"People ask me what turned me. My parents did. They were so busy with my brother that they began to hate the very sight of me. No matter what I did, he was not at fault, and I 'should remember that he loves me.' I don't really care why Chris went back to save me. My dad told me that the older Chris died trying to keep me from turning 'bad,' as they call it. The little brother I had didn't die for me. He was just a pest. My parents saw it differently. They let Chris slack off in school. I had perfect grades, and they still had tutors for each class come over every day. Most boys were in school 7 hours, I had a 20 hour school day. My parents pushed me so hard. I decided I was going to be whomever I wanted to be."
I looked down at my 4-year-old son's pleading eyes. How could I say no? So, I put him up on my shoulders and ran around the house on the way up to put him and Wyatt down to bed. Wyatt loves orbing around the house, and usually beats us to their bedroom. I am so proud of him. Chris hasn't mastered orbing yet, so we have our own bedtime ritual.
"In to bed, to bed, I said, to bed!" I told them. Chris laughed hard at the 'Big Bad Wolf' voice. Wyatt smiled lightly, watching us. "Good night Chris."
"G'night Daddy!" my little son hugged me very tight. "I love you."
"I love you, too son." I tucked him in, and moved over to Wyatt's bed. "Hi, son."
"Hi dad," he said softly.
"You're getting really good with orbing. I mean you were always very talented, but lately, leaps and bounds above most people my age, let alone a 6 year old. Wyatt, you have a gift. You are a very special boy."
"I know. You tell me every night." I kissed his head, and tucked him in. I can't believe he's getting so big. "I wish I was a little more normal, and a little less special."
"Listen, Wyatt, tomorrow I'm going to leave Chris with your mom and aunts. How would you like to see a movie?"
"Sure," he said, perking up. "How about the new Harry Potter movie?"
"Wyatt, do you see how you are like Harry?"
"I can do better magic than he can. I don't even need a wand." I chuckled.
"No, you don't need a wand. I mean, he has more powers than he knows what to do with. He's 15 years old and still learning the basics compared to what he's capable of. You're a lot like Harry. One day, you'll see how special that is."
"Am I like Harry, too, Daddy?"
"No, Chris. You're more like Ron; talented and very funny." Chris giggled and hid under his blankets. "Okay, go to bed, boys. Love you."
"Love you, too, Dad."
"Love you, Daddy."
"Hey Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think tomorrow I could have the shoulder ride up to bed?" Now, when you are raising two boys, one who grows up to be the most powerful being in history, and the other a sweet boy who you know will hate you later because his future self told you that he needed more attention growing up, things like that make you question everything as a father.
"How about from now on, we take turns? At least until my back breaks?"
"Thanks, Dad." I turned the light off and left.
Perhaps I was devoting more attention to Chris. I can't help it. I watched him die, for Christ's sake! I sat there, while my little boy was dying, and I couldn't do anything. Every time I look at Little Chris, I see him older, lying on the bed, and I can feel his breathing stop. I feel his death. I try so hard to give equal attention to both boys, but things happen. Deamons are still on the loose, Piper needs me, Phoebe needs me, Paige needs me. I spend most of my day orbing all over San Fransisco healing people. There's a demon war going on. The entire magical rhelm is fighting, and its hard to keep the innocent people from knowing or getting hurt.
I spend 15 minutes a day with my boys; I orb in, kiss Piper, pick up Chris and race Wyatt up stairs. And then I rest for an hour or so.
I never should have left Piper for the elders. Being a white-lighter with a baby was difficult enough. Now I'm an Elder, who's killed an elder, has 2 young children, and a very angry ex-wife. I wish I could take it back, for Wyatt. He wouldn't be so angry at me all the time if I was there. Chris is still little and is just happy to see me. Okay, so from now on, focus more on Wyatt. Be more equal. I can do that in the spread of 15 minutes a day.
I want to come home.
"I was just 6! I was a CHILD! Why would someone put all that on an innocent boy!'You are going to be the most powerful being.' I didn't care about what my stupid abilities were! I just wanted my father to love me! He loved Chris so much, but I was 'too special' to let any power go to waste. Always studying. Always being pushed to do good. My parents were always disappointed in me."
"Wyatt Matthew Halliwell!" I yelled. My oldest child orbed in. He was dressed in black, had yet another new piercing, and had his long hair in his face. "Wyatt, you were supposed to be home right after your last class at Magic school. Michael has been waiting."
"Dad, for crying out loud, I don't need tutoring. I have perfect scores in every subject! I would have skipped 3 levels, had you and mom allowed it."
"You aren't skipping anything. Every bit of information those teachers can give you is important." Wyatt rolled his eyes at me. My little boy, now 17, seemed to hate everything about school. He is too smart and too talented to waste time. I noticed Chris sitting down at the table with a large pile of books. He looked very tired. "Please Wyatt?"
"Send Chris to the tutor. He needs the help. Badly." I couldn't even look at my younger son. Now that he was older, he looks more and more like the adult I watched die. I still carried the guilt of leaving him alone.
"I do," Chris said. "I'm really getting in trouble in school. I am so lost in most of my classes." I knew he was going to be fine. He just needed to buck up. He is a tough boy. Wyatt, on the other hand, needs all the help he can get. He has to catch every detail. He's the twice blessed child. "Like you care anyway..."
"Chris, you're old enough to do this on your own. You will be fine, I know it." Chris stormed out of the room.
"Great, Dad. You push one boy to the brink of insanity, and ignore the other one and break his heart."
"Wyatt, I love you, and I want to see you do well, and do good in the world." My son looked at me in a way I'll never forget. He had just damned me. My son had discarded me as his father.
"He stopped pushing me so hard after that. I mean, Leo still pushed, but not infront of Chris. Didn't make much difference. Six months later, my Auntie Phoebe and Auntie Paige got my mom and the three tried to Vanquish me on my 18th birthday. Something about a premonition Pheebs had. Well, I had been killing other witches, so.....well. I was evil. My father hid with Chris somewhere."
"Chris, you have to go back," I told my son. He was now 17. I was dying. Because of my failure as a father, my son didn't know how to heal me. "Go back to when Wyatt was a baby, and stop it from happening. Someone turned him evil. Please, son. Make sure he doesn't turn evil." I looked at my boy once more, and he nodded. I couldn't see him well any more. I was dying.
"DAMN! He's gone back. No worries. He didn't change it before, he won't change it again."
"I was sent back to protect Wyatt."
"From who?"
"I don't know."
