This little one shot was sprung from an idea I got while listening to the song "Save Me". It's set in the unchanged future, and song lyrics will be bold and italicized. I think the summary basically . . . well, sums it up. Enjoy, and reviews would be much appreciated.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Charmed or the song "Save Me" by Unwritten Law.
"I know what you've been doing, Christopher," Wyatt Halliwell said calmly, eyeing his younger brother coldly.
"And what's that, Wyatt?" Chris shot back sharply, his expression defiant, ignoring the throbbing pain in his right cheek.
Wyatt's eyes narrowed, the blue igniting with fire. "Don't be a smart ass."
Had a bad day, don't talk to me
Gonna ride this out
My little black heart, breaks apart
With your big mouth
Chris stared down at his sneakers, intensely engrossed in its scuff marks. He dreaded this day, though he knew it was inevitable. It looks like his days as a mole was over.
"Are you going to stare at your shoes all day?" Wyatt demanded, a shred of his perfectly calm demeanor waning as irritation flashed in his face.
Looking straight into his brother's eyes, Chris bore his vivid green eyes into Wyatt's, trying to express all the emotions he felt in that one moment. Then, failing to do that, he resumed staring at his feet.
It was hard, deciding to rebel against his own brother, betray him, sneak behind his back. But, it was for the greater good. Wyatt was doing horrible things, and Chris knew that the killing could not continue.
…And you hate me
"Do you really despise me that much, Chris?"
Chris's head snapped up in surprise at the hurt in his brother's voice. He met eyes with Wyatt, and was shocked to see pain in them.
He saw humanity in Wyatt's eyes.
This was proof of something that Chris had always known; Wyatt could still be saved.
"Was I really that horrible of a brother that you decided to form a freaking resistance against me?" Wyatt yelled at Chris, his voice cracking in the end.
Chris suddenly felt ashamed of himself, and looked back down at his feet. Why did his brother still make him feel this way, knowing that he had killed so many people in cold blood? How could Chris distinguish between the man and the monster?
Simply put, Chris had separated the two, hoping that by the destroying the monster, he would have his brother back, and the world wouldn't have to be ruled under a cruel dictator.
"You weren't . . ." Chris said softly.
"What was that?" Wyatt snapped coldly, a reminiscent of the monster blazing in his eyes.
Chris looked up, finding his voice, strangely, as he saw Wyatt disappearing and the dictator surfacing. "You weren't a bad brother."
"Then why the resistance?"
"Isn't it obvious? Because, you've done heinous things that you seem to be blind to!" Chris erupted, disbelieving that he could be so dense.
Wyatt laughed. "Heinous? The Halliwell line never got what they deserved, only crap about our destiny. And what has that ever given us? We've had power at our disposal, and what was our reward? Death and fear throughout our lives."
"That doesn't make things right!" Chris argued. "God, Wyatt, can't you see that I'm trying to save you!"
His brother stared at him strangely, a sadness creeping into his eyes.
You can't save me
You can't change me
Well I'm waiting for my wakeup call
And everything, everything's my fault
"You can't save me, Chris," Wyatt answered softly. "Don't make me kill you for chasing something not worth chasing."
Chris stared defiantly at his brother. "I can. I know it. C'mon, Wyatt, what do you think Mom would say about her son doing a Cole and going full out evil?"
The glare Wyatt sent him right then was enough to send a chill down Chris's spine.
"Mom's dead," he informed Chris cruelly, "I'm your only family, your brother, and you will listen to me. Disband the resistance, and I'll let them all go without a scratch."
"And what makes us so different?" Chris retorted, "What difference does it make? All those other people are dead, Wyatt, dead because of you! People are suffering, can't you see that?"
The indifference in Wyatt's eyes spoke volumes. "Sometimes, sacrifices must be made for the greater good."
"Yeah?" Chris said softly as sorrow washed over him, "Was Mom a sacrifice too?"
You can't save me
You can't blame me
Well I'm waiting here to take a fall
And everything, everything's my fault
"Mom . . . was a casualty of war," Wyatt responded. "She was caught in the balance of good and evil, and died for it."
"No, Wyatt," Chris shook his head vigorously. He had been listening to Wyatt's lies all his life, and had only recently discovered the truth behind Piper Halliwell's death. "You killed her. You murdered our mother . . ."
Wyatt's voice rose above Chris's, practically roaring, "You cannot possibly blame me for that! You know I felt her death just as mujch as the rest of you!"
"I know. But you never said that you were the one who put her there,"
"Everything's my fault, huh?" Wyatt mused out loud.
"Everything's my fault," Piper moaned, her face in her hands, "I knew I should have waited until you were older to let Leo take you Up There and start training with Excalibur . . ."
Sixteen year old Wyatt didn't bother to mask his anger. "You can't take it away from me, Mom! It belongs to me!"
Piper's gaze was stern. "Right. But as the 'Lady of the Lake' I have to give it to you when you're ready. And apparently, from what I've seen today, you're not ready."
"But I didn't mean to harm that man! Why should it matter anyway? He was going to hurt that girl! Whatever he had coming for him, he deserved it."
Sighing sadly, Piper put a hand on Wyatt's shoulder, only for him to recoil from her touch with a furious expression.
"Wyatt," Piper said quietly, "You didn't just harm the man . . . you killed him."
The boy shifted even further away from his mother, his eyes widening in shock. A lump formed in his throat, any attempts of speaking became choked. "It . . . you're lying."
"No, I'm not," His mother's tone assumed a harder edge, emphasizing her seriousness, disappointment, and fear. Her little boy couldn't be a killer. He wasn't. Wyatt was going to be a great source of good, saving even more innocents in his lifetime than the Charmed Ones ever had.
Wyatt was beginning to read people very well, an empath without the empathic power.
At that's what gave him the edge. He felt . . . well, he wasn't sure what he felt. But it he definitely wasn't crying over the death of that man. He deserved what was coming to him.
"Wyatt, we may be witches, and you may be a witch-whitelighter, but that doesn't make us any more special than everyone else. This power that our destiny bestows on us doesn't give us the license to kill. It's wrong, no matter who does it. A man's life is taken away because of you. I know you thought you were saving an innocent, but you're going to have to take the punishment."
He opened his mouth to protest, resentment building up inside of him. Wyatt couldn't believe it. His mom was giving him the third degree. It's not like he meant to kill him!
"Wyatt, listen to me!" Piper barked forcefully, forcing Wyatt to look at her in the eye, "You're lucky this is all you get. What if the one you killed was someone you knew? Loved? What if it was one of your family? I lost Prue, Wyatt, because of this destiny. I do not want to have to lose my son because of a stupid decision!"
Wyatt flinched. Okay, now his mom was stretching this a little far.
"Mom, I'd never kill one of our family!" Wyatt exclaimed indignity, "I'm not evil!"
Piper's expression softened somewhat. "I know. But I'm not going to risk it again. Excalibur's going back in the stone until I decide you're ready to use it properly, for Good."
Something inside Wyatt snapped in that moment. As he stared at Excalibur, admired the way the metal gleamed in the sunlight filtered through the attic's creaky windows, he knew that he couldn't bear it being locked away in storage like a forgotten art project he'd done when he was five.
"It's mine." He said harshly, spit flying out of his mouth.
"Excuse me? Don't take that tone with me, Wyatt Matthew Halliwell." This was Piper's way of warning. She never called Wyatt by his full name unless he was really toeing the line.
But Wyatt didn't stop. Rage enveloped him, resentment for the destiny he was born into, one that would most likely result in their early deaths, causing him to fling out his arm in a sudden emotional outburst, jerking his mom to the side into a nearby wall and sliding down harshly, causing her to scream in agony.
In his rage, Wyatt's eyesight suddenly became blurred, a headache causing the world to spin around him. Sitting down suddenly onto the couch, he gripped his blonde curls until his vision cleared.
As he looked up at the door, he saw Chris. His little brother was staring in horror at the scene in front of him, his eyes darting back and forth in disbelief at Wyatt and Piper.
"M-Mom?" Chris squeaked, his voice faltering.
Wyatt, still reeling slightly from the sudden migraine, managed to look at his Mom. As he took in the sight, he could feel bile rising up in his throat.
Oh God . . .
Piper Halliwell lay there, skewered by Excalibur, which had been tipped upward. The blade had thrust through her chest as she fell, killing her, within seconds or instantly, Wyatt didn't know.
His chest felt compressed. Wyatt couldn't breathe; all he could do was stare at the blood blossoming from her chest, staining the pure white shirt she had been wearing.
Then he realized. Chris.
"MOM!" Chris yelled, breaking from his stunned trance, throwing himself upon his mother.
Tears glistened in Chris's eyes, anguish rippling through every part of his body. Wyatt could see him shaking fiercely; he looked sick, as if he was about to throw up. Wyatt felt that way too.
"Wyatt, what are you waiting for? Heal her!" Chris shrieked.
"I –I can't." Wyatt whispered, wanting to embrace his brother, tell him it was all okay. But his body wouldn't obey him.
Wyatt flinched at the disgust and disbelief in his brother's eyes.
"DAD! DAD! Dad . . . please come!" Chris sobbed, no longer holding the tears, allowing them to flow down.
Wyatt could taste his own salty tears. Chris was in pain. He knew that his little brother would almost never call on his father.
Leo orbed in, worry evident on his face. "Chris, what's wrong? I felt something–" He stopped. That's when he noticed his wife's dead eyes staring up at him blankly, devoid of life.
"No . . . Piper!" He flung himself at his wife, immediately working his magic, a strong golden glow emitting from his fingertips. Nothing happened. Piper's wounds did not heal, and Chris's sobbing did not fade.
Taking Chris's shoulders roughly, Leo shook him. "What happened, Chris? What happened!"
Barely able to string words together, Chris managed, "I . . . I don't know . . . Wyatt."
"Demon attack," Wyatt heard himself lying. His brain was still trying to catch up with the rest of his body.
Chris looked up sharply at this big brother, who didn't raise his eyes to meet Chris's.
"I–" Leo stared at Piper's body, still looking shell shocked, "I'd better tell your aunts . . . oh god . . . I'll be right back," he muttered before orbing out.
Chris glared at Wyatt. "Why are you lying? That's not what happened and you know it! You killed Mom, you bastard!"
Wyatt flinched at those words. "Please, Chris, don't tell Dad or Aunt Phoebe and Paige." He pleaded with his brother softly.
Something in Chris's eyes flared. The respect and awe Chris always had for his big brother was gone now. There was nothing left but disgust, contempt, and betrayal.
He didn't want to, but Wyatt found himself succumbing to Chris's attitude towards him. A guilty knot in his stomach made the pain of accidentally murdering his own mother increase tenfold. He couldn't bear to see Chris look at him like that.
"I'm sorry," he whispered to his brother, gripping his shoulder hard.
"Get away from me!" Chris hissed and tried to squirm away from Wyatt, who held fast. He raised a hand over his brother's face and a golden light blindsided Chris, who tried to close his eyes but found them forced open.
After Wyatt released him, Chris fell backwards to the floor, staring up at Wyatt's mournful, regretful face.
"W-What happened?" Chris asked, confused and feeling slightly dazed.
"There was a demon attack. He killed Mom," Wyatt lied, forcing the guilt deep inside of him.
"You tricked me. You lied to me."
Wyatt looked up regretfully, his face hardened from the duty of his rule. "It was necessary."
"How was it necessary? Mom was right, you don't deserve that thing." Chris spat at the last word, inclining his head at Excalibur.
Wyatt was thoroughly disappointed in Chris. He really thought his little brother was adjusting to the new world. Apparently Chris thought him inhuman, but truthfully, it hurt him painfully to see what lengths he went to stop Wyatt from making the world right.
Went to the doctor, and I asked her
How to make this stop (Whoa)
Got medication, a new addiction
–Thanks a lot
"It's all about power, Chris. I only harnessed it for the Greater Good." Wyatt tried desperately to justify himself. He really hoped none of his minor demons were eavesdropping. After all, he'd be forced to kill them off, for no one can see the weakness he held for family. Otherwise, they'd go after Chris.
But then, Wyatt may just be forced to get rid of the problem himself.
He shook his head mentally, brushing that thought out of his head, surprised at himself. He'd never hurt Chris.
Would he?
Staring at the cold demeanor of the boy in front of him, Wyatt saw something else. Chris would stop at nothing to stop his brother. He loved Chris, but he couldn't allow him to ruin everything he's built.
Chris observed his brother, almost pityingly, knowing the very thing Wyatt was praising was what had helped corrupt him.
"Power's an addiction, Wyatt, if not used correctly." Chris said softly.
I went to Heaven, but couldn't get in
For what I've done
I said please take me, they said you're crazy
You had too much fun
"Then I shouldn't be worried, should I?" Wyatt responded cockily.
Chris looked up at Wyatt, his eyes haunted in the memory of all the incidents he had witnessed with his own eyes, incidents he'd been willingly blind to, refusing to believe that his brother would hurt anyone else.
Taking in a deep breath, Chris said softly, "I've seen you kill people, Wyatt, and you freaking enjoy it. I never noticed it before, but I see it now, every time they replay themselves in my nightmares."
"God Chris, why can't you understand that it's not about that? I don't enjoy doing it; it's just business! What's it to you if I have to dispose of a few loose ends to make things better for everyone else?"
"Because it's not right. Killing your mother isn't right."
Wyatt looked away, biting his lip guiltily. "It wasn't on purpose."
"But you did it because she was taking power away from you."
"Shut up!" Wyatt flung his arm out, sending Chris flying backwards into the same wall he had thrown his mother in many years ago.
Picking himself up slowly, Chris locked eyes with Wyatt, who recoiled from the pain in Chris's bright green eyes.
"I love you, Wy, and I will save you," Chris promised, defiance mixed with affection in his eyes.
Wyatt believed him, but knew, regretfully, that he can't allow this to happen. Power was too important to him; the balance must be retained.
"I will save you," Chris repeated, now whispering, as if trying to convince himself.
Smiling sadly, Wyatt answered,
"You can't save me."
With one last look at his brother, Chris orbed out. Wyatt let him go. Hopefully, he'll be able to bring down Chris's resistance group, with Chris alive and intact, and bring him around to see his side. After all, if Chris was really that willing to give up everything to save Wyatt, shouldn't he return the favor?
"You can't save me, Chris," Wyatt whispered again to the glow of floating blue orbs before orbing out himself, ready to take on a new day of order and power.
You can't save me
You can't change me
Everything's my fault