Part Five: All This Time

Chapter 3

After the distraction of Leo's arrival, when attention returned to Alaric, he clammed up, refusing to answer any questions, to explain or defend himself. He didn't look at Leo, who, not yet completely filled in on the morning's events, stood aside to let the sisters handle the situation.

Alaric said only one thing, addressing Paige: "Go on up and talk to the Elders. That's what you know you're supposed to do."

Giving up in frustration, Piper froze Alaric again so that Paige could orb him to the basement, where they set him up with a chair, pinned in by crystals, a makeshift cell to hold him. Then Paige, admitting that Alaric was right about the logical next move, left to find out what the Elders wanted to do with their errant Whitelighter, while the others explained to Leo the whole story of what had happened.

They had scarcely finished the tale when Paige returned with information that gave them a little more of the picture.

"His real name," she reported, "or rather his current name, the one he had when he was made a Whitelighter, is Gavin Ludlow. He wasn't a witch when he graduated to Whitelighter, but Chris is right, that was in his history. But in a past life during one of the witch persecutions, he completely turned to using his powers for personal gain — teetering on the edge of using them for evil. Maybe he was fed up with being persecuted, which is understandable, but I guess his actions made the danger for all witches where he lived that much worse. So, his powers were taken away and he lived a couple centuries of lifetimes as a mortal. Then he died saving someone's life and the Elders made him a Whitelighter."

Piper rolled her eyes. "That decision worked out well."

"It did, for about a hundred years. Then, a few years back, one of his charges was killed under suspicious circumstances, and he kind of lost it and dropped off the radar. Or maybe he lost it before she was killed — you know the Elders, they wouldn't give me much in the way of details. Either way, they lost track of him. But they did say he had been acting more and more erratic for a few years before that. Going back to when he met me — go figure. Or, more to the point, when he pumped me for information about this family."

"The question is, why?" Piper asked.

"They don't know."

Phoebe shrugged. "Revenge. That's what I got from him."

"And that's why he'll tell me," Leo said. "I know it was a long time ago, but he does know me, so maybe he'll be more likely to talk. But more importantly, no one who wants revenge wants to keep it a secret in the end. He wants the world to know how he's been wronged."

So Leo was the one who delivered the Elders' verdict. Chris, who had left Excalibur behind upstairs, accompanied his father, but hung back at the foot of the wooden stairs as Leo approached the Whitelighter.

This time, Alaric — for that was the name Leo could not help but think of — greeted him with a resigned half-smile, after his eyes flickered over to Chris on the stairs. "Leo," he said. "It's been an age."

"Paige spoke to the Elders. I expect you know what's in store."

"My soul will be sent back down for recycling." He did not sound like he feared the punishment.

"Yes. But before they do that, they allowed us some time to talk to you. They're not much concerned about your reasons; they never really care. But I want to know. What did we do to you?"

"You? I have no quarrel with you or your family."

"My sister-in-law is an empath. She said you wanted revenge. Are you telling me she read you wrong?"

Alaric considered Leo for a moment, and mused, "I suppose you, of all people, might understand. I know your story: what that Elder, Gideon, did to Wyatt; how they punished you for protecting your family …"

"So it's the Elders you want revenge on."

"You also know what a thankless job being a Whitelighter is, and how they can be if you step out of line." He began to warm to his grievance. "And before that, I was a witch. I didn't know I was working for them then; we were pretty much in the dark in those days. But it all came back to me once I gained my past life memories as a Whitelighter: the struggle, the work of using those powers for good … then how quickly what powers I had were stripped away when I slipped up."

"And when this all dawned on you, how you'd been mistreated, you began your revenge scheme by killing your charge?"

"What?" He seemed genuinely horrified. "Is that what they told you?"

"No, they just told Paige that you lost a charge under suspicious circumstances — and then you disappeared."

"If anyone is responsible for her 'suspicious' death, it's them. I wanted to help her, but they thought I shouldn't; they thought I was encouraging … her unorthodox methods. Maybe I was, but she did a lot of good. But the Elders took me off her case, and within days, she was attacked by some demon and killed. They hadn't yet assigned her a new Whitelighter. She could have been healed. I could have healed her, but they kept me away. I'd finally just had it, being at their disposal, getting nothing but grief in return for my service."

"So you vanished."

"That's right."

"I know what it's like to lose a charge, believe me," said Leo. "And you're right, I also know what it's like to have a quarrel with the Elders. But what I still don't understand is, why us? What did we have to do with any of this?"

"I told you, I have grudge against your family. But understand, despite all the legendary glory that's gone to Merlin, Aldith and I were just as dedicated in our magical service to Arthur. We just missed out on the historical fame. When I heard Paige talk about Excalibur, and then I saw him," Alaric said, glancing again Chris's direction, "I knew he was back. Imagine my surprise to learn that you all believed the heir was the older son. When I learned about the Fortalice, I saw my chance: I spread the rumors that she was after Excalibur, hoping it would drive Wyatt to take possession before you figured out who it really belonged to. It helped that she had somehow acquired this false reputation that she was after it for herself."

"If you had nothing against Chris, or Wyatt for that matter, why would you want Wyatt to claim the sword? Excalibur in the wrong hands …"

"I know. That was the point. I knew Wyatt's abilities. Give Wyatt the sword, make sure it gets into his hands, and it would create a power that would wreak havoc with the Elders' orderly universe."

"In other words, my sons were just pawns … You were using them to teach the Elders a lesson?" Leo took Alaric's silence as assent, and added, "You can consider that the Elders have done you one favor."

"And that is?"

"They stripped me of my powers. If I still had them, you might be suffering more than just a soul-recycling."

Alaric finally spoke to Chris, who was still sitting on the basement stairs. "And what are you going to do? You've got your own magical powers now."

Chris shook his head. "Nothing. Your big plan failed anyway. I'm not sure you're worth it."

"I see. Regardless, let me give you this caution: I wouldn't get too big of an idea of the importance of Excalibur. That's the funny thing about legends. Arthur ended up being a side player in his own story. Merlin took center stage as the star, but even Lancelot gets more attention, and he's the one … Well, you know the story. But then again, the Round Table was a failure in the end, wasn't it? Better luck to you this time around — but you may be overshadowed yet again."

Leo looked at his son, who seemed less crushed than contemptuous, even amused by Alaric's words.

"Whatever," Chris said. "I've got better things to worry about than stuff that happened over a thousand years ago."

The truth was, Leo contemplated, the older Chris, the one who had traveled back from a different future, he had certainly been overshadowed by his powerful older brother — and had felt a burning resentment for it that he had taken no trouble to hide. Yet despite his feelings, he had moved time itself to save Wyatt, and in the end, had given his life for his brother.

And now this fourteen-year-old Chris had been known to show flashes of the same envy — not as deep or severe, Leo believed, but it was there all the same.

"The difference is …" Leo murmured — and realized he had said that aloud. So he continued, addressing Alaric directly: "He may or may not be overshadowed, who knows. The difference is that my son has a more generous soul than you seem to have ever had, Alaric. And I have confidence in him, because I know what he is capable of."

Excalibur itself had not provoked the jumble of emotions that crossed Chris's face — amazement, pleasure, pride — and Leo was gratified to see it. As he gestured for Chris to come forward, he said to Alaric, "You have a chance to redeem yourself a little before we turn you over to the Elders."

Chris walked up and produced a small device they had confiscated from Alaric's pocket when he was frozen. "I want you to give my friend Vincenta her invisibility power back. How do you work this?"

Alaric hesitated, then sighed, "I made it so that I'm the only one who can use it. If you give it to me, I'll reverse everything it's done." Reacting to their skeptical looks, he said, "No tricks. Honestly, I'm ready for this to be over."

Leo believed him, but they still weren't going to take any chances. Before they did anything, Alaric acquired two more guards: Piper and Wyatt, ready to take forceful action if he tried anything suspicious. Only then did they take a crystal away and handed Alaric the device.

He muttered something under his breath as he held it, and at his words, multicolored strings of light strayed up through the basement ceiling. "That should do it," he said, and gave the device to Leo, after which Piper, glaring, replaced the crystal.

"Chris?" she said. "You want to go check?"

He orbed away, and returned, jubilant, in a minute or two: "It worked! She can turn invisible again!"

Then it was Paige's turn to play messenger once more. She left to give the Elders the go-ahead, and had scarcely been gone a minute when their sentence was executed, and Alaric disappeared in a final swirl of orb lights.

Phoebe took it upon herself to go to the school and fill Merlin in on what had happened. He greeted the news about Alaric with equanimity.

"It's not as though I expected this from the man I once knew, but nor does it surprise me," the wizard said. "In any case, I'm glad to hear that Vincenta Barraza has her power back. An interesting coincidence: I spoke with the father of Joe Lasota this afternoon. Joe's recently acquired Firestarter abilities seem to have vanished, as of today. His parents actually saw a kind of light shoot out of him, and his father dragged Joe here, demanding an explanation, or a diagnosis, or a hunt for the demon responsible. In Leo's absence, I dealt with them, but I couldn't offer an explanation — especially since Joe, though obviously furious, was very reluctant to talk."

"Because he knows he didn't acquire that power legitimately in the first place," Phoebe guessed.

"It seems likely, given what you've told me."

"If it really was Alaric's doing, and if provoking Wyatt was part of his master plan, that kid was a good person to use." Phoebe squinted at Merlin. "You know," she said, "you don't seem very surprised by any of this. You knew about Chris, didn't you?"

"I suspected. Then after his visit to that past life, I was certain. But to tell you the truth, my mystical vision, if you want to call it that, has been a bit scrambled in this situation, and I think you know why. It took me some time to unravel one timeline from the other."

"You know about the other future? Details?"

"A few, yes. I know that Wyatt took possession of the sword before."

"And you knew what it could do to him … and you didn't say anything then, either?" She could see by his expression that she was right. "Why?"

"Let's say I had the intuition that everything would turn out all right in the end."

"All right? One of my nephews died. In his father's arms, and I know Leo still suffers from it. And … and Wyatt turned evil!"

"I said, 'in the end.' "

"Fine. But if you first 'suspected,' and then knew that the sword was meant for Chris, then why are you teaching Wyatt?"

"Because you asked me to," he reminded her with a smile. "Excalibur doesn't have to be in the job description for me to help when my help is requested." Then he added more seriously, "Don't think I haven't struggled with this. But from what I could foresee of both futures, I believed that all of you — but most especially, Wyatt — needed to come to discover the truth for yourselves. In that other time, it wouldn't have mattered what I said. Wyatt was … troubled. And he would not have been capable of comprehending or accepting that the power wasn't his."

"Saving Wyatt from Gideon made a difference."

"More than you know. I would also say that I'm not sure the rest of you would have taken my word for it either. And from all the changes, large and small, that sprung from Chris's trip to the past, it came down to this: Wyatt gave up Excalibur. It was his decision, and this time, he made the right one."

Phoebe made a move to take her leave, but then paused. "If you can see some of the original time … Chris — the other Chris — told his grandfather that Piper died when he was fourteen. Do you know anything about that?"

"To the best of my knowledge, she was killed when the Fortalice attacked the Manor."

"So this morning … we stopped it!"

"It would appear so," Merlin answered, smiling in response to Phoebe's elated grin.

The party went on as planned. Paige had declared this one of those occasions when it was okay to use her "Object of Objection" spell. "It's not our fault, this huge mess," she said, "and we've got guests coming!"

Excalibur was not the topic of conversation during dinner or anytime throughout the evening, and Chris was glad of it. It was nice to have a — to use Mom's word — normal birthday (at least the second half of it), with presents, family, friends, food, and then the kids left to themselves to watch movies late into the night.

But finally the younger birthday party guests had conked out in the wee hours, scattered throughout the living room in sleeping bags. The house was silent, but Chris was still awake, the events of the first half of the day creeping back into his thoughts. He lay on his side, shielded by his own sleeping bag, shuffling through the tarot cards that Vincenta had given him for his birthday. He could just barely see them in the dark as he pulled out three at random: Six of Swords, Wheel of Fortune …

The sound and glow of orbing suddenly diverted his attention. He twisted around to see, and where Wyatt had been curled up in a chair, now there were only blankets.

Where had he gone? Chris concentrated and detected where Wyatt was, but he waited a little while before following after. He boxed up the cards and set them on an end table before quietly getting up; he had to step over Mark and negotiate a couple more lumps under sleeping bags before he got out of the room and orbed to the Manor's roof. There, as expected, he found Wyatt, who was lying back, eyes open, staring at the night sky.

"Am I bugging you?"

"Right at this moment? Not yet."

Knowing his brother would have told him to go away if that were what he wanted, Chris settled down a few feet away, sitting cross-legged and looking out over the city.

So far, Wyatt had shown no anger or disappointment over this revelation about Excalibur, but Chris was worried all the same. So after a few minutes of silence, he had to ask: "Are you mad?"

"Mad?"

"About, you know, losing Excalibur."

Wyatt kept his eyes on the sky, seeming to think it over. Then he said, "I'm not mad at you, if that's what you're worried about. It's not like you went and shoved me out of the way. It was my choice."

"Okay, it was, but … everyone thought the sword was yours. You're not mad it's not?"

Wyatt sat up, and he now had to turn around to look up at his brother on the slope of the roof. "No. If it's not mine, it's not mine. So everyone was wrong. I never thought I needed it anyway."

There was no denying that Chris had heard his brother say that more than once — usually during an argument, or when he was trying to sound tough. But if Wyatt said it, it must be true. At least, Chris decided to believe him.

"When you thought it was yours for so long … what did you think you would do? What am I supposed to do?"

"I never gave Exalibur much thought at all, not really. Sorry."

"They don't even have kings anymore. So what's the big deal? What's the use of it?"

"That's up to you. Maybe you'll decide you don't need it either. You've got lots of time to think it over. I really doubt Mom's going to let you set up a throne in the living room."

"Your bedroom," Chris teased. "I think I'll make your bedroom my throne room. You can sleep in the basement."

"Don't push it. I can just orb you, your throne and your sword into the middle of the Bay. Try me."

They stifled their laughter, unlikely though it was that there was anyone on the street, or that someone inside the house could hear them. They were over the attic; no one was going to be up there, even if the night's darkness was already lightening to a bluish-gray.

"Wyatt?"

"Yeah."

"You'll … Whatever it is I have to do, or decide to do, you'll help, right?"

Wyatt snorted, "Like you'd be able to get along without me."

"I'm serious."

"So am I. You think I'd let you be stranded out there on your own? I won't. You know that."

Chris knew. He should have realized that Wyatt wasn't about to abandon him to figure it out on his own. That wasn't like him.

"I mean, you're still the 'Twice-Blessed Child,' or whatever, right? And what the heck does that mean?"

"You think too much, you know that? It means whatever I make of it."

"Just like Excalibur."

"Right." Wyatt returned his gaze to the neighborhood stretching out to the city beyond, the streetlamps fading with the approaching morning.

It also wasn't like Wyatt to step aside for someone else. But he had done exactly that, almost twenty-four hours ago now. Chris didn't expect his brother to make it a habit, and he found that somehow comforting. It was okay; Chris was willing to share the stage.

"Still," Chris said, "someone's got to do some thinking around here." He returned Wyatt's mock glare with a smirk, but conceded, "Okay, I guess we can make it up as we go along, too."

Then Wyatt tensed at a sound in the Manor below them; suddenly Chris felt like he had been talking really loudly. Could they still get back inside undetected? Was this breaking the rules of grounding anyway? They weren't in the house, but they were on it, after all.

There was a scrape of a window raised, and their mother's voice, at once amused and exasperated: "Boys?"

Wyatt looked back at Chris with a conspiratorial grin. They were caught, but they could try to orb to the living room before Mom actually saw them …

"Together?" Chris whispered, and at Wyatt's nod, they made a break for it.

The End

Author's Notes

I'm afraid I have to be humble in response to Victorious Light's review last chapter: I can't claim to have come up with the idea that perhaps Excalibur belonged to Chris rather than Wyatt. I first came across that theory on Television Without Pity's Charmed forum, and I took that very basic premise, grafted it onto a story idea I had been thinking up about Piper's death in the original future and then not-death in the changed future, and … this whole thing was the result. So, thanks to the TwoP folks for the plot bunny!

If you want to know some of the details of the Excalibur theory, head on over to my LiveJournal (the website link is on my profile page). There should be an entry up soon explaining what the gist of it.

Thanks all around again to all the people I've already thanked along the way, and to my readers, for your much-appreciated comments. Oh yes, and I should give a nod to Mary, who got me hooked on this show mid-Season 6. This Chris obsession is all her fault! (And she's in it all for Leo, so I hope she enjoyed him in this story.)