Defection - Charmed fic - PG13 - halliwellcest

[tigriswolf]

Title: Defection
Fandom: "Charmed"
Disclaimer: not my characters.  just for fun.
Warnings: unchanged future; implied incestuous slash
Pairings: implied Wyatt/Chris
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 585
Point of view: third

Fare thee well, my love.

There is nowhere left to fall… 

-

They speak of him, even now. Even after… everything that happened. They murmur, believing their words are not heard, not recorded.

Every syllable is recorded, listened to. Every vowel, every consonant. Heard, mulled over, decided about. Every last one.

If they knew, they would fear. Might rebel, finally pushed over the edge. Might choose that they no longer wish to tremble beneath the weight of his anger.

So he listens, day after day, year after year. And he never makes the decision.

-

It is a painless existence. He survives moment to moment, away from memory, away from wonder—away from love. There are no emotions he allows himself, because to rejoice is to grieve. He cannot afford that.

He is the supreme being. His will is law. His every last whim is fulfilled before he finishes the thought. He commands instant obedience and believes that fear is better than respect.

Were his family alive, they would not recognize him. Of course, were his family alive—but he never completes that thought, for he has not the time to reminisce or regret.

-

It is only late at night, alone in a bed fit for the king, that he allows himself to recall their faces, their voices—that one touch. The one touch granted to him before—before…

—before—

-

It was quick. None of them saw it coming. Painless. Easy. And a thousand other words that bring the scantest of comfort.

No adjective can truly describe the way the Charmed Ones fell, one after another, heartbeats apart. None can paint an accurate picture of Phoebe’s shallow gasp, of Paige’s aborted cry, of Piper’s eyes as she watched her baby sisters plunge to the floor. The betrayal, the accusation, the plea in her gaze as she stared at their killer.

The demons who witnessed the Charmed Ones’ defeat lived only a moment after Piper breathed her last.

The Halliwell-Matthew’s children survived mere minutes before meeting their end.

All but one.

And no one speaks his name to his face. Not anymore.

-

He does not contemplate what he sacrificed that day. What he’s done to himself and the world since then. He merely endures, one breath to the next, shoving all emotions away and continuing the day.

This is never what he imagined. He almost wishes he had someone—someone—beside him. Someone who knew, who loved—

—who touched—

-

And he is king. He was prophesized. Meant to be. Beloved, envied, feared—both sides were enraptured with him before he ever breathed.

Now both cower beneath his feet and beg him for mercy. Mortal, magical—demon, witch—child, adult—none matter. Mercy is an emotion and those are things he no longer has.

-

They speak of him, sheltered by the cloak of night. He hears them, but he does not let on. Refuses to cross that one final line and perhaps push them too far.

Demons cower and angels shudder; witches weep and mortals survive.

Everyone mourned the day the Halliwell’s died.

-

In light of day, as the sun touches the distant east and graces the world with warmth, for less than a heartbeat, he allows himself to feel that one touch. The soft brush of fingers across his face, the gentle, barely there kiss of lips on his, and the voice whispered in his mind—

—I forgive you, Wy—

But only a moment. He cannot afford more than that.

Comments

[alznthlay.livejournal.com]

more of the same: "oh I love you"

[tigriswolf]

*glee*

Thank you so much! I had a slight obsession with Chris Perry-Halliwell for awhile.

[alznthlay.livejournal.com]

It was a good obsession to have

:)