16Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed.
AN: What you need to know about this universe:
1) Christopher Perry Halliwell is Elizabeth Patricia Halliwell, and always has been.
2) Liz, in order to prevent the world collapsing due to a paradox, was forced to use a spell to replicate her Dark Future self's adventure in the past. As a result, the two versions of her merged, which had various effects, positive and negative.
3) She eloped with Niko (male!Bianca) the day after returning from the past (the spell she used brought her back, where Paige and Wyatt healed her). Niko also has memories of his other life, but not as vivid, because he was under the spell for a shorter time.
4) Liz is the heir to Excalibur, not Wyatt. I headcanon this, because I think the producers made Wyatt way over-powered/destined, and Liz/Chris proved to be a natural leader.
5) I refuse to believe that the child of a Charmed One and an Elder could only have telekinesis and orbing, while his older brother (who was conceived when Leo was a whitelighter, btw!) is able to conjure dragons at six months. You can find a list of Liz/Chris' powers on my Warren family tree on my profile.
Oh, I completely made up the addresses mentioned. If they're legit, I had no idea. Okay, that's everything I think. I hope you guys enjoy it! R&R to let me know what you think!
Chapter One
Ominous Feelings
Apartment 15B: Westbury Heights, San Francisco. June 12th, 2026
Wyatt Halliwell freely admitted that he wasn't a particularly clever person. In fact, he could probably be considered dumb. He often went charging headfirst into various situations without once thinking of the possible consequences. He had caused many a disaster over the years, most of which had been fixed by his long-suffering younger sister, Liz.
One action that he didn't consider to turn out to be a catastrophe was when he married Emily Richardson. Granted, it had been a shotgun wedding, but he was now deeply in love with the blonde psychic. And although he'd originally been overwhelmed and terrified at the thought of becoming a father, he had since reconciled himself to it, and was now excited at the thought of it.
He was thinking about this as he looked around at the newly-complete nursery. All it needed were a few more toys, and some other small bits and pieces needed for infants.
He and Emily had bought a bigger apartment when they got married, Emily renting out her old one as a source of extra income while he had paid (with a bit of help from his parents, who were both furious at him getting a girl pregnant in a one-night stand and pleased at becoming grandparents) the required fine for giving up his lease early.
The apartment they had was still small enough, but cozy. It had a master bedroom for Emily and Wyatt, a small study with a couch-bed for guests and a room for the baby.
Because Emily didn't want to know the baby's gender, they had decorated the room neutrally. Phoebe had warned them that babies' eyes developed better with monochrome colours and stripes in the first three months, so the walls were covered in washable wallpaper (advice from Piper) that had large cream and light grey stripes going straight across it. The crib, changing table and wardrobe were all painted cream with a fluffy, white with black spots, circular rug laid down and covering the majority of the floor. A set of two cream shelves held several kids' books, and the zebra-themed toy chest could barely close, it was so stuffed with toys. Finally, a comfy rocking chair with a newly-made cream covering was placed in the corner. It had once been Emily's, just as the furniture (save the crib, which was brand new) had belonged to both Wyatt and his sister.
"What're you up to?" Emily asked him teasingly as she stepped inside, clutching a small cardboard box.
She was barefoot, with her blonde curls pulled back into a casual ponytail. Her cheeks were rosy and she was dressed in a simple maternity dress, yellow with peach flowers on it. Looking at her, Wyatt could completely understand the phrase 'glowing with pregnancy'.
He took the box from her. "You shouldn't be lifting things," he scolded her mildly. "Leave it to me."
Emily rolled her green eyes, although she did take advantage of her free hands to rub her back as she sat down on the rocking chair. "I'm pregnant, not an invalid, Wyatt," she retorted stubbornly. "It's just a couple of things from your mother. Anyway, you didn't answer the question. What're you doing?"
Wyatt shrugged, setting the box on top of the changing table. "Just thinking how excited I am for the baby to arrive," he grinned broadly, as he did every time that he thought about his coming child. Sometimes he almost felt like bouncing from foot-to-foot from excitement.
Emily beamed back at him, nodding in agreement and rubbing her baby bump gently. "Me too," she stated cheerfully. "By the way, who do you want as godparents? We haven't talked about it."
"My sister has to be godmother," Wyatt declared immediately. He was willing to let Emily decide on godfather for their child, but he wouldn't budge on this. Liz was his best friend, his closest confidante. When Emily had revealed her pregnancy, he had gone straight to his sister for advice. There was no one he trusted more than Liz. And he knew that she would guard his child fiercely, teaching and loving them while preventing them from getting spoiled. It had to be Liz.
Thankfully, Emily didn't seem to feel like arguing. She nodded simply, still caressing her bump gently. "Of course," she agreed. "Then we have to decide godfather. I was thinking either my cousin or Damien."
Wyatt hummed thoughtfully, rubbing his jaw. He was fond of Emily's cousin, Jason Radcliffe, but Damien was a good friend of his. They had known each other since infancy, when the Charmed Ones had saved the baby half-manticore from being taken from his mortal father.
"I'd prefer Damien, to be truthful," he admitted. "I know him better than Jace."
Emily nodded silently, her brow crinkled. "But Damien isn't the most, responsible, of people," she pointed out.
Wyatt grimaced, acknowledging that fact as the truth it was. Damien was a player, like Wyatt had been until Emily's pregnancy, and, like Wyatt, he wasn't the best at holding down a job. Wyatt always had the option of working at P3 or Charmed, his mom's restaurant, whenever he ended up getting bored with a job and quitting, but Damien didn't. The part-demon struggled to hold down a job, getting bored and slacking as he tried to entertain himself, only to end up being fired. At which point, he would retreat to his father, who would hunt down somebody willing to take on his irresponsible son, and the cycle would start all over again.
Neither of them had finished college, having tried several different courses before giving up and dropping out. Only magic made Wyatt content, and he would happily live his life entirely in the magical world if it had been practical.
Sometimes Wyatt felt jealous of his sister.
Liz was the apple of their parents' eyes, and seemed perfect at everything she did, whether magical or not. She had skipped two grades, gotten a Masters in Business and Cooking from Salem State University, and now helped their mother manage P3 and Charmed. She absorbed everything she read or heard, and supervised a Warding club twice a week at Magic School. Whenever one of the family, including Wyatt himself, had a problem, they went to Liz to fix it.
The only thing Elizabeth Halliwell had ever done wrong in the family's eyes was elope with a Phoenix. But their parents tended to blame Niko for that, refusing to lay the blame on Liz. If you believed Piper, Niko had taken advantage of Liz when she was vulnerable, using their shared memories against her. Piper conveniently ignored any evidence contrary to her beliefs, and it had caused more than one fight between her and her daughter. Only fear of Liz deciding to leave the family behind completely made their parents acknowledge Niko's existence.
But, in the long-term, Wyatt could never hold onto the jealousy.
Not when he caught her staring out over the city with a pale face, as if she was seeing another, much grimmer, scene. Not when she sometimes flinched when being touched, or disappeared into memories of a life that no longer existed.
Wyatt didn't know the details of what had happened in the other time, who the Source had been or how they had risen to power in the first place. When Liz was hit by flashbacks so violent she got sick, and nobody but Niko could calm her down, he didn't want to.
"Well, how about we think it over?" Wyatt suggested. "We don't have to decide right away. In fact, we should probably do the opposite. This is an important decision, after all."
Finally, after twenty-three years of life, Wyatt Matthew Halliwell was learning to think this through. Liz would be so proud, he thought to himself cheerily.
Emily nodded. "You're righ-"
Her voice faded away, as did the world around him.
The carefully decorated nursery turned bare and white but not a nice white. Instead it was the greyish-white of neglect. Mould crawled up the single-remaining curtain and peeling walls, and there was a hole in the corner. The furniture that had been placed in the room disappeared, leaving it bare save for a single, worn-out mattress and a rickety chair.
Wyatt gasped for breath, inhaling damp air that seemed as bleak as the world around him.
"Wyatt!" Emily's voice, filled with panic, suddenly managed to cut through the fog of despair engulfing him. The terrifying scene disappeared, replaced by Emily's face, her eyes wide with worry for him as she gripped the sides of his jaw.
"Wyatt!" she repeated. "Are you alright? Can you hear me?"
He swallowed and nodded, still shaken. "I, I'm fine." He looked around the room, trying to solidify the claim. "I'm fine," he repeated, the feeling of despair and grief easing away. "I was just- I'm okay now."
"Maybe we should call Liz," Emily suggested, still anxious. "You wouldn't answer me. You were just staring blankly for like, a minute. What happened?"
"I'm okay now," Wyatt insisted. He sighed at Emily's doubtful, worried look. "I'll talk to her and Dad at dinner," he suggested. "I just got a weird image. But I'm not psychic, so I'm probably just tired or something."
Emily still looked reluctant, but gave in. "Alright, but if you don't tell them, I will," she threatened.
Wyatt nodded in acceptance of the deal, then decided to change the subject. "How about we check out what Mom sent over this time," he suggested, picking up the box she'd carried in.
Emily smiled and reached out to lift the lid, and they spent the next while cooing and laughing over the old toys sent over by Piper. But despite everything, remnants of the sense of despair Wyatt had felt continued to linger in the back of his mind.
Apartment 16A: Cayden's Way, San Francisco. June 12th, 2026
Something felt off. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something was making the hair on the back of her neck stand up. It was a familiar sensation, that of her Enhanced Intuition or psychic abilities whispering a warning to her. But despite knowing that something was wrong, she couldn't pinpoint the source of it.
Liz gripped the iron railing of the balcony tightly, surveying the city view that spread out beneath her. It was so full of life.
The sky had darkened enough that the streetlamps were glowing, but some natural light remained. The sunset bathed the Golden Gate Bridge in a firey halo, and she could hear the sounds of chatter and cars coming from all directions.
This day in another timeline, the sky had been grey and overcast from smoke that came mostly from people being burnt by Pratt's Witch Hunters, the Bridge was a mangled wreck from the Battle of San Francisco and the noise was the screaming of innocents being tormented by his thugs.
She shook away the memories, turning her back on the view and pulling a hand through her loose brunette locks.
It never happened, she repeated her mental mantra as she climbed back inside the apartment. None of it happened, so stop dwelling on it.
If only things were that simple.
Inside in their bedroom, Niko was flipping through a spellbook, the small frown on his face and blank look in his eyes telling her that he wasn't taking in a word. Both of them had been feeling off all day, but neither of them could figure out what was bothering them. The only thing they knew was that they weren't being followed. Liz had checked multiple times using her Enhanced Senses.
"You okay?" she asked, leaning against the brightly-painted dresser. All of their furniture was eclectic and bright, as was the majority of their clothes, save for their demon hunting attire. An attempt to distance their new lives from their original ones, in which drab and bloodstained were the main 'fashions' for Resistance soldiers.
"I'm good," Niko answered flatly. It was obvious to Liz that he was lying, but she didn't call him on it. She knew what was bothering him, after all, and there was nothing she could do to fix it. At this point, she suspected they would just have to wait for whatever was coming. She hated doing that instead of taking action, but she couldn't confront an enemy she didn't know about.
She sighed, running a hand through her hair again and pushing herself off the dresser. "We'd better get ready to go," she murmured. "Mom'll be pissed if we're late."
Niko gave her a faint smile as he closed the book and put it aside. "Well, we certainly wouldn't that, now would we?" he smirked. "'specially as she'd probably take it as an opportunity to vanquish me for being a bad influence or something."
Liz snorted and grasped his lapels, pulling him down to her height to kiss him quickly. "Don't worry," she cooed mockingly after they separated. "I'll protect you from the scary lady."
"Scary lady with the ability to blow things up with a flick of her fingers," Niko reminded her drolly.
Liz snorted and tossed him a fresh shirt. "Move it, Firebird."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
