The Network

[thedarkfuture]

Summary: When the war first started Chris Halliwell had a hope, no matter how small, that he could somehow win it. That was almost a decade ago. Now the only chance left is his desperate plan to travel into the past. A place where his family is less than helpful and shadows from the future are racing to catch up with him. S6 from Chris’s perspective. Canon divergence after 6x15.

Chapter 8: Not to Plan AO3 / FF.net

Chapter 7: Dark Intentions AO3 / FF.net 

[robert-nash]

morality bites / ex libris

[charmed-]

[pruehalliwel]

color-coded ♦ prue ⇒ brown

[charmed-]

Charmed Ones Hairstyles - [4/16] » S07E07 “Someone to Witch Over Me”

[thedarkfuture]

Summary: When the war first started Chris Halliwell had a hope, no matter how small, that he could somehow win it. That was almost a decade ago. Now the only chance left is his desperate plan to travel into the past. A place where his family is less than helpful and shadows from the future are racing to catch up with him. S6 from Chris’s perspective. Canon divergence after 6x15.

Chapter 7: Dark Intentions AO3 / FF.net

Chapter 6: Strategic Thinking AO3 / FF.net

[thedarkfuture]

Summary: When the war first started Chris Halliwell had a hope, no matter how small, that he could somehow win it. That was almost a decade ago. Now the only chance left is his desperate plan to travel into the past. A place where his family is less than helpful and shadows from the future are racing to catch up with him. S6 from Chris’s perspective. Canon divergence after 6x15.

Chapter 6: Strategic Thinking AO3 / FF.net

Chapter 5: Dereliction of Duty AO3 / FF.net

[bufflehanearchive]

paige matthews + hair porn

[nathanshales]

#charmedaw2016 🔮 day 4: favorite powers ↳ ability to move objects as well as individuals with the mind and defensive technique that can only be used to impede and redirect attacks

[thedarkfuture]

Summary: When the war first started Chris Halliwell had a hope, no matter how small, that he could somehow win it. That was almost a decade ago. Now the only chance left is his desperate plan to travel into the past. A place where his family is less than helpful and shadows from the future are racing to catch up with him. S6 from Chris’s perspective. Canon divergence after 6x15.

Chapter 5: Dereliction of Duty AO3 / FF.net

Chapter 4: A God Above AO3 / FF.net 

[annamariehowlett]

[xpiperhalliwellx]

[rumiinatophat]

CHARMED MEME  › [½ spells]  The Power of Three Spell

[thedarkfuture]

Summary: When the war first started Chris Halliwell had a hope, no matter how small, that he could somehow win it. That was almost a decade ago. Now the only chance left is his desperate plan to travel into the past. A place where his family is less than helpful and shadows from the future are racing to catch up with him. S6 from Chris’s perspective. Canon divergence after 6x15.

FF.net

AO3

Chapter 4 A God Above

All through the night they tried to release Paige from her stone prison but nothing worked. He rolled his eyes and turned to the curio cabinet as they tried the same thing over and over again. As if it wasn't the definition of insanity. Inside it were various nick-knacks and figurines he hadn't seen since just after he turned fifteen. Many of them he'd played with as a child, much to his mother’s frequent annoyance.

"Now what are you doing over here," Phoebe asked with a frown as she walked over to him.

"Nothin'," he said as he fiddled with a candle he remembered almost burning the attic down with at the tender age of seven. Wyatt had been the reason only the two of them ever knew about that little tidbit. His brother had sensed his distress and come running, putting the fire out with the attic's water filled scrying bowl. Then he’d moved the couch to hide the scorch mark as Chris had been too panicked to attempt the move without destroying something. At the time it had seemed like such a serious event but looking back it made him smile as he sniffed the rose scented wax. "You guys keep this stuff forever, you know that?"  

"You knew the Titan's were after the Elders didn't you," he recognized that disapproving tone. The one she used when she was accusing someone of something but wasn't completely sure they were guilty. He put the memory down with a thump and turned to lean on the case giving her a level look, she was having none of it, "Why didn't you tell us?"

"I told you. There are some things I can't tell you," he shrugged, "Some things you need to figure out on your own."

"Even at the risk of making things worse," he would have countered had his mother not come charged into the room. What in the world made her think this wasn't something that needed to happen? He didn’t even want to think about the damage dozens of ‘should have been dead’ Elders would cause to the timeline at large.

"Alright, what's going on?" Piper stormed up to him and he suddenly felt twelve again. "Leo's not responding to any of my calls and it's been over five hours."

"I really don't know," he shrugged, he knew damn well what had happened. He'd felt the pain through his connection with the man and the vague moment of guilt he had from it frustrated him to no end.

"Well, I really think you do," she cocked her head and he knew that her threats weren't far behind the telltale motion.

"Look, you're the one who wanted him to go up there in the first place, not me," which was a truth as much as it was a lie. He'd wanted Leo up there, he just hadn't wanted to directly say it himself. If the looks on their face was anything to go by both of the sisters were onto his game and that wasn’t good. "Alright fine, maybe I do know, and if I'm right he's going to need some serious alone time."

"You know what, cut it out with the cryptic crap," he rolled his eyes, as if he wanted to be doing any of this. They were acting like he got off on this or something, "You need to go up there and bring him back. Now. No more games."

"Ok, fine," he relented, mostly because he wanted to stop her from looking at him like that. Hopefully it'd been enough time that Leo would be somewhat more amiable to the conversation they needed to have. He'd wanted to wait until Paige was free but now worked just as good he supposed. "I'll go but if I was you two I'd focus on freeing Paige because you're going to need her. Soon."

0ooo0ooo0ooo0

He orbed into a glowing white hallway and stood for a moment debating with himself. He wasn't supposed to be up here and this could get him in trouble but he didn't care. Wyatt had been gone for a week now and had missed his soccer game this afternoon, the district finals game. He'd promised to be there and he'd missed Chris' game winning goal. Nothing his mother could say to him once she'd come down to the field alone had made him feel any less betrayed. His father was a lost cause where that was concerned, and he didn't care if the man ever showed up, but Wyatt was different. This was the first time in his life that Wyatt had let him down. For that he knew who held the blame.

The Elders.

Dad's friends, his colleagues, and the only 'family' that Leo really cared about. They were the jerks that helped destroy his family and didn't care who they hurt as long as they got what they wanted. He sighed and shook himself. He knew they had a purpose in the universe, that they needed to exist but did they really have to be such assholes about it all the time? Why couldn't they just be a group of kind old men and women who wanted to help people, who were wise and understanding instead of self-righteous and pushy?

"Christopher Halliwell?" still dressed in his dirty soccer uniform the eleven year old brunette spun on his heel to look behind him. It was his father’s oldest friend and mentor, Gideon, though he'd never like the man himself. There was always something off about him and he'd never been very fond of Wyatt. "Whatever are you doing up here, young one?"

He huffed as his old annoyances and grievances came back, "I was looking for my brother. Mom says a week is long enough."

That wasn't even remotely true. He just knew an irate Charmed One matriarch's words would have more sway over decisions than the shafted younger brother no one cared about. "Ah, well, yes. I suppose he has been up here quite long enough. Come, I'll take you to him."

Something about Gideon’s tone bothered him, again, but he couldn't say why. Maybe it was just that Gideon didn't like the idea of a non-whitelighter spending so much time in the heavens, even if he was the Twice-Blessed. It wasn’t that uncommon a stance and Wyatt had complained about the situation more than once. His solution had been simple, just don’t go back. His brother had laughed uproariously and told him he was adorable. Chris had pouted for hours about that, repeatedly saying that he wasn't adorable which only made the older boy laugh harder.

He was led through several similar looking corridors and past golden cloaked beings clicking to one another. They barely spared the two of them a glance and Chris went back to looking at the floor with a frown. Finally they reached a white door inlaid with gold designs and he could hear something breaking as well as several voices on the other side. The Elder pushed open the door without hesitation to reveal his brother levitating a table with several vases on it, flanked by his father and two other Elders.

"Wyatt, you have to concentrate. Not a single one should be breaking at this point," said an elderly looking blonde woman as she glared at his brothers back.

His father looked over at his eldest son thoughtfully, "Maybe we're asking too much. He’s got so many powers, it makes sense some of them wouldn't be as refined."

"Leo," Gideon interrupted and vases shattered loudly as the table crashed to the ground. For a second Chris could have sworn his brother was terrified of something. Then the moment was gone and he looked put upon instead. Chris bit his lip to keep from laughing at the utter frustration on Wyatt’s face but sobered by the time the older boy looked over at them. Instantly the blonde’s eyes zeroed in on him and he saw confusion when he noticed the dirty team uniform. "Piper says a week is long enough. She wants Wyatt back."

"Chris," Leo sighed, annoyance with his ex-wife clear in his tone and posture. "Tell your-"

"A week?!" Wyatt cried looking at his father then looked back at his brother. The color drained from his face as the realization of why Chris was dressed they way he was sunk in. "I've been up here a week? But that means-"

"Yep," Chris said popping the P and folding his arms trying to appear nonchalant and failing spectacularly at fooling the other boy. He knew if Wyatt said anymore they'd realize why he was there and he projected as much to his brother. This was a jail break. Instantly his mind was filled with his brother’s apologies. The bond between them allowing him to appear upset but rational on the outside, while frantically trying to beg his little brother’s forgiveness. Chris let him grovel for a bit before a slight smile curved his lips, it's ok, I know it's not your fault Wy.

Damn right! I couldn't even hear you calling for me. What if something had happened?! His voice snarled in his little brother's head before the boy turned angry eyes on his father, "I'm going home. I'll make sure to practice and get it right by the time I come back."

Leo opened his mouth to protest and then gave up as his oldest son stalked away to his youngest. It was then that their father seemed to notice Chris's appearance and he raised an eyebrow, "Did you just come from a soccer game, Chris?"

He paused as his brother took his hand, still sending him regrets, apologies and comfort, then he turned to face the older man, "Yeah, today was the division championships. I won the game for my team, you know, in case you were wondering."

Then they both vanished into blue lights heading home. In their wake they left a flabbergasted group of Elders and a stunned Leo. He wondered what new ‘I'm so sorry’ letter or gift he was going to get this time.

0ooo0ooo0ooo0

Chris solidified in the great hall next to a pillar and leaned on it to take in the devastation around him. The bodies were everywhere and so were the black marks left behind by blasts of energy. It wasn't the first massacre he'd ever witness and certainly not the worst, hell there wasn't even any blood. Though a part of him did wonder if this was what the Heavens had looked like after Wyatt's trap had sprung, then nixed the thought. This had been quick. From what the few survivors had told him about his brothers revenge culling that was far bloodier and much longer lasting. It had even distracted the older boy long enough for Paige to break him out of his prison.

"Leo," he said carefully, knowing the broken man was on the verge of exploding, the look he received in response made him shift his feet into a fighting stance.   

"Why didn't you tell me," Leo growled as he stalked toward him, grabbed him by the shoulders, and shook him violently. "Why did you let this happen?!"

"Easy, easy!" Chris chided as he tried to make his voice sound compassionate and understanding, when in reality he could care less about these people or, in a lot of ways, the man in front of him.

"Why?!" Leo yelled in his face, spittle flying and Chris had had enough.

"Because this had to happen!" he snapped his voice hard and authoritative, uncompromising in its certainty. He'd talked down enough distraught people in his time. In fact he'd become something of an expert at it and wasn't that just sad. His demeanor clicked with the ex-soldier in his father and he felt the blind rage drain out of the other man. "It had to happen so that you could do what has to be done."

"What are you talking about?" Leo asked through clenched teeth as he turned away. Chris noticed that he'd subconsciously slipped into a military stance like a soldier at rest. "They're all dead."

He watched his father’s back with calculating eyes. There were a lot of ways he could work with that, he just had to find the right one, "No, not all of them. Some Elders escaped back to Earth, but it won't be long until the Titans hunt them down too. You can still stop them, you can still defeat the Titans."

"How?" and with that one broken word he knew he'd chosen right. He had his foot in the door, now he had to push that little extra inch.

"I think you know how," he replied slowly walking forward to circle in front of the upset but now at least rational man.

"It's too dangerous, the Elder’s forbid it," Leo replied, ever the company man. Chris wanted to roll his eyes in disgust but checked himself. His attitude was already pushing the boundaries of what his family would consider to be ‘good’, he didn’t want them to start doubting and disregarding his intentions completely.

"True, but the Elder's aren't around to stop you now are they?” he conceded running his tongue over his front teeth. His face wasn't as sympathetic as it should have been as he paced and Leo was picking up on that. So he tried the commander again, he was better at that anyway. "That's right Leo, this is what it's all about. This is why they had to die so that you could do something they'd never do. To save the future for your family, for your son. "

"This is crazy," Leo murmured and Chris knew he had him.

"Maybe, but it's our only chance. Like it or not you've been put into this situation for a reason Leo, we both have." Which was just the god's honest truth, at least in regards to him. He'd been led his whole life to this mission.

"Says you," Chris watched green eyes, identical to his own, narrow and he snorted, letting frustration overtake him for a brief moment. "How do I know you're not trying to manipulate this situation for your own future? Just the way you've manipulated everything else."

"You don't," he replied, his voice devoid of emotion. Technically he was fixing things to make a better future for himself but that didn’t automatically mean it was a bad thing. If he fixed the future for himself, then it would be fixed for everyone. So if he had to manipulate his family of the past a little to achieve that, it’s what he was going to do. Although he was finding it uncomfortably easy to use his father. At least with the sisters he felt guilt, but with Leo, all he felt was irritation that it was taking longer than he would have liked. "But what choice do you have. There's certainly no future unless you do something."

"I don't know. Even if I believed you, even if I wanted too, I couldn't. I'm no Elder," he replied still watching him with those distrustful eyes.

"Well you better start acting like one," Chris snapped, pushing down the urge to throttle the man. This was a fact the other man just had to deal with. He was done catering to Leo's delicate sensibilities, he had a job to do and this was wasting time.

Leo still hesitated and he ground his teeth a little but did his best to appear calm. Of everyone in his life, his father was the only one outside of Wyatt that could really get under his skin. There was too much resentment there and his temper was just starting to boil over when the other man finally relented and entered the golden storeroom doors.

Now alone in the wreckage of the great hall he let out a long breath as he tried his best to push down his emotions. Only to find that they were too volatile at the moment to be easily sealed away. He needed an outlet. So he grabbed a blade out of his pocket and threw it as hard as he could into a distant stone bench. With the throw he used his powers to channel all his frustration into the metal, trying to expel them through his magic. The blade struck true and the seat exploded into pieces that flew in all directions. He made a tsking sound as he raised his hand to stop the blowback from hitting him even at this distance away from the source. Then he was annoyed with himself as he called the weapon back to find that it was warped and unusable. He made a noise somewhere between a growl and a sigh as he pocketed the twisted metal and moved to sit on the steps, uncaring of the bodies around him. He'd lived in a world where billions had been slaughtered, corpses were like bushes to him at this point.  

"Piper," Leo gasped sounding desperate to get back to the woman he loved as he walked out of the vault several moments later. He’d heard her constant calling as well, and almost rolled his eyes at it.

"No." Chris ordered sternly, he'd come too far, he wasn't going to let his father mess it up now.

"But she needs me," he almost whined and this time Chris really did roll his eyes.

"Not as much as the rest of us do," he countered. "You need to stay here, even after to coordinate."

"Alright, then you should go. Otherwise the girls won't understand." This was what he’d wanted anyway, the fact that Leo thought it was his idea was just a bonus.

"Good luck," on some level he knew he meant that but most of him just wanted to get away and leave Leo to his fate.

He hadn't expected Piper to be happy when he returned by himself but the fact that she almost seemed disgusted to see him instead of her husband was actually hurtful, "You? Where's Leo?"

"He's safe, for now," he said trying to placate her, while still planting the seed for later. Then he noticed the youngest, currently red headed sister and couldn’t help himself. Paige had been his favorite aunt growing up. He could always count on her to be there, to help him out. She'd died helping him out, "Paige, hi."

It was definitely the friendliest greeting he'd given to any of them and all three were taken aback by it, "Hi?"

"Forget that," Piper said looking back and forth between them interested but also not deterred.

"What do you mean for now? What's going on?"

"And what is this about us supposedly battling the Titans?" Phoebe added and he wanted to laugh at them but settled for a smile instead. Oh, he remembered how much his mother and aunts used to gripe about all the costumes they were forced to wear over the years. He honestly couldn't wait to witness the legendary freak out.

"You're about to find out," he knew his barely contained glee was making them wary but he didn't care. His plan was working almost perfectly so far and after months of planning and years of suffering he felt the universe could give him this little bit of enjoyment at least.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Paige asked just before he felt the pulse of power descending upon them and he shifted out of the way slightly for it.

It hit the three women and, with a bright flash, they stood before him dressed in different styles of chiton. They were briefly stunned and then the much talked about panic attacks began. He had to bite his tongue to hold back his laughter as Phoebe spun around in circles to look at her long flowing blonde hair and her sisters weren’t faring any better.

"That's what that means," he knew he had a large cheshire cat grin on his face, but hey, could anyone who understood really blame him.

"What happened?" Paige asked looking from the pitch fork in her hand then to him. "What are we?"

"You're gods," he said as if it was the simplest thing in the world, finally containing himself and his 'wise man from the future' facade firmly in place. Even if a small part of him was still cackling in a corner of his mind. A part that was only encouraged by the dismayed look of disbelief Piper was giving him.

Oh yes, this was going to be fun.

=======

A/N: just wanted to say there is an actual show based canon reason why Leo became so distant and thoughtless in this story that I will get to in later chapters. Basically he didn’t just wake up one day and decide he didn’t care about his family anymore. There was a process and manipulation involved. Hint for it in next chapter, props to anyone who gets it before they’re told.

Next Time: Chris deals with insubordination and broken promises, with varying degrees of success.       

Chapter 4

A God Above

All through the night they tried to release Paige from her stone prison but nothing worked. He rolled his eyes and turned to the curio cabinet as they tried the same thing over and over again. As if it wasn't the definition of insanity. Inside it were various nick-knacks and figurines he hadn't seen since just after he turned fifteen. Many of them he'd played with as a child, much to his mother’s frequent annoyance.

"Now what are you doing over here," Phoebe asked with a frown as she walked over to him.

"Nothin'," he said as he fiddled with a candle he remembered almost burning the attic down with at the tender age of seven. Wyatt had been the reason only the two of them ever knew about that little tidbit. His brother had sensed his distress and come running, putting the fire out with the attic's water filled scrying bowl. Then he’d moved the couch to hide the scorch mark as Chris had been too panicked to attempt the move without destroying something. At the time it had seemed like such a serious event but looking back it made him smile as he sniffed the rose scented wax. "You guys keep this stuff forever, you know that?"      

"You knew the Titan's were after the Elders didn't you," he recognized that disapproving tone. The one she used when she was accusing someone of something but wasn't completely sure they were guilty. He put the memory down with a thump and turned to lean on the case giving her a level look, she was having none of it, "Why didn't you tell us?"

"I told you. There are some things I can't tell you," he shrugged, "Some things you need to figure out on your own."

"Even at the risk of making things worse," he would have countered had his mother not come charged into the room. What in the world made her think this wasn't something that needed to happen? He didn’t even want to think about the damage dozens of ‘should have been dead’ Elders would cause to the timeline at large.

"Alright, what's going on?" Piper stormed up to him and he suddenly felt twelve again. "Leo's not responding to any of my calls and it's been over five hours."

"I really don't know," he shrugged, he knew damn well what had happened. He'd felt the pain through his connection with the man and the vague moment of guilt he had from it frustrated him to no end.

"Well, I really think you do," she cocked her head and he knew that her threats weren't far behind the telltale motion.

"Look, you're the one who wanted him to go up there in the first place, not me," which was a truth as much as it was a lie. He'd wanted Leo up there, he just hadn't wanted to directly say it himself. If the looks on their face was anything to go by both of the sisters were onto his game and that wasn’t good. "Alright fine, maybe I do know, and if I'm right he's going to need some serious alone time."

"You know what, cut it out with the cryptic crap," he rolled his eyes, as if he wanted to be doing any of this. They were acting like he got off on this or something, "You need to go up there and bring him back. Now. No more games."

"Ok, fine," he relented, mostly because he wanted to stop her from looking at him like that. Hopefully it'd been enough time that Leo would be somewhat more amiable to the conversation they needed to have. He'd wanted to wait until Paige was free but now worked just as good he supposed. "I'll go but if I was you two I'd focus on freeing Paige because you're going to need her. Soon."

0ooo0ooo0ooo0

He orbed into a glowing white hallway and stood for a moment debating with himself. He wasn't supposed to be up here and this could get him in trouble but he didn't care. Wyatt had been gone for a week now and had missed his soccer game this afternoon, the district finals game. He'd promised to be there and he'd missed Chris' game winning goal. Nothing his mother could say to him once she'd come down to the field alone had made him feel any less betrayed. His father was a lost cause where that was concerned, and he didn't care if the man ever showed up, but Wyatt was different. This was the first time in his life that Wyatt had let him down. For that he knew who held the blame.

The Elders.

Dad's friends, his colleagues, and the only 'family' that Leo really cared about. They were the jerks that helped destroy his family and didn't care who they hurt as long as they got what they wanted. He sighed and shook himself. He knew they had a purpose in the universe, that they needed to exist but did they really have to be such assholes about it all the time? Why couldn't they just be a group of kind old men and women who wanted to help people, who were wise and understanding instead of self-righteous and pushy?

"Christopher Halliwell?" still dressed in his dirty soccer uniform the eleven year old brunette spun on his heel to look behind him. It was his father’s oldest friend and mentor, Gideon, though he'd never like the man himself. There was always something off about him and he'd never been very fond of Wyatt. "Whatever are you doing up here, young one?"

He huffed as his old annoyances and grievances came back, "I was looking for my brother. Mom says a week is long enough."

That wasn't even remotely true. He just knew an irate Charmed One matriarch's words would have more sway over decisions than the shafted younger brother no one cared about. "Ah, well, yes. I suppose he has been up here quite long enough. Come, I'll take you to him."

Something about Gideon’s tone bothered him, again, but he couldn't say why. Maybe it was just that Gideon didn't like the idea of a non-whitelighter spending so much time in the heavens, even if he was the Twice-Blessed. It wasn’t that uncommon a stance and Wyatt had complained about the situation more than once. His solution had been simple, just don’t go back. His brother had laughed uproariously and told him he was adorable. Chris had pouted for hours about that, repeatedly saying that he wasn't adorable which only made the older boy laugh harder.

He was led through several similar looking corridors and past golden cloaked beings clicking to one another. They barely spared the two of them a glance and Chris went back to looking at the floor with a frown. Finally they reached a white door inlaid with gold designs and he could hear something breaking as well as several voices on the other side. The Elder pushed open the door without hesitation to reveal his brother levitating a table with several vases on it, flanked by his father and two other Elders.

"Wyatt, you have to concentrate. Not a single one should be breaking at this point," said an elderly looking blonde woman as she glared at his brothers back.

His father looked over at his eldest son thoughtfully, "Maybe we're asking too much. He’s got so many powers, it makes sense some of them wouldn't be as refined."

"Leo," Gideon interrupted and vases shattered loudly as the table crashed to the ground. For a second Chris could have sworn his brother was terrified of something. Then the moment was gone and he looked put upon instead. Chris bit his lip to keep from laughing at the utter frustration on Wyatt’s face but sobered by the time the older boy looked over at them. Instantly the blonde’s eyes zeroed in on him and he saw confusion when he noticed the dirty team uniform. "Piper says a week is long enough. She wants Wyatt back."

"Chris," Leo sighed, annoyance with his ex-wife clear in his tone and posture. "Tell your-"

"A week?!" Wyatt cried looking at his father then looked back at his brother. The color drained from his face as the realization of why Chris was dressed they way he was sunk in. "I've been up here a week? But that means-"

"Yep," Chris said popping the P and folding his arms trying to appear nonchalant and failing spectacularly at fooling the other boy. He knew if Wyatt said anymore they'd realize why he was there and he projected as much to his brother. This was a jail break. Instantly his mind was filled with his brother’s apologies. The bond between them allowing him to appear upset but rational on the outside, while frantically trying to beg his little brother’s forgiveness. Chris let him grovel for a bit before a slight smile curved his lips, it's ok, I know it's not your fault Wy.

Damn right! I couldn't even hear you calling for me. What if something had happened?! His voice snarled in his little brother's head before the boy turned angry eyes on his father, "I'm going home. I'll make sure to practice and get it right by the time I come back."

Leo opened his mouth to protest and then gave up as his oldest son stalked away to his youngest. It was then that their father seemed to notice Chris's appearance and he raised an eyebrow, "Did you just come from a soccer game, Chris?"

He paused as his brother took his hand, still sending him regrets, apologies and comfort, then he turned to face the older man, "Yeah, today was the division championships. I won the game for my team, you know, in case you were wondering."

Then they both vanished into blue lights heading home. In their wake they left a flabbergasted group of Elders and a stunned Leo. He wondered what new ‘I'm so sorry’ letter or gift he was going to get this time.

0ooo0ooo0ooo0

Chris solidified in the great hall next to a pillar and leaned on it to take in the devastation around him. The bodies were everywhere and so were the black marks left behind by blasts of energy. It wasn't the first massacre he'd ever witness and certainly not the worst, hell there wasn't even any blood. Though a part of him did wonder if this was what the Heavens had looked like after Wyatt's trap had sprung, then nixed the thought. This had been quick. From what the few survivors had told him about his brothers revenge culling that was far bloodier and much longer lasting. It had even distracted the older boy long enough for Paige to break him out of his prison.

"Leo," he said carefully, knowing the broken man was on the verge of exploding, the look he received in response made him shift his feet into a fighting stance.   

"Why didn't you tell me," Leo growled as he stalked toward him, grabbed him by the shoulders, and shook him violently. "Why did you let this happen?!"

"Easy, easy!" Chris chided as he tried to make his voice sound compassionate and understanding, when in reality he could care less about these people or, in a lot of ways, the man in front of him.

"Why?!" Leo yelled in his face, spittle flying and Chris had had enough.

"Because this had to happen!" he snapped his voice hard and authoritative, uncompromising in its certainty. He'd talked down enough distraught people in his time. In fact he'd become something of an expert at it and wasn't that just sad. His demeanor clicked with the ex-soldier in his father and he felt the blind rage drain out of the other man. "It had to happen so that you could do what has to be done."

"What are you talking about?" Leo asked through clenched teeth as he turned away. Chris noticed that he'd subconsciously slipped into a military stance like a soldier at rest. "They're all dead."

He watched his father’s back with calculating eyes. There were a lot of ways he could work with that, he just had to find the right one, "No, not all of them. Some Elders escaped back to Earth, but it won't be long until the Titans hunt them down too. You can still stop them, you can still defeat the Titans."

"How?" and with that one broken word he knew he'd chosen right. He had his foot in the door, now he had to push that little extra inch.

"I think you know how," he replied slowly walking forward to circle in front of the upset but now at least rational man.

"It's too dangerous, the Elder’s forbid it," Leo replied, ever the company man. Chris wanted to roll his eyes in disgust but checked himself. His attitude was already pushing the boundaries of what his family would consider to be ‘good’, he didn’t want them to start doubting and disregarding his intentions completely.

"True, but the Elder's aren't around to stop you now are they?” he conceded running his tongue over his front teeth. His face wasn't as sympathetic as it should have been as he paced and Leo was picking up on that. So he tried the commander again, he was better at that anyway. "That's right Leo, this is what it's all about. This is why they had to die so that you could do something they'd never do. To save the future for your family, for your son. "

"This is crazy," Leo murmured and Chris knew he had him.

"Maybe, but it's our only chance. Like it or not you've been put into this situation for a reason Leo, we both have." Which was just the god's honest truth, at least in regards to him. He'd been led his whole life to this mission.

"Says you," Chris watched green eyes, identical to his own, narrow and he snorted, letting frustration overtake him for a brief moment. "How do I know you're not trying to manipulate this situation for your own future? Just the way you've manipulated everything else."

"You don't," he replied, his voice devoid of emotion. Technically he was fixing things to make a better future for himself but that didn’t automatically mean it was a bad thing. If he fixed the future for himself, then it would be fixed for everyone. So if he had to manipulate his family of the past a little to achieve that, it’s what he was going to do. Although he was finding it uncomfortably easy to use his father. At least with the sisters he felt guilt, but with Leo, all he felt was irritation that it was taking longer than he would have liked. "But what choice do you have. There's certainly no future unless you do something."

"I don't know. Even if I believed you, even if I wanted too, I couldn't. I'm no Elder," he replied still watching him with those distrustful eyes.

"Well you better start acting like one," Chris snapped, pushing down the urge to throttle the man. This was a fact the other man just had to deal with. He was done catering to Leo's delicate sensibilities, he had a job to do and this was wasting time.

Leo still hesitated and he ground his teeth a little but did his best to appear calm. Of everyone in his life, his father was the only one outside of Wyatt that could really get under his skin. There was too much resentment there and his temper was just starting to boil over when the other man finally relented and entered the golden storeroom doors.

Now alone in the wreckage of the great hall he let out a long breath as he tried his best to push down his emotions. Only to find that they were too volatile at the moment to be easily sealed away. He needed an outlet. So he grabbed a blade out of his pocket and threw it as hard as he could into a distant stone bench. With the throw he used his powers to channel all his frustration into the metal, trying to expel them through his magic. The blade struck true and the seat exploded into pieces that flew in all directions. He made a tsking sound as he raised his hand to stop the blowback from hitting him even at this distance away from the source. Then he was annoyed with himself as he called the weapon back to find that it was warped and unusable. He made a noise somewhere between a growl and a sigh as he pocketed the twisted metal and moved to sit on the steps, uncaring of the bodies around him. He'd lived in a world where billions had been slaughtered, corpses were like bushes to him at this point.  

"Piper," Leo gasped sounding desperate to get back to the woman he loved as he walked out of the vault several moments later. He’d heard her constant calling as well, and almost rolled his eyes at it.

"No." Chris ordered sternly, he'd come too far, he wasn't going to let his father mess it up now.

"But she needs me," he almost whined and this time Chris really did roll his eyes.

"Not as much as the rest of us do," he countered. "You need to stay here, even after to coordinate."

"Alright, then you should go. Otherwise the girls won't understand." This was what he’d wanted anyway, the fact that Leo thought it was his idea was just a bonus.

"Good luck," on some level he knew he meant that but most of him just wanted to get away and leave Leo to his fate.

He hadn't expected Piper to be happy when he returned by himself but the fact that she almost seemed disgusted to see him instead of her husband was actually hurtful, "You? Where's Leo?"

"He's safe, for now," he said trying to placate her, while still planting the seed for later. Then he noticed the youngest, currently red headed sister and couldn’t help himself. Paige had been his favorite aunt growing up. He could always count on her to be there, to help him out. She'd died helping him out, "Paige, hi."

It was definitely the friendliest greeting he'd given to any of them and all three were taken aback by it, "Hi?"

"Forget that," Piper said looking back and forth between them interested but also not deterred.

"What do you mean for now? What's going on?"

"And what is this about us supposedly battling the Titans?" Phoebe added and he wanted to laugh at them but settled for a smile instead. Oh, he remembered how much his mother and aunts used to gripe about all the costumes they were forced to wear over the years. He honestly couldn't wait to witness the legendary freak out.

"You're about to find out," he knew his barely contained glee was making them wary but he didn't care. His plan was working almost perfectly so far and after months of planning and years of suffering he felt the universe could give him this little bit of enjoyment at least.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Paige asked just before he felt the pulse of power descending upon them and he shifted out of the way slightly for it.

It hit the three women and, with a bright flash, they stood before him dressed in different styles of chiton. They were briefly stunned and then the much talked about panic attacks began. He had to bite his tongue to hold back his laughter as Phoebe spun around in circles to look at her long flowing blonde hair and her sisters weren’t faring any better.

"That's what that means," he knew he had a large cheshire cat grin on his face, but hey, could anyone who understood really blame him.

"What happened?" Paige asked looking from the pitch fork in her hand then to him. "What are we?"

"You're gods," he said as if it was the simplest thing in the world, finally containing himself and his 'wise man from the future' facade firmly in place. Even if a small part of him was still cackling in a corner of his mind. A part that was only encouraged by the dismayed look of disbelief Piper was giving him.

Oh yes, this was going to be fun.

=======

A/N: just wanted to say there is an actual show based canon reason why Leo became so distant and thoughtless in this story that I will get to in later chapters. Basically he didn’t just wake up one day and decide he didn’t care about his family anymore. There was a process and manipulation involved. Hint for it in next chapter, props to anyone who gets it before they’re told.

Next Time: Chris deals with insubordination and broken promises, with varying degrees of success.       

[thedarkfuture]

Summary: When the war first started Chris Halliwell had a hope, no matter how small, that he could somehow win it. That was almost a decade ago. Now the only chance left is his desperate plan to travel into the past. A place where his family is less than helpful and shadows from the future are racing to catch up with him. S6 from Chris’s perspective. Canon divergence after 6x15.

FF.net

AO3

Chapter 3 Angel’s and Fate

It was a picture perfect Northern California fall day when Chris orbed onto a remote hilltop in Napa Valley. This was a special place he'd found almost two years ago when his mother had dragged them all over the area looking for a new wine seller for her restaurant. She and his brother had dutifully followed the tour guide through the nearby vineyard but he'd had a different idea. It was the fifth such tour that day and at twelve he could only be expected to endure so much. So he'd slipped away and wandered into the surrounding hills hoping to find a wood nymph or some fairies he could talk with until his mother wanted to leave.

What he'd found instead was a little valley nestled between two hills, crowded in bushy trees and at the center sat a large pinnacle shaped boulder. The area had a distinctly magical feeling, one that reminded him of his home, the one his mother had called the nexus. There was also something hidden there just below the surface. This place just about screamed right and safety to him. It was as if the very ground was telling him that this was the perfect place to hide should he ever need to run. That it was meant for him. Which was ridiculous. If he was ever in trouble his brother or mother would be there to help him and if not, then the rest of the family. He didn't need a place like this. Yet, he'd still stayed there for over an hour exploring the newfound wonderland before the calls of his mother and brother pulled him away.

He didn't want them to come looking for him. It was that feeling again, they couldn't know about this place. Normally he hated hiding anything from them but he figured this one time couldn't hurt. He'd grown up around magic, he knew when a feeling was real and when he was just being silly. So he'd run back to the vineyard and rejoined his family, gotten a talking to from both about wandering off and forgotten about it. At least, until after his fourteenth birthday.

After he lost his mother and almost died himself, Chris became obsessed with feeling safe again. His brother had even had to coax him out of his closet several times in those early days when being in large open spaces had sent his brain buzzing nonsensically. Phoebe and her PHD in psychology, had concluded that he had PTSD. That his actions were only natural given the traumatic experience he'd suffered and having his brother around had gone a long way to helping; but even Wyatt hadn't been enough to fix him completely. Especially when the Elders started commanding him back to the heavens after what they deemed to be an appropriate amount of time to mourn his loss. There was a new threat brewing in the Underworld and they needed their strongest weapon, willing or not. It was during one of these trips, when his brother had been gone for almost an entire day, that Chris nearly had a complete breakdown.

It was the first time since her death that he'd been alone for so long and he'd started to jump at shadows, his heart constantly hammering. It was petrifying to no longer feel safe in the place you called home. Finally, after he'd panicked over nothing and broken a lamp, he knew he couldn't stay in the house. Only that brought up its own concerns, namely, where was he supposed to go? He knew he was being ridiculous and didn't want to worry anyone, especially his brother. Wyatt had been combative enough with their father about the both of them not being there for him during the day. This was his problem and that meant his family and friends' houses weren't an option. They'd tell his brother and father out of concern for him, so where?

Like a flash of lightening, the memory of that valley in Napa came back to him. He took it as a sign, it had to be, and without further prompting he'd packed up a bag before orbing there. The place had worked like a charm and from that day forward if he was left home alone he headed to that spot. Originally he'd set up a tent for those increasingly frequent nights when he realized Wyatt wasn't coming home. It wasn't the most comfortable situation but at least he could sleep in the valley, something that didn't happen when he was alone in the house. It was a fate he'd all but resigned himself to until he'd caught an inspirational episode of an old show called Doctor Who. The bigger on the inside ship the main character travelled in gave him a ridiculously brilliant idea and he'd started researching a solution to his lodging problems based on the concept.

At first everything had worked out perfectly but eventually people started to notice things. Like the overly interested looks he got from Paige while she answered a question about pocket dimensions; or the side eye and raised eyebrows he'd get from the magic school bookkeeper when he checked out advanced warding books that he shouldn't be able to even comprehend at his level, let alone study effectively. His continual travels there, combined with his secrecy about it, also caused more than one argument between him and his brother that culminated in his brother agreeing to let him live his own life. Since then he'd been coming here almost daily instead of weekly and his 'hideout' was now completed.

Chris took deep breaths of the crisp country air as he jogged through the sparsely wooded forest to his destination, excitement bubbling up in him. Today was his last day to double check and clean the hideout. Tomorrow, after his fifteenth birthday party, he'd show it to Wyatt. It was only fair, he'd strung his brother along for months, teasing him about the 'special project' he'd been working on when the blonde wasn't around. One he'd had to swear up and down wasn't dangerous.

As always the valley radiated peace as he moved to the rock at the center and raised his hand. His intention had been to activate the barely visible seal etched into the stone and open the doorway, but he stopped as his shadow was cast into sharp relief by a golden light behind him. Instantly he spun around with an athame in one hand and his powers in the other, to find a middle aged African woman behind him. Dressed in a golden white robe, her salt and pepper hair was pulled into a braid and she watched him with deep brown eyes that he knew from somewhere. He knew her, but he couldn't say how.

"Who are you?" Chris snapped every magical defense he had on alert and he threw out a call to Wyatt that something wasn't right. Only to find a blank space in his mind where his brother should have been. Panic set in and he stepped back into the boulder behind him, effectively boxing himself in between it and her. "What's going on?"

The woman smiled gently and held her hands out in a placating gesture, "Hello Chris, I know you don't remember it but you and I have met before. I'm here to help."

Chris inched to the side, away from her, as he tried frantically to yell for his brother through their suddenly non-existent bond. "Help? Really? So that's why you're suddenly here and Wyatt's gone."

At the mention of his brother she looked around uneasily, "Yes, Wyatt. You were planning to show him this place tomorrow."

Chris flinched back at the almost accusatory tone, as if it was a sin to share his work with his brother. His eye narrowed. It wouldn't be the first time an outside force had tried to make him doubt his brother and he was sure it wouldn't be the last, "What I tell my brother is none of your business. Who the hell are you?"

Her gaze shifted back to him and he wished it hadn't as he was all but swallowed by its depths. It was like the universe was in her eyes. His weapon dropped from his listless fingers and thumped in the dirt. He didn't have a hope of fighting this person, if she even was a person, "We should talk inside. It would be unwise to allow ourselves to be overheard."

"What are-" he started to ask but he was frozen by some kind of magic as she moved forward to the rock, now slightly to his right because he'd shifted so much.

"Come," she said with the same firm but grandmotherly tone he'd heard his Grams use when she was summoned for one reason or another. "We must talk. I must explain what little I can before it falls apart."

Then she walked forward and straight through the rock beside him, disappearing inside.

He was floored and then enraged that this-this entity thought it could just corner him, cut him off from his brother, and then enter his hideout without his permission. Dammit. Now was he going to have to research a stronger barrier! Then again, was that even worth his time? Was this place safe anymore? The million questions swirling in his head overrode his common sense and he slammed his palm against the circular design he'd almost touched before. The intricate symbol glowed a bright sky blue before it sank into the rock and the stone pulled apart around it. The magic left behind an archway that opened onto a large stone room, which he stormed into heedless of the possible danger.

His hideout was nothing spectacular just three rooms and a hallway. The main room he entered now was a large circular space he'd divided in half. The left side was the 'kitchen' where he stored snacks and almost every potion ingredient imaginable. On the other was the 'library' where he stored the decently sized collection of books he'd acquired over the last year. Lastly the center was taken up by a large rectangular table covered in open books and papers with half completed designs on them.

"I didn't say you could come in here," Chris snarled glaring at the woman as he tapped an empty glass ball next to the doorway. A small spark of light appeared at the center and the dull glow eerily illuminated the woman further into the room. Then the spark traveled down a cord, lighting more glass bulbs in its wake. In seconds the room was brightly lit and the doorway behind him closed itself. With his arms folded he stood and waited for her response as she made what looked like an inspection of the rooms. She even took a quick glance through the archway at the back that opened onto a hall with two small bedrooms off of it.

"This is well constructed Chris, a bit rudimentary but stable and well bonded. It'll be easy to expand. A very good first attempt," She gave him a look that could almost be called pride, but that didn't make sense. "The flourishes will come with time, they always do."

"Right...and you're here why?" he asked exasperatedly, he was done dancing around whatever topic she was avoiding. "Look, either you tell me or I'm gone and never coming back."

"I'm an Angel of Destiny, Christopher Halliwell, you should be more polite," she said, her voice was soft but the truth and authority of that statement shook him to his very core. It wasn't a question of whether she was being truthful, he knew she was just like he knew his own name. "And I have been with you since your birth."

"Wha-What? Why?" he stuttered unable to comprehend that thought. An Angel of Destiny was following him but that didn't make any sense! He wasn't Wyatt. He didn't have a destiny or all powerful prophecy attached to him. He wasn't Twice Blessed or the Future King Arthur. He was Chris, just Chris.

She sighed and sat down heavily on one of the many chairs he'd placed around the room's central table. "Before your birth a choice was made that shouldn't have been and everything's been spiraling out of control since. We've tried to fix it but we failed."

Chris was intrigued, not that it was a hard thing to make him feel. He was a curious person by nature and she'd hooked him. So he dropped his backpack on the table and sat across from her, "Ok, and that's my problem how?"

"We made a mistake with your brother," she said and because of the bluntness it took him a moment to register what she meant. However when it did he stood, about to start yelling and she held up her hand before he could. "I don't mean his existence, I mean the destiny we gave him. When your mother had to face hers she had her sisters and it was still almost too much for her, for all of them. Even King Arthur had Merlin. Your brother on the other hand was originally meant to face his alone. It was an error we realized within the first year of his life and you were thought into being to fix it."

"Wait…are you tryin' to tell me I'm supposed to be my brother's… Merlin?" Chris asked staring at her, then he laughed, "You're joking?"

"It's not a joke Christopher," she admonished and her gaze rested heavily on him, almost as if she was reluctant to tell him more. "And yes, that was your original purpose. But that changed when an - when a powerful being changed the flow of destiny. He broke it. You were even born too early as a result and it marked you."

"Marked me?" He asked his voice slightly higher than normal, this couldn't be anything good. "What does that mean? Stop talking in riddles!"

"I can't tell you -" she started to say but Chris quickly stood up again and slammed his hands on the table. In his emotional state he unintentionally let loose a blast of telekinetic energy and it sent the tables' clutter flying in all directions.

"No! You don't get to do that! You can't just show up here, tell me I have some grand destiny and then just not tell me what's going on!" he cried, his eyes flashing at the sedate woman but she looked like she expected the reaction.

Years ago he'd been jealous of his brother. Wyatt had all this hype surrounding him, he was special, and people fawning over him, their dad included. He on the other hand had been relegated to the background by everyone but his mother, aunts, and the brother who refused to let his destiny come between them. It wasn't until he was old enough to see the cracks in him that he realized Wyatt's fate was nothing to be jealous about. His brother was constantly burdened and controlled by the expectations of others. Chris didn't know if he was built for that kind of pressure.

"Halliwells, you lot are always jumping down people's throats," she said as if speaking to someone more than him and shook her head. "I can't tell you much. Not only is it against the rules but the universe is in a state of uncertainty. If I tell you too much it could make things worse. Even being here is a risk but one I must take or it will fall apart with nothing to stop it."

The fourteen, almost fifteen, year old stared at her as the sobering weight of something settled on his shoulders. Whether that something had always been there and he was just now aware of it, or it had now been laid there he couldn't say, "What can you tell me?"

"That you can fix it," she paused, then stood up and walked around the table to him. He watched her, as she leaned down and cupped his face in both hands so that he couldn't look away. "Everyone is born into this world for a reason. Your purpose was to be a balance but when the choice was made you became something else, our failsafe. As a result you've been given all the guidance and pushes required toward the skills you'll need to complete your task."

"So, you've been manipulating me all my life to fix something you let get screwed up in the first place?" He asked, on the verge of crying at the picture that was being presented to him. She sighed and then let him go to pick up one of the papers he'd knocked to the floor. On it was a half completed ward he'd been trying to build.

"Chris you were meant to help Wyatt, as your aunt's helped your mother. To that end you were given specific talents just as he was given powerful magic." she said placing the paper on the table before him. "When we realized we couldn't fix the issue you were given pushes toward honing those talents but we could only do so much, free will does exist. You're the one who took those moments of inspiration and ran with them. You made the choice and continue to make the choice, to master these skills. At any point you could have stopped, still can, but you didn't and I don't think you will. You and your determination made you what you are, we just gave you the tools and directions."

Chris picked up the paper and bit his lip as he stared at it, that wasn't such a bad idea he supposed. He'd just essentially been given divine help finding the things he was good at. Only wards, pocket dimension creation, and spell anchors didn't seem like useful things for him to be skilled at, "Why is this so important? It's just…magical math."

"You'll see," She looked up and he knew that expression from having grown up in the family he had. Someone higher up was calling her. She frowned and turned back to put her hand under his chin so he couldn't look away again. "Chris I have to go but I want to give you a warning. Tell no one, not even your brother, about this place until the time is right. Believe me when I say, you'll know when that is."

That warning delivered with a heavy finality, she turned into the ball of golden light and disappeared before his eyes. In her wake she left a confused and frightened boy behind to deal with the ramifications of her words.

0ooo0ooo0ooo0

The overheated wind weaved itself through his now short hair as it whipped his cloths around him and he focused on the city before him. With his eyes closed behind gradient sunglasses, he easily blocked out the sound of the traffic on the bridge below. This needed to be timed right. He could feel them, through the bond that had snapped into being the second he'd seen each of them. Blood called to blood after all and he'd had to get another ward tattooed on his left shoulder to prevent the bond from communicating both ways completely. The seal made the familial bonds tenuous, a one way street, but it was enough to let him know how they were doing. At least until he could get himself assigned their whitelighter and that link was formed.

His eyes snapped open when Paige's energy disappeared off his radar and he orbed into the Manor's attic. A quick glance was enough to assess the situation and he moved to Phoebe who was on the ground after being thrown through what looked like a table. He grabbed her and pushed her back down out of the Titan's line of sight before she could look at the god again.

"Don't look into her eyes!" he snapped grabbing every potion within reach and lobbing them at the powerful deity. It only took a few bottles before she got frustrated and left without a fight. Then he pulled off his glasses and helped his aunt to her feet. "You alright?"

Phoebe blinked at him and the lack of recognition in her eyes hurt more than it should have. Then she too surveyed the damage and noticed the now petrified form of her youngest sister. "Oh my god, Paige!"

"Don't worry she's alright," he said walking up behind her after watching her carefully for several seconds. She threw him a disbelieving and slightly horrified, look. "Ok, well, alright she's not completely alright but she's not dead."

"Are you sure she's not?" Phoebe asked softly and she placed a hand on her sister's stone face as if trying to connect with the person trapped inside.

"Frankly you see this a lot, museums, universities town centers. Most of those statues aren't really statues. They're people like your sister here who have been, ah," he paused a little choking on the words, being flippant with her was hard. "Turned into stone."

That seemed to both satisfy and worry her more, so she redirected her focus to him, "Who are you?"

"Chris, Chris Perry," he lied with some reluctance, wanting more than anything to tell her the truth. Then he said something he knew she wasn't going to believe right away. "I'm from the future."

"Oh! My God!" his mother cried as she walked into the room and he almost froze like a deer in headlights for a second before he was able control himself. His heart still beating quickly, he had to look away at his stone encased aunt until his emotions settled. "Tell me that's just a really good likeness of Paige."

"No," Phoebe dithered, patting the statues' head, trying to give it comfort again. "It's Paige."

"A Titan turned her to stone," he offered, saying his first words to her in over eight years. It was almost comical how anti-climatic it was for him.

"A who?" She looked at him with utter bewilderment and outright suspicion, "Who are you?"

The almost angry accusation closed his throat but Phoebe was there to fill in for him. Her tone mocking, "That's Chris, he's from the future."

"Yeah," he said clearing his throat and ignoring his aunt's expected skepticism, "But just like twenty years or so."

"Friend or foe?" Piper asked out the side of her mouth and he could see the way her hands were poised for a vanquishing.

Phoebe scurried away to her older sister's side muttering, "Not sure yet."

He didn't even have to pretend to be offended, "What do you mean, I saved Paige didn't I?"

Piper laughed, "oh, you call that saving do you?"

"Hey, I'm the one who put my life on the line here," he shot back doing his best to seem dismissive of their problems. Over the last few years evil had made a concentrated effort to infiltrate their ranks and it had left them rightfully paranoid of outsiders. For his plan to work they needed to think, at least at first, that they weren't his targets. That working with them was a happy accident, not his end goal. "I didn't have to drop everything I was doing to just orb in and save her butt-"

"You orb?" her tone was scornful now and the part of him that had always felt inferior ached slightly. "You're a whitelighter?"

He'd expected this but that didn't mean the suspicion and insults hurt any less. It was a pain he used, channeling it into annoyance, to do what needed to be done. To help him lie to them convincingly.

"Look, where I come from history shows Paige didn't get turned to stone, she died." they were stunned by the declaration, he had their attention, "and with her death the power of three died too. Allowing Titan's to rule and create a world, you don't want to see. Trust me. I'm here to alter history. To help you save the future."

Truth mixed with lies, he knew it was the best way to make his story believable. That didn't stop his aunt from still being cautious though, "Who sent you?"

"I can't answer that," he replied after a second's pause. He had a feeling this was going to become a bone of contention between them. If he was in their situation he…well actually he'd probably be a lot more open to the idea having lived the life he had but he could understand their hesitancy. This was going to take time.

"Why not," Phoebe asked proving his assumptions correct.

"Because anything I tell you could risk changing the future in ways we don't want," he thought he was being very convincing, he was wrong.

"Who's we," Piper shot back arms folded and eyes hard. It reminded him of his childhood, and he realized his mistake. A 'he' was a do-gooder helper, a 'he' attached to a 'we' was a conspiracy.

"All I gotta say is," he replied, grasping for a distraction and frustratingly future knowledge was the only one he could think of, "Is that if I hadn't gotten here when I did, Paige would have been the third whitelighter victim."

"Third?" Phoebe gasped, "Wait, I thought only one was missing."

He shrugged, "Not anymore."

"Leo! Leo!" He clenched his jaw when his father materialized before him and the parental bond between them that had been muted to almost non-existence by time snapped back into place. The tattoo on his shoulder burned hotly, blocking Leo's side of it and he was glad he was facing them with a coat on to block the glow. His mind churned, this younger version looked so much like the father who'd never been there for him. Though he could also see shades of the aged and desperate man he'd had an argument with before his trip back. Currently he was apologizing for missing some kind of therapy session. It seemed even this far back his father was a flake when it came to his family. "Forget that, we've got bigger problems."

"What happened," the man asked, noticing the statue of Paige and him standing next to it, though the man's eyes barely glanced at him, typical.

"Forget that too," Piper said bringing his attention back to her. "How many whitelighters are missing?"

"What?" and he wanted to chuckle at his father's slow uptake on the situation and how frustrated his mother seemed to be by it.

"How many?" her tone was still patient but the underlying threat in it reminded him of all the times she'd caught him in a lie. That tone meant tell me what I want or face the consequence. He knew better than to ignore it and apparently so did his father.

"Two," he answered, then quickly moved to comment on his earlier point. "That's what the Elders just called me for,"

"Believe me now?" Chris asked sharply, inserting himself back into the conversation.

"Who's he?" Leo glanced at the sisters and then glared at him suspiciously. The look made him want to hit the older man.

He felt the change in the house's energy levels half a second before they all heard the loud crash from downstairs. He watched the door thoughtfully, as everyone else looked at each other before running to head downstairs to see what new calamity had befallen them. He didn't need to see them, he could sense the assortment of magical creatures seeking asylum. He remembered this part of the story and chuckled to himself as he imagined the looks on all their faces, before turning to look at the Book of Shadows. He'd waited two months for this. It had been a tactical decision because he didn't want to risk meeting them all too soon. Now as he touched the leather cover he felt a rush of magic and smiled. It recognized him as family, even if no one else did.

He turned the pages with gentle reverence, not really looking for anything in particular. It was surreal to see the Book so thin and pages devoted to vanquished demons clean of the notes that the sisters had written on them. He was so lost in his reverie that the sound of a crying baby startled him and his magic pulled him away. It brought him downstairs and into his mother's room, the door to her closet was open and he could see the crib inside. He swore when he realized what had happened and went backed to the attic, ignoring the pull that tried to draw him back. He turned back to the book and started flipping through it with more purpose, in an effort to distract himself.

"What are you doing," Piper asked as she walked into the room. He wondered if the confusion in her voice was because he had the audacity to touch the book or if it was because the book was letting him.

"What does it look like I'm doing," he looked up and then away, he wondered if seeing her face again would ever stop hurting. "I'm looking for a way to free stone cold Paige over there."

"Step away," she ordered, glaring at him and he was forced to look up at her again.

"Oh please, like I haven't looked in this before?" he quipped, unable to help himself. He'd spent many nights in his childhood hidden under his blankets with a flashlight and this book. He knew it probably better than she did. He should have stopped there but, then again, perhaps implying a good connection between them would get him some points. "By the way, you should update your goblins entry. It'll come in handy someday."

"Goblins," Piper looked incredulous and he couldn't help but smile at her, as if sharing an inside joke.

"Yea, trust me. It's gonna get ugly," in his mind's eye he could see the disaster they'd turned the house into when he was ten. He and Wyatt had thought the whole thing hilarious but their neat freak of a mother hadn't shared their opinion. Then he sighed, "Look, obviously you don't trust me. But I touched the book and the book thinks I'm good. Shouldn't you?"

"Well maybe you found a way around that," she looked at the book and then back at him, glaring as if it would make him tell her all his secrets.

"Piper come on," he cajoled, it was so hard to be open and friendly without breaking his heart. "I'm just trying to help."

"Well if that's true." She conceded and the look she gave him wasn't trusting but it wasn't hostile either. "Then how about you tell me how to vanquish the Titans."

"Except," he drew the word out, reluctant to finish the statement. "You can't vanquish them."

"You mean not without the Power of Three," she nodded her head as if it was the expected response and his mouth quirked into something that wanted to be a smile.

"Maybe not even with that." He replied bursting her bubble of faith in her family heritage. The wide-eyed look she gave him was expected. The Power of Three had always been the girls go to strategy. It was something he'd always wished he'd had the luxury of, "The only way the Elders could stop them three thousand years ago was by infusing some mortals with a hell of a lot of power. Way more than you guys have."

"So they can do that again," it was a statement but the way she said it was more of a question.

"Not after what happened last time," he shook his head with an uneasy smile. It was surreal to be the one with all the information, the one teaching. "The power went to their heads. They declared themselves gods and demanded the world worship them. The Elders swore they would never allow that to happen again."

"Hang on a second, I'm having a ninth grade flashback," she said looking off into space and missing the way everything about him softened. The tone, the gestures, the wit. This was the mother he'd loved, "You're talking about the Greek gods. Zeus, Athena, Aphrodite. They were mortals?"

"Mythology left that part out, not the only inaccuracy by the way," He knew she wanted to ask more but a dwarf and a leprechaun walked into the room with Phoebe in tow. He knew why she was here. They were planning to enact the rescue plan he knew would work, eventually, just as it had in his timeline. Only she was missing the fairy and potion they would need to finally crack the stone but that would come with time. It was interesting to see the stories he'd heard so many times as a child playing out before him. He smiled fondly as the middle sister walked over to them asking them how their planning was coming along.

"Screwed, possibly," then Piper looked at him again and he wondered what it was going to be this time. "One thing I'm still not clear about. If the Titan's are running around, why are they killing whitelighters?"

"Because they need their orbing power," he replied glad that she was still on a mission and not back to giving him the third degree.

Just as he'd hoped, she made the logical leap from there and ran off to find her husband, leaving him with a confused Phoebe. It was a risk, letting them realize he'd known about this first culling of the Elders before it happened but he saw no other option. Leo needed to be the first back to the heavens in order to release the sister's god powers and become an Elder. If he delayed then Sean, the whitelighter who'd originally done so, would get there first. It had been Bianca's idea and it really was the best way for Chris to start inserting himself into the family and god would Freud have had a field day with him over that thought.

Next Time: God making and jail breaking, all part of a day's work

[thedarkfuture]

Summary: When the war first started Chris Halliwell had a hope, no matter how small, that he could somehow win it. That was almost a decade ago. Now the only chance left is his desperate plan to travel into the past. A place where his family is less than helpful and shadows from the future are racing to catch up with him. S6 from Chris’s perspective. Canon divergence after 6x15.

FF.net

AO3

Chapter 2 Leaders of the End

Freya watched him with a calculating eye as he effortlessly defeated the best of her current recruits and even a few members of her elite guard. All without using his magic. Several years of formal lessons, months of training with his brother, further training with the surviving Valkyrie, and finally Bianca had turned him into a nearly unstoppable weapon should he choose to be. In constant motion he was like the wind as he moved around and through his opponents with a seemingly effortless grace. Something he'd earned over a decade of blood, sweat, and constant practice. All while having the telekinetic skill to control multiple projectiles as he fought hand to hand at the same time.

His Valkyrie trainer, Rivan, had once commented that if it wasn’t for Wyatt he easily would’ve been the strongest warrior in any realm. At the time he'd found the statement disconcerting to say the least but she’d been right.  His brother’s top advisor, the Old One Azulon, had even called him a ‘Whirlwind of Death’ when he'd unknowingly met him on the battlefield. It was a description that had stuck, much to his horror, and ‘Whirlwind’ had become his call sign among the Resistance. A name whispered in fear among Wyatt's legions. The only name the Resistance Leader had to the public for the first few years of Wyatt's reign. It haunted him. What he was forced to become and do to save what was left of everything he held dear, from the brother he’d once loved so completely.

“Enough,” Freya called, her soft but commanding voice carrying over the din of combat easily. “You pass, Christopher. It’s clear you weren’t just an ally but also trained by us.”

Chris bit his tongue to stop a caustic remark from leaving his lips and stood from a defensive crouch to bow respectfully to her. He'd have thought the medallion given to him by the last of the Valkyrie would be enough, but no, of course not. Why would anything ever be that simple for him? He wanted to sneer at the injustices of his life but controlled the urge. As his second, Brandon, always said, no matter what never insult a Valkyrie, particularly one whose help you wanted.

“Yes,” he nodded his head sharply, standing in the at ease stance his men often used in his presence. “And I've led what's left of your warriors into battle many times.”

Freya's head tilted and she took note of the things he wasn’t saying. He was letting her know he was the one that made the rules in his time; without giving her the how or why in front of those that wouldn’t understand the price of that knowledge. “I see, come, we shall talk.”

Her command given, she walked away, gesturing her followers to stay behind and led him back toward her palace. He was thankful that as the leader of a trans-dimensional pocket reality she had a basic understanding of the delicacies of time travel by virtue of her station. It significantly cut down on the time he would have to spend convincing her to see things his way. The fact that Rivan had given him pointers on how to approach the seemingly calm but quick to anger Queen, were just bonuses.   

“Tell me Christopher, why should I help you with this endeavor?” She asked walking forward to gracefully drape herself across her throne. The room he stood at the center of was large and of a similar design to the arena, only with less cages and more curtains and cushions. “You say your mission is to prevent the Final Battle. I thought you understood what it is we do here.”

“Only it’s not the Final Battle,” He said after a pause, opting for at least part of the truth. There were somethings he could tell her without breaking time irrevocably. Her people had a non-interference policy after all, “Before you died you told me something was wrong, that it shouldn’t be happening like this. I didn’t get it then but I do now. Something got screwed up, so now I’m here to play temporal handyman.”

Freya relaxed back into the throne, her green-gray eyes thoughtful, “Which explains why you lead my soldiers. I would leave them in the capable hands of one such as you, even considering you are a man. You’ve made a lot of difficult choices Christopher. I can see that in your eyes, you know the cost of war.”

Chris let a fraction of his history into his expression, “more than anyone has a right to and still less than some.”

She tapped a finger on the armrest of her seat then sat up straighter, her decision apparently made, “As you well know we have a mandate of non-interference. As such the help I can offer you is limited. However, I’ll grant you what little assistance I can.”

“You won’t even have to leave Valhalla,” he smirked and her interest was piqued, “all I need is for you to hold someone powerful for me, just for a while. They’re in the way but I can’t kill them without…well, without erasing my existence. They play a pretty big part in that.”

Freya pursed her lips but she nodded her head in acceptance, “We’ll hold them but it must be asked, are you entirely sure it’s wise to play with the fate of one so intrinsic to your own?”

"No," Chris folded his arms and frowned, his shoulders sagging like a weight had been placed upon them. He hadn’t been able to get any rest since his trip back and it was getting to him. This time was so different from his own where he’d been too tired to do anything other than pass out for a few quick hours. Here he actually dreamed and that was never a good thing. “Honesty, I think it’s a stupid idea but I don’t have a choice. I need to be the Charmed Ones whitelighter, and for that I need the current one, Leo, out of the way.”

“The Charmed Ones?” Freya raised an eyebrow as she sat forward. Chris wanted to smack his forehead against a wall, repeatedly. That was the kind of slip that couldn’t happen in front of the sisters, ever. He was better than this, keeping secrets wasn’t new for him. He just had to get used to keeping different ones. He couldn’t afford to get comfortable around people he’d know someday, “I’ve heard of them, they’re great warriors against the forces of evil. It's them you're after?”

“No, not technically,” He rubbed the bridge of his nose as a headache started to form behind his eyes. “Look, there’s something after the kid and if he doesn’t make it the world won’t. It’s why I need to be close, to protect him.”  

“You sound as if you’re not sure what it is you’re trying to do,” Freya said becoming increasingly troubled by the situation and he gave her an exasperated look. Something she returned in full, “I understand you can’t say much, but I also understand war. I want to know the situation I’ll be putting my people in.”

“Fair enough,” Chris conceded with a deeper sigh this time and if this last effort failed, they might be a good backup plan. Surely they’d be willing to do what he wasn't sure he ever could. “The kid, Wyatt, something's going to happen to him soon and it turns him. In my time he’s…well let’s just say he’s caused a lot of trouble. If I can stop him from turning, I can stop that future.”

The Queen watched him silently before she stood and walked to the balcony behind the throne to look out at Valhalla. It was a while before she spoke, long enough that he started to become nervous, “You’re an honorable man Christopher Perry. Most would simply kill the child in question before he became a threat. Yet, you chose the harder road of saving him as well. Send us this Leo and we will make sure to keep him as long as needed.”

Chris bowed low and respectfully, even though she couldn’t see it, relief making his body feel light. “Thank you for your assistance Lady Freya.”

“Talk to Mist outside, she will give you a room where you can rest.” She said and turned back to him, a kind smile on her face. “Fear no dreams, we let not the memories of strife or sorrow haunt our warriors here. They’ve earned that much respite and now so have you.”

The offer surprised him but he knew better than to decline hospitality on the rare occasions when it was given to him. So he thanked her again and left the Queen to think and plan alone. Only to run into the pretty blonde who he assumed was Mist outside the door. He could tell from the way she acted as she led him to his room that she found him attractive. He saw an opportunity in that so, as much as it pained him, he flirted with her. He needed allies outside of Freya here if this was going to work and Mist was high ranking enough that she would do. She seemed to enjoy the attentions anyway, and gave him a seductive smile before leaving him at his door. He watched her go feeling disgusted with himself then turned back into the room, making a sound that was something between a sigh and a chuckle. The room was spartanly decorated but that was fine by him because the bed was comfortable and he quickly fell into the first sound sleep he’d had in weeks. A powerful feeling of energy and family carrying him off into happier memories as his amulet thrummed gently against the skin of his chest.

0ooo0ooo0ooo0

Chris stirred the sauce he’d thrown together for his chicken, checked the potatoes, and made sure the asparagus was sautéing well. Dinner taken care of for the time being he put the pans he was done with in the sink. It was easy to lose himself in the monotony of cleaning and the comfort he found in cooking. He was so focused on his work that he completely missed the sound of the front door opening and Wyatt walking in from the dining room. The older boy was home early and had been drawn to the room by the fantastic smells. The sounds he may have missed but his brother’s reflection in the window above the sink he didn’t. Especially when he stood there surveying the scene before him with raised eyebrows.

He knew what his brother was seeing, all the signs littered around him. How clean the room was, the freshly baked cookies on the counter, and dinner for at least three people almost done. All this when the brunette knew his brother and father wouldn’t be home for it. These were habits he'd picked up from their mother and ones he hadn't indulged in since her death a year ago. So it wasn't a surprise to him when his brother’s shoulders heaved in a sigh before he headed to the counter. Apparently he wanted to steal a cookie before he made his presence known.

“You’re not seriously going to eat that when dinner's almost ready?” Chris asked into the silence making the other boy jump. He spun on his heel to glare with his arms folded, uncaring about how the action wet his shirt. Wyatt paused in shocked, with his hand hovering over the plate, unsure how the little brother who’d had a steel wall blocking their link for days had known he was there.

“Geez, sorry, I didn’t realize you’d joined the ranks of the nutrition police,” He said with a dramatic pout and Chris watched his brother playfully dart his eyes back and forth between the cookie and himself. Like he was calculating his chances of snatching a treat and running. Chris’s urge to smile was minimal as the teasing side of his older brother made one of its increasingly rare appearances. Instead he just rolled his eyes, exasperated, before he grabbed the plate and put it on a counter behind him with an ‘after dinner Wyatt’. If he had to deal with the third degree then his brother wasn't going to get to eat a cookie while doing it. In reaction he could feel the weight of his brother’s stare increase tenfold on his shoulders, “what’s wrong Chris?”

“Nothing,” he said giving his brother a bright smile. The responding look he received was flat and he knew he wasn’t getting out of this without some kind of explanation.

Dammit, why did he have to come home now? Why couldn’t he have waited a few hours? Chris could have lied and said he’d cooked for some friends, they didn’t set off the wards placed around the house. Then Wyatt would have been none the wiser, because he couldn’t tell him the real reason. He couldn’t tell him that the blonde’s increasingly secretive behavior was starting to bug the hell out of him. To the point that he was on the verge of actually following his brother one of the nights he disappeared. How could he tell him he’d lost that much faith in the last person he should be able to trust completely? What if he was wrong? What if it really was nothing and he was just being paranoid? He knew after their last dust up a month ago any conversations between them like that would end badly. He didn’t want to lose his brother and it felt like that was happening no matter what he did.

“Ah uh, that's why you did all of this in a kitchen you haven’t worked in, in months. Why you’ve been blocking me for days?” Wyatt asked his questions more as statements than anything as he walked around the island to lean on it.

He wasn’t close enough to crowd, but it was close enough to let Chris know he couldn't avoid the conversation. His brother was even testing the mental barriers he'd put up, looking for something that would tell him what was upsetting the younger boy. It set Chris on edge and he crouched to pull the chicken out of the oven so that he didn't snap. He needed to give a little because he didn’t want his brother in his head right now.

“No seriously Wy,” He said grasping for a plausible reason for his behavior outside of the truth. It wasn't that hard. He'd become famous over the last year for what his family diplomatically called his 'mood swings'. “I’ve just been down, didn’t want to bring you with me…there isn’t even a reason for it.”

“Considering what next week is, I think I can figure that out for you,” Wyatt said lowly after a beat of silence. The sadness in his eyes made Chris feel horrible for invoking that memory to get himself out of trouble. Then his brother ruffled his hair affectionately. “I guess I’ve gone from one extreme to the other with you haven’t I? Damn, I used to be so good at the big brother thing before…well everything.”

“Oh, you’re just fine at the big brother thing,” Chris grumbled as he patted down his now mussed hair and scowled at the blonde, who watched him with dancing blue eyes. He was not a dog and he hated to have his head rubbed like one. Wyatt knew that, it was why he did it in the first place. It was an offense that couldn't go unpunished. So he thought of an idea that would not only distract his brother but pay him back as well. “Believe me - hey Wy, could you get that spatula over there? I washed too soon.”

“Sure thing bro,” He smiled as he clapped Chris on the back and walked over to the sink. Only to be hit full in the face with a wave of dirty water. The room was nearly silent as the blonde stood there frozen, dripping dirty water on the floor. Finally Chris couldn’t help himself and he almost bent double as he laughed. In reaction to his mirth their bond cracked open and the feeling of happiness doubled as it rebounded back and forth between them. He was still gasping for breath when he looked back up to find his brother trying to glare imposingly at him with the sink hose in hand. “You're dead. I hope you know that.”

What followed was part water and part food fight that put all their past efforts in that area to shame. It left the room wrecked and them filthy as they laughed on the floor. Wyatt had always been the better fighter and it didn't take him long to put Chris in an inescapable headlock. Not that it stopped the younger boy who refused to admit defeat as his brother dramatically told him to surrender. He may not be the best fighter but he was scrappy and determined. It was the scene their Aunt Paige orbed into, having stopped by to look at the book for something and while she’d reprimand them for the destruction, even she couldn’t keep a straight face. It had been good to see her teenage nephews actually acting like teenage boys again.

0ooo0ooo0ooo0

Chris woke slowly and gazed blankly out of the archway on the wall across from his bed. It opened onto what looked like a stone balcony that overhung a small garden. It was a relaxing aesthetic choice if nothing else and with a loud groan he pushed his heavy body up and stretched. He could tell from the angle of the light outside, and the feeling of his body, that he’d slept a lot. Very likely an entire day if not more.

The sigh that escaped him ruffled his hair and he stood to start his post wake up routine. It was an old habit that stemmed from his early years of martial arts training, back when he’d first realized he needed to work twice as hard to even keep up with Wyatt. Now it was something to keep himself in peak condition and he lost himself in the familiar movements. It allowed his mind to wander and he was able to stuff the memory back into its mental compartment where it belonged. Memories like that were the reason he was so thoroughly convinced his brother could be saved. That he wasn’t inherently evil as so many liked to believe. They were why he’d fought him for so long. Why he’d tried so hard with his version before finally realizing there was no hope in that time.

A simple hour’s workout later he was wide awake and only slightly sweaty, as he got ready to face the world again. He grabbed his shirt and paused before bringing it to his nose and the smell made him grimace. His workout had brought another issue to the forefront of his mind, namely that he needed a shower and definitely a haircut. His hair hadn’t been this long since he was fifteen and it made him uncomfortable. He knew to most it sounded strange but to him having short hair symbolized freedom. That and he hadn’t wanted another thing tying him to the older brother people despised and always seemed to see at first glance. He was the leader of the Resistance, he couldn't afford to have the people under his command questioning his loyalty. He'd learned early on that perception was most of that battle.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” Mist said catching him as he walked out of his room in search of something to eat. He gave her his best charming smile and she blushed, “Freya sent me to fetch you. She sensed you’d awakened sometime ago and thought you might need food. You've been asleep for a day and a half you know?”

"Really?" he wasn't all that surprised, he’d needed it. The extra rest would help in the months to come. He doubted he'd be getting much downtime once he met the sisters. "I guess it was only a matter of time before I crashed."

Mist tilted her head as she led him through the corridors, "Is it common that you push yourself until your body forces you to sleep for days."

"More than I'd like it to be," Chris replied airily. His tone gently ending the conversation, as they rounded a bend in the corridor and walked into a large gallery room full of tables. It was an impressive space but what really caught and held his attention was the long bar full of food along the left wall. Much of it he hadn't seen since before he'd been his brother's captive.

The sight made his previously patient stomach grumble loudly as it reminded him that he hadn't eaten in over two days. Without further prompting he quickly filled a plate high with everything he remembered that tasted amazing and ate with gusto. That wasn't to say that Chris or the Resistance lacked food or that their people ate poorly. In the beginning it was true they’d scraped by on scavenged resources and many had gone to bed hungry days in a row as they built the Network but those days were over. After seven years their basic refugees ate better than most of Wyatt's top people with food grown on hidden farms in the most remote places on Earth. Helped along by the nymphs and nature spirits that had sought asylum with him over the years. Only the climates they were forced to set up in put a limit on what they could grow or the animals they could raise.

"I see the food meets your approval," Chris's head snapped up and he found Freya's second, Kara, leaning across the table to loom over him. Beside her, Mist looked back and forth between them, her expression wary.

She was a beautiful woman, with bright blue eyes and wild brunette hair but she also had an aura about her. It demanded respect. That combined with her combat ready physique, made it obvious why she held the position she did. Though the current look in her eyes brought back memories of how big a pain in the ass she'd been after the Valkyrie joined their ranks. She'd been upset, incensed actually, that Freya had put him in charge before her death. As a result she'd questioned his every order and it took him months of frustration to win her over. Now she sat on the Resistance council where she was one of his top allies and an invaluable source of military strategy. She'd even engineered the ‘Great Stadium Liberation’. The hugely successful attack three years into Wyatt's rule that had announced their existence in the world and where he'd spoken to his brother again for the first time since the weeks after his rise to power.  

"Kara!" He cried smiling at the woman, deciding to try light and friendly. He knew it would throw her off to be addressed with so much camaraderie. "Great to see you, or, I guess, it's great to meet this version of you."

"You know me?" She asked standing up straighter and he chuckled.

"Yes, you’re uh...well let's just say you and I work – will work together. I can always count on you for a good idea when I need one," He responded and then he gestured eagerly to the food across the room. "Have you eaten? If not you should get something and sit with us. You can tell me all about Valhalla. It was already gone by the time we crossed paths and I'm interested."

A deep crease appeared on her forehead and she eyed him before finally walking away to fill a plate. He suppressed a triumphant smile as she sat back down beside Mist, who seemed put out by the intrusion. The rest of the meal he joked good naturedly with the surly woman while inoffensively flirting with his blonde companion. She hadn’t called him out by the end of it so he was reasonably sure he'd won them both over.

"You're exceptionally clever Christopher Perry," Kara said spinning her goblet by its stem once Mist left to take their dishes to the kitchen as ordered. The way she looked at him from across the table made his stomach drop. "I accept that you know me and that we are allies in the future. What I do not accept is that you're trying to manipulate support for your mission out of myself and Mist."

Chris cleared his throat, he should have left well enough alone. It had been a spur of the moment idea, rather than a calculated risk when he'd seen her. One that wasn’t paying out. Now he needed to salvage the situation if he could. In a military setting inter-organization power plays could be dangerous if handled incorrectly and he’d never really mastered the art.

"Yea, ok, I admit I’d like your support. But I know better than to try and trick it out of you.” he winced a little, “You, uh, beat that lesson into me a long time ago. Come on, I'm not really that bad once you get to know me."

"I’ve seen enough to know you're dangerous. That you possess the kind of calculating mind I've only ever seen in those who've grown up on a battlefield," she replied her face giving nothing away about how her observations made her feel. "You're constantly looking for ways to outmaneuver those around you because it’s been essential to your survival to this point. There's also a level of determination about you that I’ve rarely come across. It's in the way you fight and hold yourself. You're the type to achieve your goals no matter the cost. It's a trait I could see myself admiring if we were truly allies but we're not."

Chris had to focus to prevent his jaw from clenching. It was imperative that he kept his face entirely devoid of all emotion as she talked. He knew better than to let her know she'd gotten to him. He may like her but not enough to sacrifice the future for her, "are you going to work against me, Kara?"

His voice was as flat as his face and she was taken aback at the stone wall he presented to her. The lively man from seconds before was now nothing more than a memory. He noted the way her shoulders shifted and leaned back to lessen the power of his threat. It seemed to help, "No, Freya's explanation and the medallion tells me all I need to know about the importance of your mission. But I will be watching. I will speak up if I find your interests and the interests of my people no longer coincide.”

Chris weighed his options and nodded his consent to those terms. It was the best he could hope for under the current circumstances and truth be told her stance wasn’t wrong. His agreement given, Kara stood and walked out of the dining hall without a backwards glance leaving him to plan his next move.

Next Time: Chris has a little chat with Destiny and his family 

A/N: Just a note, Chris fell asleep and had a dream of his brother at the same time Wyatt was having his Wiccaning. Just thought I’d point that out. Also, I know that the whole telepathy between siblings is a pretty common Trope, especially in Charmed fics. However I don’t have it in this story simply for the sake of having it. The reason I put it in this one is because of 5x20 in which the sisters lose one of their senses. By the end of that episode they’re almost able to communicate psychically and likely would have done so given more time. Then Leo said that that underlying bond is why the Charmed Ones were so strong. When building my story I reasoned that Wyatt and Chris, because of their original destiny which you will learn about next chapter, would have been given a similar advantage. However, like everything in the Dark Future circumstances changed things and their current connection is not what it was supposed to be. How and why it was changed will be explained either later in this story or in the sequel I’m already building an outline for. Not sure which yet though.

[thedarkfuture]

Summary: When the war first started Chris Halliwell had a hope, no matter how small, that he could somehow win it. That was almost a decade ago. Now the only chance left is his desperate plan to travel into the past. A place where his family is less than helpful and shadows from the future are racing to catch up with him. S6 from Chris's perspective. Canon divergence after 6x15.

FF.net

AO3

Part 1: The Breath Before Chapter 1 Ghosts

The plan was simple.

He'd follow his family, learn where he was in the timeline, and in the process hopefully gain some immunity to his triggers. It was essential to his plan that he be able to act indifferent to them and for that he needed to wear out his emotional responses to them. This wasn't the future where he was lucky if he got a few hours of 'down time' as he ran for his life or plotted. A place where his survival instincts and responsibilities continuously beat down his emotions; he needed to be prepared for that. Which was why, considering his violent reaction to her, he'd tracked down Phoebe first. All it took was a simple glamour spell and he was lurking around the Mirror as its newest intern.

At first the memories of that day assaulted him with every word she spoke and every time he saw her smile. More than once he'd been forced to lock himself in some kind of closet, fighting a panic attack that wanted to debilitate him; gripping the pendant his cousin, Parker, had given him for comfort just before his trip back. At the center of the pendant sat a Red Aventurine triquetra on a field of Moldavite that was ringed by a disk of Azurite and a silver weave. She'd chosen each of the crystals to amplify his powers while focusing his mind and helping him push through emotional pain. It was more colorful and ostentatious than something he would have normally worn and if the sisters saw it there would be questions, but he couldn't deny that he could feel the power in the crystals working on him. He could feel the vibrations balancing his emotional state as well as amplifying his abilities and focus.

The combination of it, and over a week of constant effort, because he'd survived the real thing and he would survive the memories dammit, resulted in success. He'd even been able to hold a conversation with her about her nephew's 'christening' the next week with only a slight catch in his throat. An event that meant Wyatt was just under three months old and that there was little over a month before the Titans were set to arrive, he needed to work faster.

In this time Paige was completely focused on her craft and that made running into her inconspicuously more difficult. In fact, it took him another week in and of itself to even get close enough to see her let alone talk to her. Again the memories had hit him but they were infinitely less debilitating than the ones of her sister. Yes, they were traumatic, but in a completely different way. She'd broken him out of his months long prison and saved him, trading her life for his freedom in the process. There'd been no blood or mutilated bodies of family members. Just hopeless despair as he was forced to watch her taken captive by a monster, never to be seen again. That difference was important and as a result it took him less time to work though his feelings about her. He was grateful for that small mercy. He didn't have that much time left and he needed to start laying the groundwork for his other plans.

Then came the hardest one.

The one he'd saved for last.

He'd tried to prepare himself for the sight of her. He'd thought about it, dreamed about it even in his Network quarters. Yet nothing could have prepared him for the actual moment he caught sight of her for the first time.

Chris leaned heavily against a tree as he lost the ability to breathe. There she stood alive and well. A young and vibrant version of his mother, with a smile on her lips and sunshine in her hair. She was leaning over the stroller he was sure held his brother and every part of him but his broken heart felt numb. He choked back a sob and completely crumpled against the trunk, slipping to its base, as his legs finally gave out. He'd never been more grateful for sunglasses, as they hide most of the tears that he could feel trailing down his cheeks. She looked so alive, so happy, so like the woman who had raised and loved him and nothing like his last blood soaked memory of her.

0ooo0ooo0ooo0

"Chris? Did you finish – Seriously Christopher? Again?" Piper snapped, her voice less than pleased as she glared down at him. With her hands on her hips like that, not even being covered in flour from tonight's cake could make her less imposing.

Chris had the good sense to look ashamed in the face of his mother's temper and quickly stood to shut off his Playstation. "Sorry mom, but in all fairness it's my birthday. I shouldn't have to clean."

The look she leveled him said more than words ever could, and he quickly started to collect the miscellaneous items scattered around the Conservatory without further argument. "That's what I thought, Mister. It's not officially your birthday until seven and you're going to be fourteen not four. This room better be clean by the time I get back…and no magic. You clean this room the slow way for that attitude."

Chris sighed and gestured dramatically with a toy in each hand like the put upon thirteen, going on fourteen, year old that he was. It was a frequently used gesture that only got an eye roll out of his mother. Chris pouted as she left the room, and then proceeded to grumble to himself about the injustice of being forced to clean on his birthday. Especially when Wyatt got to be god knows where doing god knows what without getting in trouble for not helping.

The thought gave him pause and be bit his lips as he stared at the ball in his hands. Unbeknownst to everyone but himself Wyatt had been sneaking out a lot lately and even though his brother told him not to worry, he couldn't help it. Not when he came home bloody with torn clothing that smelled of smoke, ones that disappeared when he looked for them, or said he was with his friends when Chris knew that he wasn't. Not when the energy he felt off his brother seemed darker and darker as the weeks wore on, though no one but him seemed to notice. Then again, that was them. They'd always known more about each other than other people did.

With a heavy sigh he placed the ball on top of the pile in the plastic tub before moving to scout the room for any more hidden toys. He knew that he couldn't go to his mother about his worries until he had tangible proof. Something that would be the same if Wyatt brought a concern about his little brother's 'recklessness' to her. Not because she didn't trust them, but because she refused to pick favorites in a he said/he said situation. If there was an issue, and you had proof, then she'd deal with it. It was a parenting strategy that had confused and upset their father years ago but she'd quickly silenced his objections. She'd brought up numerous instances in her childhood when she, or her sisters, had lied to get the other in trouble for one reason or another. She'd gone further to point out the times outside the house when Chris had been blamed for something that Wyatt had done. He was always the one blamed when Wyatt did something, even against the objections of the boy himself. She wanted home to be a safe place for both of them and refused to pick between them. He also had to be careful. He didn't want to lose his brother's trust in the process of trying to help him when he clearly needed it.

Now sure that the room was clean, he hefted the container and headed for the stairs. The ease with which he carried the heavy receptacle was only thanks to the forward thinking of Phoebe. She had convinced her sisters that it would be a good idea to start training their kids early in self-defense. Paige and his mother had resisted the idea, to put it mildly. They'd been incensed by the notion that Phoebe wanted to turn their children into 'magical warriors'. Thankfully, mostly because he loved it, she had convinced them that just because they didn't want the kids to fight, didn't mean they wouldn't have to someday. They were the children of the Charmed Ones, the cousin and younger brother of the Twice Blessed. They needed to be prepared and able to defend themselves. Better to have the skills and never have to use them, than need them and not have them. In the end she'd driven the final nail to the proverbial coffin by reminding them how many times they'd almost died because they had no clue what they were doing in the beginning.

That argument had won them over and from that day forward it was two martial arts classes a week at a dojo downtown. Then Saturday mornings spent with his family trying to incorporate his powers into what he'd learned. He loved the work and practicing his powers with people who could handle them, outside the strict rules of magic school. He also got to spend quality time with his brother, something that had happened less and less frequently over the last year. He blamed school and the assignments the Elders had started giving the older boy for that. Especially considering that whenever he did have free time Wyatt generally tried to spend it hanging out with him.

Lost in circular thoughts Chris didn't notice the demon until he was hit in the back with the energy ball. The force of it slammed him head first into and around the archway connecting the main sitting room to the front parlor. The items he carried flew in all directions and he landed hard face down on the floor. The attack left him too stunned in that moment to notice the lack of pain that he should have felt. Then he must have lost time because between one blink and the next his mother's terrified face was before his.

"Oh God! Oh God! No, no, no! Chris! Chris sweetie, can you hear me? Look at me Peanut!" she was frantic and between questions for him that he couldn't seem to answer, she made calls to his father, brother, and aunt.

Anyone and everyone she knew had the ability to heal, but then quickly gave up when he started to cry. The pain finally making itself known in his upper body. She sat back out of his peripheral to pull out her cell phone and he saw a bright flash before she went flying into the parlor and out of his line of sight. Unable to move he could only watch as two black-covered legs walked past him and after her. Even through the clouding of his mind he knew what this was and his breath sped up. His mother was hurt and considering the demon didn't explode in retaliation, most likely unconscious. So he closed his eyes and focused, trying to force his telepathy to do something he wasn't sure it could.

If he could move objects with his mind then he could move his pain ridden arms, if he could lift furniture with the twitch of a Pinky he could move his numb and uncooperative legs. In this way he was able to force himself into a sitting position like a puppeteer pulling on strings. The action went unnoticed by the demon who had its back to him and just as it was about to drop an energy ball on his wounded mother, he threw his hand up with a scream. His powers focused, he squeezed his fist, and the demon grabbed its throat in reaction.

Before this moment Chris had never even conceived of his powers being used in such a way. He wasn't even sure what made him think of it now, but he did and he squeezed harder. The strength of his hold forced the choking demon backward. The creature backpedaled straight into the dislodged hallway rug where his foot caught and it fell to the floor. The ball of energy it'd created following it down where it was hit and destroyed. As the demon erupted into flames Chris's strength gave out and he fell forward to the floor again, banging his head hard against the blood slicked wood.

He'd never felt this helpless before in his life.

"Leo!" His mother gasped her mantra finally continuing a few feet from him. He wasn't sure when she'd woken but she seemed unable to move as well. "Wyatt! Paige!"

His ears were ringing and his vision was crowded by black around the edges, but even so he refused to give into oblivion. He couldn't, his mother was hurt and fading faster than he was, he could feel it. He needed to push. He needed to be strong like his brother. Wyatt never would have let this happen. Wyatt would have already been up and tending to their mother if he was here. He knew he wasn't Wyatt but right now he needed to be; because the alternative was that she was going to die and that wasn't an option.

His progress was slow as he dragged himself through the blood and debris to her, injuring himself worse on the broken glass and wood as he crawled. His voice joining her weakening one in calls for their family. Still no one came. Why was no one coming? Surely they realized they weren't being called for fun by now. Finally, taking far too long, he got to her. Her eyes were glassy and her voice was barely a whisper but even so she seemed to see him.

"Peanut," she rasped and his body gave out as he collapsed against her blood soaked chest, that tenuous parental bond between them fraying to the point of breaking. The last of her strength used to place her hand on his head. "I love you swee-e-theeart."

Then she was gone.

She was gone and he stopped calling to everyone but Wyatt as the world faded to black and what sounded like a concussive explosion rang in his ears.

0ooo0ooo0ooo0

It was hours later, when he was healed and rested, that Chris learned what had happened. A ward. The demons that attacked them had been testing a new design being developed in the underworld. Its purpose was to block the psychic connection between victims and their families or whitelighters until the moment of death. That meant no one had known anything was wrong. At least not until Wyatt had felt the connection with his mother snap so abruptly, being sent to his knees in the process. The pain had brought his brother running home and to his utter fury, he found the house shielded and inaccessible. Paige, who'd also felt the break along with the rest of the family, told him she'd gotten to the house just in time to see his brother rip the spells apart like tissue paper, his magic swirling around him like a living thing. She'd never seen him so angry or so broken when they were found. His mother already gone and him seconds away from the same fate. Saved just in time by the brother, who could now hear his little brothers desperate cries fading quickly from his mind.

Chris took a deep shuddering breath as he stared at the grass before him, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. After that their father had 'moved in' so to speak. The Manor was just too small for a combination of the remaining families and they didn't want to lose the house. Leo told the aunts he'd made a deal with the Elders and for the first few months he was around most of the time. Yet, just as Chris had known would happen, he started coming home less and less until the boys only saw him once a week if they were lucky. It was something they never brought up to anyone else. If their father happened to be away when someone came over it was always 'you just missed him' or 'he'll be home later', not that it mattered. They had each other and that was all either of them needed, at least that's what Chris had told himself at the time.

To say his brother became overprotective during this time would have been an understatement. Something that only got worse the more Leo pulled away from them. Wyatt came to believe, because it was just the two of them and Chris was still so broken, that he needed to be a parent not just a brother. In the years since he'd come to realize it was his brother's way of coping. Whenever things got tough Wyatt focused on his little brother instead of his own feelings. It wasn't healthy but from his earliest memories he knew the older boy had always done it. Somehow in the giant mess that was their lives Chris had become his brother's emotional security blanket. As long as Chris was with him safe and happy then Wyatt could weather any storm, he was stable. It was only after their mother's death that his personality quirk became an obsession that just got worse with time.

Wyatt never left him alone, unless forced to by the Elders for training and it started to concern the fourteen year old. In the beginning he hadn't minded, comforted by the strong presence of his brother, happy almost, that they got to spend so much time together. Wyatt had even given him a protection amulet that, at first, he hadn't realized let his brother know where he was at all times. Once he figured that out, however, Chris had stopped wearing it regularly and the older boy had been enraged. Those fights had been brutal and the worst of them had taken place a month before the 'Events' one year mark. When he'd reached his breaking point with his brother's smothering.

Chris had decided he wanted an ice cream and was heading out to get one by himself. Truthfully he'd wanted to be by himself more than anything else. Only Wyatt was there popping out of the parlor saying he'd like to come and Chris had snapped. He couldn't take it anymore, his brother was everywhere he was. He was 'Helicopter Wyatt'. Always there and hovering on the peripherals of his vision. Just the previous week he'd been in the park with some friends and off in the distance there was his brother. He'd been standing by a tree talking to a suited dark-haired someone, but still watching him, always watching him.

At the time, he'd made sure to clarify that he did appreciate the effort. That he knew where it was coming from but that his brother needed to calm down. He was being suffocated. For a brief moment after his tirade the blonde had just stared at him blankly. There was an emotion in his eyes that Chris couldn't name and a feeling raced through their connection that confused and almost frightened him. Then the moment was over and Wyatt sighed before rubbing the back of his head. He'd conceded that he might have gone a bit overboard, letting his fears get the better of him and they'd spent the rest of the afternoon talking the situation out. After that his brother had started actively living his own life again and letting Chris live his.

Chris's mouth quirked before looking back at his mother and the infant version of his brother, he was sure Wyatt always regretted giving him that freedom.

Next Time: Chris lays the ground work for his plans and boys are boys.