Post by neb92 on Nov 11, 2007 20:39:56 GMT -5
Disclaimer: I do not own Charmed in any way, shape, or form. I merely take my perverse pleasures from screwing with the characters lives.
Author's Note: Okay, I figured that I might as well post my only finished fic here, even if it is a oneshot. Hope you guys enjoy! Then again, M. did say that she was the only person who enjoyed Charmed on the forum... Dang it. Oh well. I'll post this for my own personal satisfaction then.
Rating: T
I hate him. I hate him so much it makes my heart ache. So why can’t I stop loving my older brother? Why can’t I stop remembering the Wyatt who comforted me when Leo was never there for me? Why can’t I stop remembering the Wyatt who always tried to make me laugh whenever I was down, or the Wyatt who refused to let anybody tease or hurt me?
He’s become a monster. He personally kills hundreds every day, simply for the pleasure he feels while killing. He has legions of demons under his control, who kill thousands more innocents under his orders. He even believes the mantra of all evil, ‘There is no good or evil, only power.’ I just don’t understand how my wonderful older brother could have turned into this, this, beast.
My name is Christopher Halliwell, and I am twenty-two years old. I have been held hostage by the person that I once would have trusted my life and soul to for two years, and have been running from him for six years. My brother was once the savior of light, the epitome of all that is good, but now? Now Wyatt is the source of all evil.
Wyatt didn’t always used to be like this. I can remember countless little moments, where he was as sweet and innocent as it is possible to be. Like the time that he found an abandoned baby bird the garden behind the manor. He pleaded with Mom for over two hours to let him take care of it until it could survive on its own.
I also remember all the times that we used to spend Sunday mornings baking cookies with Mom. She always called us her little helpers, as she mixed the dough together, scooped piles onto the cookie sheets, before putting them into the oven to cook. Well, Mom always said we helped, but all we really did was lick the spoons and mixing bowl clean, and, when the cookies were done, eat them with her, proclaiming on what a good job ‘we’ did together.
And then there were the family picnics. Everyone; cousins, aunts, uncles, friends; would get together while we ate in the Golden Gate Park, the adults chatting about their lives while us kids played tag.
I remember when Wyatt was ‘it’, he would always take his time catching us, because he didn’t want to make it seem unfair that his sensing powers always let him know where we were anyways.
There was the first time that Leo didn’t even bother with sending me an apology letter. It was my twelfth birthday, and the festivities were a little strained when none of us heard from Leo.
Wyatt helped me get through the pain of a father’s hatred, and, when his birthday came around, he kicked Leo out of the manor and threw his present away without opening it.
My fourteenth birthday came around, and once again, there was no Leo. It wasn’t really a big surprise, but it made Wyatt livid. He had made it clear to Leo that he didn’t want him to be a part of his life until he started trying to be a part of mine.
Wyatt was definitely on edge during my birthday, which somehow went by without a hitch. Life proceeded normally at the manor, or at least as normally as possible.
Two weeks after my birthday, ‘The Event’ happened. Wyatt was at a party with a friend, and I was in my room blasting my music while doing my homework. Mom was in the kitchen cooking dinner when the demon shimmered into the room.
It stabbed her before she realized it was there, and shimmered away without a word. Neither Wyatt nor I knew anything was wrong until we felt the knife stabbing its way through our backs.
We both immediately orbed to the kitchen, but we were too late. Piper Halliwell, mother of two, Charmed One, and matriarch of the Halliwell Clan was dead.
After ‘The Event’, Wyatt went on a demon hunting rampage. He orbed to the underworld for days at a time, vanquishing demon after demon, trying to find the one who had killed our mother.
While he was gone though, I was all alone. Aunt Phoebe and Aunt Paige were too wrapped up in their own family’s grief to worry about mine, and Grandpa had died two months earlier, from lung cancer.
I sank into depression, one that I couldn’t dig myself out of. When Wyatt finally came back from his longest demon hunt yet, he was outraged at the condition I was in.
I was dirty and unkempt. I hadn’t been able to keep any food that I had managed to prepare down. I had also been having unrelenting nightmares about Leo, for while Wyatt had been gone, he had come down from wherever in the hell he lived and blamed me for Piper’s death.
When I told Wyatt that no one had checked on me since he had last been here, I knew something was wrong. The Wyatt I knew and loved could never have held the rage behind those blue eyes; his face could never have held that expression. Something had changed in my brother, and I knew it was for the worse.
Aunt Phoebe died first. I’m still not sure what happened exactly, only that she was hit with an energy ball from behind as she walked into her apartment.
Uncle Coop took our cousins far away, and I haven’t seen them since. We went to another funeral, and Wyatt went through another rampage, while I sunk farther into my depression.
I didn’t eat anymore. Anything that had been delicious in the past now tasted like ashes. Wyatt left me alone for longer and longer amounts of time.
Finally, about a month after Aunt Phoebe died, Aunt Paige pulled herself together. She came and checked on me, and I know that guilt raged through her every time she saw me until she died.
I hadn’t taken a shower in over a week, and hadn’t been to school even longer. My hair hadn’t been cut for months, and my nightmares had gotten worse, so I had large, dark circles under my eyes.
Aunt Paige immediately re-located her family to the manor, because she didn’t feel that it would be fair to make me move from the last place I saw my mother alive. Wyatt had finally given up hope for finding the demon that killed Mom, and things were starting to resemble normal. Well, normal for us anyway.
Then something terrible happened. Aunt Paige had been trying to get me to tell her what happened in my nightmares. I refused to tell anybody, because I had slowly started to believe that Leo was right, and I was scared that everyone would leave me if they found out it was my fault that Mom was dead.
She finally gave up when I refused to tell her, and decided to try a sleeping potion. We were in the middle of brainstorming about what herbs we could add to it when the demon shimmered in.
Neither of our powers would work against him, and the demon just laughed. He told us the role he had played in killing two of the Charmed Ones. He was the demon who had stabbed Mom, and he was the demon who threw the energy ball at Aunt Phoebe’s head, killing her instantly. Then the demon revealed that his name was Rathuel, and that he was in line to become the next Source.
Rathuel was easily the strongest demon that I had ever faced, and I was frozen in fear, because I knew that my powers weren’t going to work on him.
Rathuel summoned an athame, and asked Aunt Paige who she wanted to die first. Laughing at her fearful expression, he decided to draw Aunt Paige’s pain out as long as he could.
Faster than is humanly possible, he twirled around and threw the athame right at my heart.
Laughing at our fearful expressions, he decided to draw Aunt Paige’s pain out as long as possible. Faster than is humanly possible, he twirled and threw the athame straight at my heart.
What happened next seemed to happen in slow motion. Aunt Paige disappeared in a flurry of orbs, while yelling for Wyatt. She then re-appeared and tackled me out of the way, just before the athame would have hit me. It hit her instead, and as she fell, I saw her spirit come out of her body, and then disappear.
Rathuel advanced on me, conjuring another athame into his hand, when Wyatt made his appearance. He swept a glance around the room, saw Aunt Paige’s body, then saw Rathuel threatening me.
“It was you?” Wyatt asked in genuine surprise. “Then why did you help me?”
Rathuel snarled and looked at him, and replied, “Of course it was me. What other demon do you know that has the power to vanquish any of the Charmed Ones?”
“You betrayed me.” Wyatt said.
“No!” the demon yelled. “I betrayed my kind by helping you! You are betraying your family to become the Source!”
I watched on, and felt a sinking feeling in my gut. The demon was lying. There was no way that Wyatt was trying to become the Source. “Wyatt.” I said quietly, and both cast their attention back at me.
“Maybe I should finish this, and then we can talk?” Rathuel asked, clearly expecting a positive answer.
Wyatt threw back his head and laughed. “Why do you think I’ll let you kill my brother?”
Now I was thoroughly in the dark. What in the hell was going on? Wyatt knew the demon that had killed Mom, Aunt Phoebe, and Aunt Paige, and was holding a completely civilized conversation with him.
Wyatt blinked his eyes, and Rathuel burst into flames, screaming with agony. Or maybe Wyatt wasn’t holding a completely civilized conversation with the demon.
My older brother turned around, instantly adopting the mask of a loving older brother who was worried about his younger sibling. But it was too late. I had seen his face as he vanquished Rathuel. He had enjoyed the demon’s pain.
Wyatt reached a hand out toward me, but I flinched away shrieking, “Don’t touch me!”
He looked at me, a mask of hurt and worry worn over his features. “Chris? Did that demon do something to you? God I’ll bring him back to life and vanquish him again if he did. Are you okay?”
“No.” I whispered. This could not be happening. Wyatt was evil. My older brother is evil.
Again he tried to reach toward me, but I flinched back again. “Please Wy?” I plead. “Please tell me it’s not true.”
Now he looked worried. “What’s not true?”
“It can’t be.” I muttered to myself. “You can’t be evil.”
Wyatt chuckled, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. His blue eyes, which had once held such warmth, were now cold. God, why hadn’t I noticed before? Why couldn’t I have seen before?
“Of course I’m not evil!” he exclaimed, and I could tell he was telling the truth. But his eyes, oh God, his eyes. He didn’t think he was evil, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t.
“No, I have to get away!” I remember screaming, as I felt his arms encircle around me, before the heat of flames surrounded us and we were in the underworld, before his demons.
Before I knew what was happening, Wyatt was chanting in an evil language and everything went dark. I don’t remember much after that. All I remember is being dazed, doing whatever Wyatt asked me to.
When I was about sixteen however, whatever spell he must have cast on me loosened its hold, and I quickly orbed away as fast as I could.
I wandered the streets for a few weeks, trying my best not to let myself fall back into the depression that had never been treated, as only I knew it was there.
One day, one of Wyatt’s minions finally caught up to me. She shimmered in front of me, and before I knew what was happening, she had thrust her fist through my chest. I couldn’t breathe, and I could feel my powers draining away.
I knew she was going to take me back to Wyatt, and I desperately didn’t want that. “Please,” I asked, “just kill me.”
Shocked, she pulled her hand out of me and asked, “What?”
“It’s my fault they’re dead.” I said, as if it made all the sense in the world. “And it’s my fault he’s evil. I don’t want to live anymore. Please just kill me.” The last few words came out as a whisper.
She must have realized how young I was, because she asked, “How old are you?”
“I don’t know!” I yelled, “He had just killed her, then I woke up and here I am! I don’t know what year it is!”
The young woman in front of me had absolutely no idea what I was talking about. “Huh?”
But I was beyond listening. I sank to my knees, and wrapped my arms around my head. Moaning, I rocked back and forth, feeling the spell Wyatt had cast on me trying to re-assert itself as master of my will. I fought it off, as the woman continued to ask me questions, and I answered as many as I could.
Finally, she told me that her name was Bianca, and that she was a phoenix. Wyatt had hired her to find me, take my powers, and to bring me back to him unharmed.
She helped me to my feet, and then we started running as far as we could. We were on the run for two and a half weeks before the resistance picked us up, and we’ve been doing everything we can to undermine Wyatt’s regime ever since. Bianca is my angel; she helped me through my depression and I’m planning on proposing to her in a week.
Lately we’ve been working on a plan to go back in time and save Wyatt, because I can remember times that he didn’t used to be evil. Once he was good, with no darkness whatsoever.
We’ve come up with a theory that we believe to be true. I remember stories about how Wyatt was kidnapped just after I was born, and how he was in the underworld for months before he was found. What if he was so traumatized by those his kidnapping, that it left a scar on him psychologically? If I could go back in time and kill whatever demon kidnapped him, I could have my brother back.
We are planning on going to the manor within a few days, to summon the Book of Shadows and read the spell to send me back. If this works, millions of innocents will never die. If this works, my family could be whole, Mom, the Aunts, Dad, none of them would be gone. If this works, I can have my brother back. And that’s something I want more than anyone could ever imagine.
I really do hate my brother. But I only hate what he’s become. I will always love the brother who saved that bird, who never let anyone tease me but him. And I will always love the brother that he could have been; savior of the light, bane of the demon’s existence. I hate my brother, but it is impossible for me to stop loving him.
Author's Note: Well, what do you think? Feel free to PM me with any comments, critiques, anything. Thanks for reading.
Author's Note: Okay, I figured that I might as well post my only finished fic here, even if it is a oneshot. Hope you guys enjoy! Then again, M. did say that she was the only person who enjoyed Charmed on the forum... Dang it. Oh well. I'll post this for my own personal satisfaction then.
Rating: T
I hate him. I hate him so much it makes my heart ache. So why can’t I stop loving my older brother? Why can’t I stop remembering the Wyatt who comforted me when Leo was never there for me? Why can’t I stop remembering the Wyatt who always tried to make me laugh whenever I was down, or the Wyatt who refused to let anybody tease or hurt me?
He’s become a monster. He personally kills hundreds every day, simply for the pleasure he feels while killing. He has legions of demons under his control, who kill thousands more innocents under his orders. He even believes the mantra of all evil, ‘There is no good or evil, only power.’ I just don’t understand how my wonderful older brother could have turned into this, this, beast.
My name is Christopher Halliwell, and I am twenty-two years old. I have been held hostage by the person that I once would have trusted my life and soul to for two years, and have been running from him for six years. My brother was once the savior of light, the epitome of all that is good, but now? Now Wyatt is the source of all evil.
Wyatt didn’t always used to be like this. I can remember countless little moments, where he was as sweet and innocent as it is possible to be. Like the time that he found an abandoned baby bird the garden behind the manor. He pleaded with Mom for over two hours to let him take care of it until it could survive on its own.
I also remember all the times that we used to spend Sunday mornings baking cookies with Mom. She always called us her little helpers, as she mixed the dough together, scooped piles onto the cookie sheets, before putting them into the oven to cook. Well, Mom always said we helped, but all we really did was lick the spoons and mixing bowl clean, and, when the cookies were done, eat them with her, proclaiming on what a good job ‘we’ did together.
And then there were the family picnics. Everyone; cousins, aunts, uncles, friends; would get together while we ate in the Golden Gate Park, the adults chatting about their lives while us kids played tag.
I remember when Wyatt was ‘it’, he would always take his time catching us, because he didn’t want to make it seem unfair that his sensing powers always let him know where we were anyways.
There was the first time that Leo didn’t even bother with sending me an apology letter. It was my twelfth birthday, and the festivities were a little strained when none of us heard from Leo.
Wyatt helped me get through the pain of a father’s hatred, and, when his birthday came around, he kicked Leo out of the manor and threw his present away without opening it.
My fourteenth birthday came around, and once again, there was no Leo. It wasn’t really a big surprise, but it made Wyatt livid. He had made it clear to Leo that he didn’t want him to be a part of his life until he started trying to be a part of mine.
Wyatt was definitely on edge during my birthday, which somehow went by without a hitch. Life proceeded normally at the manor, or at least as normally as possible.
Two weeks after my birthday, ‘The Event’ happened. Wyatt was at a party with a friend, and I was in my room blasting my music while doing my homework. Mom was in the kitchen cooking dinner when the demon shimmered into the room.
It stabbed her before she realized it was there, and shimmered away without a word. Neither Wyatt nor I knew anything was wrong until we felt the knife stabbing its way through our backs.
We both immediately orbed to the kitchen, but we were too late. Piper Halliwell, mother of two, Charmed One, and matriarch of the Halliwell Clan was dead.
After ‘The Event’, Wyatt went on a demon hunting rampage. He orbed to the underworld for days at a time, vanquishing demon after demon, trying to find the one who had killed our mother.
While he was gone though, I was all alone. Aunt Phoebe and Aunt Paige were too wrapped up in their own family’s grief to worry about mine, and Grandpa had died two months earlier, from lung cancer.
I sank into depression, one that I couldn’t dig myself out of. When Wyatt finally came back from his longest demon hunt yet, he was outraged at the condition I was in.
I was dirty and unkempt. I hadn’t been able to keep any food that I had managed to prepare down. I had also been having unrelenting nightmares about Leo, for while Wyatt had been gone, he had come down from wherever in the hell he lived and blamed me for Piper’s death.
When I told Wyatt that no one had checked on me since he had last been here, I knew something was wrong. The Wyatt I knew and loved could never have held the rage behind those blue eyes; his face could never have held that expression. Something had changed in my brother, and I knew it was for the worse.
Aunt Phoebe died first. I’m still not sure what happened exactly, only that she was hit with an energy ball from behind as she walked into her apartment.
Uncle Coop took our cousins far away, and I haven’t seen them since. We went to another funeral, and Wyatt went through another rampage, while I sunk farther into my depression.
I didn’t eat anymore. Anything that had been delicious in the past now tasted like ashes. Wyatt left me alone for longer and longer amounts of time.
Finally, about a month after Aunt Phoebe died, Aunt Paige pulled herself together. She came and checked on me, and I know that guilt raged through her every time she saw me until she died.
I hadn’t taken a shower in over a week, and hadn’t been to school even longer. My hair hadn’t been cut for months, and my nightmares had gotten worse, so I had large, dark circles under my eyes.
Aunt Paige immediately re-located her family to the manor, because she didn’t feel that it would be fair to make me move from the last place I saw my mother alive. Wyatt had finally given up hope for finding the demon that killed Mom, and things were starting to resemble normal. Well, normal for us anyway.
Then something terrible happened. Aunt Paige had been trying to get me to tell her what happened in my nightmares. I refused to tell anybody, because I had slowly started to believe that Leo was right, and I was scared that everyone would leave me if they found out it was my fault that Mom was dead.
She finally gave up when I refused to tell her, and decided to try a sleeping potion. We were in the middle of brainstorming about what herbs we could add to it when the demon shimmered in.
Neither of our powers would work against him, and the demon just laughed. He told us the role he had played in killing two of the Charmed Ones. He was the demon who had stabbed Mom, and he was the demon who threw the energy ball at Aunt Phoebe’s head, killing her instantly. Then the demon revealed that his name was Rathuel, and that he was in line to become the next Source.
Rathuel was easily the strongest demon that I had ever faced, and I was frozen in fear, because I knew that my powers weren’t going to work on him.
Rathuel summoned an athame, and asked Aunt Paige who she wanted to die first. Laughing at her fearful expression, he decided to draw Aunt Paige’s pain out as long as he could.
Faster than is humanly possible, he twirled around and threw the athame right at my heart.
Laughing at our fearful expressions, he decided to draw Aunt Paige’s pain out as long as possible. Faster than is humanly possible, he twirled and threw the athame straight at my heart.
What happened next seemed to happen in slow motion. Aunt Paige disappeared in a flurry of orbs, while yelling for Wyatt. She then re-appeared and tackled me out of the way, just before the athame would have hit me. It hit her instead, and as she fell, I saw her spirit come out of her body, and then disappear.
Rathuel advanced on me, conjuring another athame into his hand, when Wyatt made his appearance. He swept a glance around the room, saw Aunt Paige’s body, then saw Rathuel threatening me.
“It was you?” Wyatt asked in genuine surprise. “Then why did you help me?”
Rathuel snarled and looked at him, and replied, “Of course it was me. What other demon do you know that has the power to vanquish any of the Charmed Ones?”
“You betrayed me.” Wyatt said.
“No!” the demon yelled. “I betrayed my kind by helping you! You are betraying your family to become the Source!”
I watched on, and felt a sinking feeling in my gut. The demon was lying. There was no way that Wyatt was trying to become the Source. “Wyatt.” I said quietly, and both cast their attention back at me.
“Maybe I should finish this, and then we can talk?” Rathuel asked, clearly expecting a positive answer.
Wyatt threw back his head and laughed. “Why do you think I’ll let you kill my brother?”
Now I was thoroughly in the dark. What in the hell was going on? Wyatt knew the demon that had killed Mom, Aunt Phoebe, and Aunt Paige, and was holding a completely civilized conversation with him.
Wyatt blinked his eyes, and Rathuel burst into flames, screaming with agony. Or maybe Wyatt wasn’t holding a completely civilized conversation with the demon.
My older brother turned around, instantly adopting the mask of a loving older brother who was worried about his younger sibling. But it was too late. I had seen his face as he vanquished Rathuel. He had enjoyed the demon’s pain.
Wyatt reached a hand out toward me, but I flinched away shrieking, “Don’t touch me!”
He looked at me, a mask of hurt and worry worn over his features. “Chris? Did that demon do something to you? God I’ll bring him back to life and vanquish him again if he did. Are you okay?”
“No.” I whispered. This could not be happening. Wyatt was evil. My older brother is evil.
Again he tried to reach toward me, but I flinched back again. “Please Wy?” I plead. “Please tell me it’s not true.”
Now he looked worried. “What’s not true?”
“It can’t be.” I muttered to myself. “You can’t be evil.”
Wyatt chuckled, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. His blue eyes, which had once held such warmth, were now cold. God, why hadn’t I noticed before? Why couldn’t I have seen before?
“Of course I’m not evil!” he exclaimed, and I could tell he was telling the truth. But his eyes, oh God, his eyes. He didn’t think he was evil, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t.
“No, I have to get away!” I remember screaming, as I felt his arms encircle around me, before the heat of flames surrounded us and we were in the underworld, before his demons.
Before I knew what was happening, Wyatt was chanting in an evil language and everything went dark. I don’t remember much after that. All I remember is being dazed, doing whatever Wyatt asked me to.
When I was about sixteen however, whatever spell he must have cast on me loosened its hold, and I quickly orbed away as fast as I could.
I wandered the streets for a few weeks, trying my best not to let myself fall back into the depression that had never been treated, as only I knew it was there.
One day, one of Wyatt’s minions finally caught up to me. She shimmered in front of me, and before I knew what was happening, she had thrust her fist through my chest. I couldn’t breathe, and I could feel my powers draining away.
I knew she was going to take me back to Wyatt, and I desperately didn’t want that. “Please,” I asked, “just kill me.”
Shocked, she pulled her hand out of me and asked, “What?”
“It’s my fault they’re dead.” I said, as if it made all the sense in the world. “And it’s my fault he’s evil. I don’t want to live anymore. Please just kill me.” The last few words came out as a whisper.
She must have realized how young I was, because she asked, “How old are you?”
“I don’t know!” I yelled, “He had just killed her, then I woke up and here I am! I don’t know what year it is!”
The young woman in front of me had absolutely no idea what I was talking about. “Huh?”
But I was beyond listening. I sank to my knees, and wrapped my arms around my head. Moaning, I rocked back and forth, feeling the spell Wyatt had cast on me trying to re-assert itself as master of my will. I fought it off, as the woman continued to ask me questions, and I answered as many as I could.
Finally, she told me that her name was Bianca, and that she was a phoenix. Wyatt had hired her to find me, take my powers, and to bring me back to him unharmed.
She helped me to my feet, and then we started running as far as we could. We were on the run for two and a half weeks before the resistance picked us up, and we’ve been doing everything we can to undermine Wyatt’s regime ever since. Bianca is my angel; she helped me through my depression and I’m planning on proposing to her in a week.
Lately we’ve been working on a plan to go back in time and save Wyatt, because I can remember times that he didn’t used to be evil. Once he was good, with no darkness whatsoever.
We’ve come up with a theory that we believe to be true. I remember stories about how Wyatt was kidnapped just after I was born, and how he was in the underworld for months before he was found. What if he was so traumatized by those his kidnapping, that it left a scar on him psychologically? If I could go back in time and kill whatever demon kidnapped him, I could have my brother back.
We are planning on going to the manor within a few days, to summon the Book of Shadows and read the spell to send me back. If this works, millions of innocents will never die. If this works, my family could be whole, Mom, the Aunts, Dad, none of them would be gone. If this works, I can have my brother back. And that’s something I want more than anyone could ever imagine.
I really do hate my brother. But I only hate what he’s become. I will always love the brother who saved that bird, who never let anyone tease me but him. And I will always love the brother that he could have been; savior of the light, bane of the demon’s existence. I hate my brother, but it is impossible for me to stop loving him.
Author's Note: Well, what do you think? Feel free to PM me with any comments, critiques, anything. Thanks for reading.
I adore the show.
(months ago of course XD) anyway, I've got my own writing to get back to, etc.
