Fic: In His Shadow
Fic for
occhallenge
Title: In His Shadow
Prompt: Table 1: Tall
Fandom: Charmed
Characters: Lena (OFC claim), Chris, Wyatt
Summary: (Changed future, AU as of season 7.) She knows what's wrong with him now, but even if they can fix it, there's no way that things can ever be the way they were before.
Lena feels herself falling asleep, and for the first time in days does not try to stop herself from going under. As her breathing evens out the darkness behind her eyes is transformed into a dreamscape, but one that is foreign to her. She stands before a stone altar at the edge of a cliff. The ground is rocky and jagged, and rises up sharply just beyond the edge of the altar. She peers over the edge of the cliff and sees flames rising up, trying in vain to reach her. She draws back sharply and then notices someone in the shadows surrounding her. Chris is leaning against an expanse of rock, smiling at her. “I was wondering when you would get here,” he says lightly, standing up straight and approaching her.
“You created this?” she asks, motioning to their surroundings, unsure of how to react.
“It makes me feel right at home,” he shrugs, his eyes burning for a moment before shifting back to Chris’ calm sea-green color. “Why? You don’t like it? You of all people?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You like fire, don’t you? You use it all of the time anyway…” He stares idly at his nails, waiting for her response.
“What is it that you want?” she finally asks, keeping the altar between them.
“Oh come on little cousin, don’t be like that,” he smiles, pushing a lock of brown hair out of his eyes as he rounds the altar to approach her. “Why shouldn’t I want to spend some quality time with you, Laney?”
“Don’t - don’t call me that,” she says, keeping her distance from him. “You’re not Chris.”
“But I am him - in a manner of speaking anyway. But of course you’ve already figured that out.”
She bites her lip. “I know what you really are.”
“Of course you do.” His eyes burn again and he suddenly closes the distance between them in a moment, standing inches from her. “You should be on your knees before me, my dear, head bowed and in awe. Not many witches are allowed to converse with the Source of all Evil, after all.”
“All I’m going to do is vanquish you,” she whispers, her quavering voice betraying her fear. If she had been awake, if they had been truly face to face then perhaps she could have kept up pretenses, but she does not have that level of control inside of her mind, inside of a dream.
“You’re so predictable, Lena,” he laughs, and she winces and looks away, because he sounds like Chris and she has to keep reminding herself that he’s not.
“Look at me,” he orders, drawing up against her, putting one hand around her waist and with the other lifting her chin. She stares up at him, and he just appears to loom over her. She has never noticed how tall Chris is before, never been in the position where he would use his height against her like this. She feels small and insignificant beneath his larger form, and Chris’ face breaks into a grin again, the likes of which she has never seen on his face before. “I’m glad that you’re frightened, you should be. Fear is important isn’t it? Tell me what frightens you the most, Lena.”
“If you’re really in Chris’ head then I think you already know.”
Chris smirks. “Aw, you’re afraid of losing the people you love, especially by them turning evil. How sweet. What a selfless fear. Did you know most people are afraid of death? Irrational, isn’t it? But then again you know better, you know that something comes after.”
“Is there a point to this discussion?” she questions him, frustrated by the dialogue.
“I’m just enjoying this lovely mental link you and Christopher share. It makes me wonder what I could do with it, other than listening in on everything you say, intruding upon your dreams, and more or less haunting you every hour of the day. On the plus side, you’ll definitely never be alone again.”
“What do you want with me?” she yells, trying to pull away from him, but his grip on her is too strong.
“You’re fiery, I like that. Your mother was like that too. Those were fun times, possessing Balthazar and marrying a Halliwell, some of my best work. Not that this isn’t good too. I didn’t even realize ahead of time that by latching on to Christopher I would have unlimited access to your head as well. It’s quite the deal there darling, two for the price of one, and just like that, any hope for a new and improved Power of Three will crumble!”
“You sure like to hear yourself talk.”
“What can I say, Lena, it’s been too long since I was able to.” He pauses for a moment, drawing her closer. She tries to push him away but she’s frozen, and she finally understands what’s happening. Chris might not be telepathic, but the Source is, and he’s in control of the dream, to some extent even in control of her within the dream. She shudders and presses with her mind against his but to no avail. He smiles, leaning down so that his eyes are nearly level with hers. When he speaks again she can feel his breath on her face. “You know, I was hoping to become one with your other cousin, Wyatt. Now there’s some power. But maybe this is better. See, I think you Halliwells are all essentially the same, and nothing will break Wyatt like his darling brother becoming the Source. I just don’t think he’ll have it in him to kill his baby brother. What do you think?”
“I think you’d be surprised by what Wyatt is capable of,” she whispers, voice hard. She forces her mind to remain blank, doesn’t want her nightmares of the other Wyatt suddenly laid out for the Source to see and use against them.
“Ooh looks like Laney knows a secret she isn’t willing to share with the class,” he laughs. “Doesn’t matter. We’re connected, you and I, so I’ll know eventually.” He dips his head toward hers, and she trembles under his hands.
“Leave… just leave…” she chokes out as his lips ghost over her cheekbone.
“Sure, okay. But I’ll be back.” He pauses then, and slides the hand on her waist up to her neck. “Something to remember me by my dear,” he whispers in her ear and at the same time she feels the hand on the back of her neck begin to burn. She tries to pull away, letting out a cry of pain, but he holds firmly, bending his forehead to touch hers. He moves then, puts his mouth against the groove where her shoulder and neck meet and bites down, hard enough to draw blood. “And that was for me,” he smirks. She stares up at him as he stands to full height again, spine straight, looming over her once more. Then all at once he’s gone.
The dreamscape evaporates with him and Lena hears someone calling her name in the distance.
She jerks awake, breathing heavily. “Hey, you okay?” Wyatt asks, kneeling next to the chair she had fallen asleep in.
“Yeah… yeah… sorry,” she says, running a hand over her face, trying to calm her breathing.
“Here,” Wyatt says, holding a hand out to help her up. He stands then, towers over her, and without meaning to, Lena shrinks back in the chair. Wyatt freezes, confused at her reaction. She shakes her head and scrambles out of the room.
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In the safe confines of the bathroom she stares at her frightened expression in the mirror, willing herself to calm down. Without really wanting to see it, but needing to know if it’s there, she pulls back the neck on her sweater, reveals a bite mark on the tanned skin of her shoulder. She shudders and pushes the shirt over it. Then, with some trepidation, she turns and lifts her hair off of her neck. It takes some adjusting to actually see, but there’s a bright red mark on the back of her neck. She wants to cry as she sees it, huge and expansive, Chris’ hand burned into her skin.
There’s a knock at the door and she hastily lowers her hair again. “Lena, you okay in there?” Wyatt asks from the other side. She remembers what she said in the dream, I think you’d be surprised by what Wyatt is capable of, and shakes her head, trying not to think of her cousins in such a bad light, tries to think of them as playful and harmless like she used to. But she remembers Wyatt standing over her, “You’ll learn to never defy me again” and even if it wasn’t her Wyatt, sometimes she can see that violence inside of him. And now, Chris is possessed by the Source, and she feels so helpless to stop him that all she wants to do is cry.
Instead, she takes a deep breath and opens the door. Wyatt immediately heads towards her, looking worried, and she holds her arm out to stop him. “Just… don’t stand so close… okay?” she asks, feeling ashamed. He nods, swallowing hard as she walks by him. He follows her back up to the attic and slouches in the corner as she opens the Book of Shadows. She senses Wyatt’s irritation, frustration, grief, and rage all too clearly, but she pushes it away. She focuses on Chris instead, on the small glimmer of Chris she felt within the Source, frightened and in pain and screaming for release. She’s revitalized by her need to save Chris, and dives back into the research, clearing her mind of all other thoughts.
“That’s right baby, find your answer, and when you do, I’ll be right here listening, ready to sabotage whatever you have planned,” Chris’ voice whispers in her mind.
Lena flinches at the sound and Wyatt leans forward in his chair, but she shakes off her surprise. She closes her eyes for a moment, clenches her fists, and tries her hardest not to scream or cry or rage. “You take point, Wyatt,” she finally says, turning and leaving the attic.
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Lena walks until her feet and legs finally protest the movement and she finally slumps down on some nondescript street corner, leaning against a brick building with her knees pulled up to her chest. She closes her eyes and thinks back to before this, before Chris disappeared and even further than that, before Chris started changing, before everything about him became wrong. She remembers what it felt like to have him standing next to her, tall and strong and supportive, and she wonders if life will ever be like again. Even if they somehow save Chris will she ever be able to look him in the eye again? Ever be able to stand beside him without wanting to shrink away?
She touches the burn on the back of her neck and winces, knowing that no matter what happens, nothing can ever be the same again.