Post by CharmedLitWitch on Aug 13, 2006 22:07:19 GMT -5
Edge Of Evil
By Charmed LitWitch
Prologue
The year is 2022. The future that Chris saved is now threatened by an infection that has woven its way into his being. The usually peaceful white-lighter witch, has not been acting like himself at all lately. Having no memory of saving Wyatt from a future of evil, Chris has just welcomed the birth of his first child; a girl, into the Halliwell household.
Bianca, his wife has started to notice little changes in her beloved. At first the subtle differences are so small that they are quickly overlooked, but as each day passes Chris finds himself perched precariously close to the edge of evil. Fearful for her baby and herself, Bianca turns to the only person who is close enough to the situation to possibly help; Chris’s brother Wyatt.
Chapter One
Filled with a sense of foreboding and a little nervousness, Bianca walked liked a prisoner on death row toward the looming mahogany door. The sight of the large Victorian house always made her nervous. She mentally shook off the butterflies in her stomach and took a deep steadying breath.
The sunlight glinted brilliantly off the familiar stain glass windows; the sight of which tugged little strings on her heart and memories. She could almost smell the cologne Chris doused himself in, the first time he took her on a ‘real’ date, his aunt Phoebe’s laughter and quick hugs for Bianca, the misty fog of a spell gone wrong; all memories tied to this house.
Juggling her newborn in one arm, she slowly reached her hand out toward the knob. The door opened silently before her touch showing off the gleaming hardwood foyer and mirrored coat rack. The grin was second nature along with the slight roll of her eyes; of course Wyatt would know she was there.
Chuckling to herself as she crossed the threshold, Bianca called out for her brother in law, stowing the baby stroller and various other paraphernalia off to the side. Wyatt rounded the corner of the kitchen wiping his hands on a dish towel that was looped in his jeans.
“Heeeey! There’s my beautiful niece. Come to your favorite Uncle.”
Bianca smiled and handed Athena over to Wyatt. With newly experienced hands he confidently held the little pink bundle in the cradle of his arm. Had anyone walked by and seen him, they would have sworn he was holding a football tucked close to his body.
“What brings you by Binks?” Wyatt nonchalantly waved his finger and the door closed behind Bianca.
Startled, she pivoted quickly toward the sound, her hand instinctively generating an energy ball; her body taut and ready to strike or defend.
“Ooh! I absolutely hate it when you do that!” She breathed a sigh of relief and laughed nervously at her skittishness as Wyatt moved in front of her.
He chuckled as he flicked the same finger he waved to close the door, lovingly over the pert little nose in his arms.
“I know,” he said as he placed Athena in the small wicker bassinet that had floated through the opposite door of the kitchen when they entered.
He straightened the old blue blanket with the family insignia. Bianca smiled and wondered for the umpteenth time if a charm had been placed on that ancient family heirloom.
‘How had it survived each generation? Didn’t Piper once tell her that their Grams had told them it had been tucked around each newborn generation of the Warren line since the beginning?’ She shook herself out of her reverie when she realized Wyatt had spoken.
“That’s why I do it Binks.” Wyatt chucked Bianca under the chin as he turned and began stirring his concoction.
“That’s why you do what?” Bianca turned from staring at her daughter. “Oh yeah, my nickname.”
“Yeah Binks, your nickname.” Wyatt studied her closely.
“Why do you insist on calling me that?” Her heart wasn’t in their normal bantering. Bianca seated herself on one of the stools positioned in front of the cooking island.
Studiously observing Bianca, Wyatt hesitated for a fraction of a second before answering. Bianca could feel the slight probing at the edges of her mind, but it withdrew before she could complain.
“I call you that because I have always called you that brat. No matter how many times you bitch about it, I’m always going to call you by your real name, . . . Binks.” Bianca’s face turned a bright shade of crimson.
“Wyatt Mathew Halliwell, you know damn well that ‘Binks’ is NOT my real name.” Bianca pouted prettily in the age-old game they played each time they greeted each other, only Bianca's heart just wasn't in it this time.
“Come on Binks, you know I love ya. Lighten up.” Wyatt telekinetically moved a small vial of oregano from the cabinet behind him. The bottle opened itself and tapped out two small dashes.
Wyatt hesitate while pouring as if listening to something or someone in his head.
“Ice Tea it is then.” The tea appeared cold and refreshing right in front of Bianca.
She rolled her eyes again and lifted the drink for a sample. She nodded that it wasn’t bad as Wyatt smirked.
“So, what brings you by my way today? Could you smell my heart breaking cooking from all the way across town?”
“Keep dreaming.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “No, I couldn’t smell what you were making.” She bristled slightly. Like the older brother he was, he could always get on her last nerve.
“I was only like that while I was pregnant.” She said defensively.
“I’m worried about Chris.”
“Why? He forget to take out the trash or something?”
“Yeah smart ass, I decided to drag myself and my newborn baby across town to put up with your delightful quips about my husband.” She rolled her eyes again and reached for a bread stick.
“Besides Chris never forgets to take the trash out, he’s an excellent husband. It’s just . . .” Bianca’s eyes welled up with tears.
“He just hasn’t been acting himself lately. He refuses to have anything to do with Athena or me. He doesn’t talk at all except for the occasional curses I hear him saying to himself. I think he might be seeing someone else.” She wiped a stray tear angrily away. “I’ll kill him if he is.”
"Hang on. Don’t get your demon in an uproar. You’re telling me that he who has always been head over heels for you and now this baby, is possibly seeing someone else? No way, I don’t buy it. There has to be another explanation.”
Wyatt stood still, closing his eyes in concentration. Bianca knew he was empathically reaching out for Chris. She didn’t say a word. He had always done this for as long as she had known the Halliwells.
“Ok, he’s physically fine.” The tension that had built suddenly in Wyatt’s stomach dissipated. Concern for his little brother was always a serious matter. Their father had instilled in him how important it was to always protect Chris.
“So what do you really think is wrong with him?”
“I’m not sure. Like I said, it’s just been little things.”
“I wouldn’t consider his neglect of Athena as a ‘little thing’ Binks.”
Wyatt lifted the lid on the copper pot between them on the island. Bianca unconsciously closed her eyes as she inhaled the wonderful scents.
“You know he loves that little girl. She’s the best thing to come out of this family since . . . “ Wyatt turned away at the terrible memory.
Bianca winced inwardly knowing how hard it was for Wyatt to think back on that terrible time. She stood rounded the island, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t go there. Stay here with Athena and me. We’ll figure out what’s wrong with my husband.”
She laid her hand briefly on his cheek before moving back to her seat.
Wyatt shook the memories off and straightened himself. This was not the time to dwell on the past. “Ok, when did you first notice a difference?”
Bianca thought back and then told Wyatt everything she could think of regarding Chris’s behavior.
“Maybe it’s just the realization that he’s a father now. It sounds to me like he’s just having difficulty adjusting to having the baby around. Maybe something triggered it. Is he having the nightmares still?” Bianca shook her head.
“Not that I know of. If he is, he's not waking me up like he used to.” She sighed. “Maybe you’re right.”
She took a sip of tea. “Maybe it’s all in my head.”
“Let’s call him at work and see if he can spare a few minutes to come over for dinner. I’ll keep an eye on him and see if I notice anything strange. Ok?”
“Sounds good.” Bianca slyly eyed the steaming pots. “Sooooo, . . . what are we having anyway?”
By Charmed LitWitch
Prologue
The year is 2022. The future that Chris saved is now threatened by an infection that has woven its way into his being. The usually peaceful white-lighter witch, has not been acting like himself at all lately. Having no memory of saving Wyatt from a future of evil, Chris has just welcomed the birth of his first child; a girl, into the Halliwell household.
Bianca, his wife has started to notice little changes in her beloved. At first the subtle differences are so small that they are quickly overlooked, but as each day passes Chris finds himself perched precariously close to the edge of evil. Fearful for her baby and herself, Bianca turns to the only person who is close enough to the situation to possibly help; Chris’s brother Wyatt.
Chapter One
Filled with a sense of foreboding and a little nervousness, Bianca walked liked a prisoner on death row toward the looming mahogany door. The sight of the large Victorian house always made her nervous. She mentally shook off the butterflies in her stomach and took a deep steadying breath.
The sunlight glinted brilliantly off the familiar stain glass windows; the sight of which tugged little strings on her heart and memories. She could almost smell the cologne Chris doused himself in, the first time he took her on a ‘real’ date, his aunt Phoebe’s laughter and quick hugs for Bianca, the misty fog of a spell gone wrong; all memories tied to this house.
Juggling her newborn in one arm, she slowly reached her hand out toward the knob. The door opened silently before her touch showing off the gleaming hardwood foyer and mirrored coat rack. The grin was second nature along with the slight roll of her eyes; of course Wyatt would know she was there.
Chuckling to herself as she crossed the threshold, Bianca called out for her brother in law, stowing the baby stroller and various other paraphernalia off to the side. Wyatt rounded the corner of the kitchen wiping his hands on a dish towel that was looped in his jeans.
“Heeeey! There’s my beautiful niece. Come to your favorite Uncle.”
Bianca smiled and handed Athena over to Wyatt. With newly experienced hands he confidently held the little pink bundle in the cradle of his arm. Had anyone walked by and seen him, they would have sworn he was holding a football tucked close to his body.
“What brings you by Binks?” Wyatt nonchalantly waved his finger and the door closed behind Bianca.
Startled, she pivoted quickly toward the sound, her hand instinctively generating an energy ball; her body taut and ready to strike or defend.
“Ooh! I absolutely hate it when you do that!” She breathed a sigh of relief and laughed nervously at her skittishness as Wyatt moved in front of her.
He chuckled as he flicked the same finger he waved to close the door, lovingly over the pert little nose in his arms.
“I know,” he said as he placed Athena in the small wicker bassinet that had floated through the opposite door of the kitchen when they entered.
He straightened the old blue blanket with the family insignia. Bianca smiled and wondered for the umpteenth time if a charm had been placed on that ancient family heirloom.
‘How had it survived each generation? Didn’t Piper once tell her that their Grams had told them it had been tucked around each newborn generation of the Warren line since the beginning?’ She shook herself out of her reverie when she realized Wyatt had spoken.
“That’s why I do it Binks.” Wyatt chucked Bianca under the chin as he turned and began stirring his concoction.
“That’s why you do what?” Bianca turned from staring at her daughter. “Oh yeah, my nickname.”
“Yeah Binks, your nickname.” Wyatt studied her closely.
“Why do you insist on calling me that?” Her heart wasn’t in their normal bantering. Bianca seated herself on one of the stools positioned in front of the cooking island.
Studiously observing Bianca, Wyatt hesitated for a fraction of a second before answering. Bianca could feel the slight probing at the edges of her mind, but it withdrew before she could complain.
“I call you that because I have always called you that brat. No matter how many times you bitch about it, I’m always going to call you by your real name, . . . Binks.” Bianca’s face turned a bright shade of crimson.
“Wyatt Mathew Halliwell, you know damn well that ‘Binks’ is NOT my real name.” Bianca pouted prettily in the age-old game they played each time they greeted each other, only Bianca's heart just wasn't in it this time.
“Come on Binks, you know I love ya. Lighten up.” Wyatt telekinetically moved a small vial of oregano from the cabinet behind him. The bottle opened itself and tapped out two small dashes.
Wyatt hesitate while pouring as if listening to something or someone in his head.
“Ice Tea it is then.” The tea appeared cold and refreshing right in front of Bianca.
She rolled her eyes again and lifted the drink for a sample. She nodded that it wasn’t bad as Wyatt smirked.
“So, what brings you by my way today? Could you smell my heart breaking cooking from all the way across town?”
“Keep dreaming.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “No, I couldn’t smell what you were making.” She bristled slightly. Like the older brother he was, he could always get on her last nerve.
“I was only like that while I was pregnant.” She said defensively.
“I’m worried about Chris.”
“Why? He forget to take out the trash or something?”
“Yeah smart ass, I decided to drag myself and my newborn baby across town to put up with your delightful quips about my husband.” She rolled her eyes again and reached for a bread stick.
“Besides Chris never forgets to take the trash out, he’s an excellent husband. It’s just . . .” Bianca’s eyes welled up with tears.
“He just hasn’t been acting himself lately. He refuses to have anything to do with Athena or me. He doesn’t talk at all except for the occasional curses I hear him saying to himself. I think he might be seeing someone else.” She wiped a stray tear angrily away. “I’ll kill him if he is.”
"Hang on. Don’t get your demon in an uproar. You’re telling me that he who has always been head over heels for you and now this baby, is possibly seeing someone else? No way, I don’t buy it. There has to be another explanation.”
Wyatt stood still, closing his eyes in concentration. Bianca knew he was empathically reaching out for Chris. She didn’t say a word. He had always done this for as long as she had known the Halliwells.
“Ok, he’s physically fine.” The tension that had built suddenly in Wyatt’s stomach dissipated. Concern for his little brother was always a serious matter. Their father had instilled in him how important it was to always protect Chris.
“So what do you really think is wrong with him?”
“I’m not sure. Like I said, it’s just been little things.”
“I wouldn’t consider his neglect of Athena as a ‘little thing’ Binks.”
Wyatt lifted the lid on the copper pot between them on the island. Bianca unconsciously closed her eyes as she inhaled the wonderful scents.
“You know he loves that little girl. She’s the best thing to come out of this family since . . . “ Wyatt turned away at the terrible memory.
Bianca winced inwardly knowing how hard it was for Wyatt to think back on that terrible time. She stood rounded the island, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t go there. Stay here with Athena and me. We’ll figure out what’s wrong with my husband.”
She laid her hand briefly on his cheek before moving back to her seat.
Wyatt shook the memories off and straightened himself. This was not the time to dwell on the past. “Ok, when did you first notice a difference?”
Bianca thought back and then told Wyatt everything she could think of regarding Chris’s behavior.
“Maybe it’s just the realization that he’s a father now. It sounds to me like he’s just having difficulty adjusting to having the baby around. Maybe something triggered it. Is he having the nightmares still?” Bianca shook her head.
“Not that I know of. If he is, he's not waking me up like he used to.” She sighed. “Maybe you’re right.”
She took a sip of tea. “Maybe it’s all in my head.”
“Let’s call him at work and see if he can spare a few minutes to come over for dinner. I’ll keep an eye on him and see if I notice anything strange. Ok?”
“Sounds good.” Bianca slyly eyed the steaming pots. “Sooooo, . . . what are we having anyway?”
