Post by StoryGirl83 on Aug 27, 2008 21:48:41 GMT -5
Chapter Fifteen – Brotherly Banter
A couple hours later Wyatt and Chris arrived back at their apartment. They had left Victor at his car, waiting until he was out of site to go inside. The entered the building in silence. Wyatt entered the apartment first. He wore a clean shirt, provided by his father. He walked a few steps and turned right into the living room. He flipped on the light switch as he entered the living room, turned right, again, and sat down on the couch that sat across from the kitchen.
Chris entered the room a few steps behind him. He walked over to the bookcase to Wyatt’s right, against the outer corned of the apartment. He stood a couple feet from where Wyatt was sitting. “How does your back feel?” he asked finally.
“Pretty good, considering,” Wyatt informed him, telling his brother nothing. “How does your head feel?”
With a straight face, Chris repeated his brother’s words. “Pretty good considering.”
“Cute,” Wyatt replied sarcastically.
Chris scowled.
“I’m going to be fine, Chris,” Wyatt assured his brother. “Maybe a little scared, but overall fine. I’m not so sure about you. Talk to me.”
Chris walked away from the bookcase and sat down on the couch next to Wyatt. “I remember why we hid stuff around the house, why we started. I remember why I have the job I have and why I am taking the classes at school that I am. I remember the same attack happening on my fourteenth birthday in both time lines, but with different outcomes. I remember a Dad who loves me and a brother who is good . . . at everything, other than house work. Can’t clean. Can’t cook.”
“Can clean,” Wyatt informed him, “just don’t most of the time.”
Chris laughed.
“I’m comfortable,” Wyatt continued. “I can find stuff.”
“So can I,” Chris informed his older brother.
Wyatt looked at Chris and laughed. “I get enough sterile at the hospital when I volunteer. I don’t need my room like that. Besides, the rest of the apartment is clean. My room is lived in.”
“Yeah, lived in by the Tasmanian Devil,” Chris retorted with a snort.
Wyatt looked at him confused. “The who?”
Chris didn’t even bother. “Never mind.”
Wyatt, however persisted, “Seriously. Who?”
“Looney Toons,” Chris admitted, reluctantly. “It’s a cartoon. You know, Bugs Bunny.”
Wyatt nodded, uncertain. “And this had to do with a devil how?”
Chris looked at his brother and shook his head. “Never mind. Taz was something like a tornado going through. That’s what your room usually looks like. Maybe Pig Pen would have been a better example.”
Wyatt looked at Chris, offended. “My room may be a mess, but it’s not a pig pen.”
Chris chuckled at his brother’s words. “That got you riled? Besides, I was saying your room looks like it’s lived in by Pig Pen from Peanuts, not calling your room a pig pen.”
A light seemed to go on in Wyatt’s head. “Oh. That Pig Pen.” The obscure references from the twentieth century were rather lost on him.
Chris nodded, amused. “Yes, that Pig Pen.”
Changing the topic, Wyatt asked, “So are you going to tell me about the unaltered time line.”
“Who let you change the topic of conversation?” Chris complained.
Wyatt moved to the edge of the couch, so that his back wasn’t touching the back of the couch. “The guy with burns on his back.”
“Low blow,” Chris informed him, “playing the sympathy card.”
“Are you going to talk?” Wyatt asked, impatiently. “Or do I need to come up with another tactic?”
“You don’t play fair,” Chris complained.
Wyatt shrugged his shoulders. “I’m worried about you, little brother.”
“This from the guy who just got blasted in the back with a vial of boiling water.” Chris shifted uncomfortably on the couch.
Wyatt smiled a little. “And thanks to your quick thinking and Mom’s gel, I will be fine. I’m not so sure about you.”
“I don’t need coddling, Wy,” Chris protested. “I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can, Chris,” Wyatt admitted. “I also know you don’t have to. Do you know that?”
Chris sighed. “Fine. Ask your questions. I can’t promise that I will answer every one. I probably won’t, but I’ll try.”
Wyatt looked at Chris as a mischievous look crossed his face. “When I was ten, what did I give you for your birthday.”
Chris gave Wyatt a playful shove and stood. “Would you be serious? It was a red ball . . . in both time lines. You wanted to know about the other time line, not test whether or not I was real. I am fully, physically and mentally, your brother. I am the young man who almost caused myself to cease to exist because I went to the past and broke up our parents, so I could keep an eye on you and save you from some unknown evil that would change you. When I died doing that I was also born and I became the little brother you grew up with. Regardless of which time line I can totally kick your rear in a cooking or potions contest.
“Well, I’d win in an athletic competition,” Wyatt boasted.
“You’re forgetting the three legged competition back in junior high,” Chris teased referring to a time when Wyatt had teamed up with his best friend, Seth Silberman, and came in dead last because Seth managed to trip them both.
“Not my fault,” Wyatt protested. “He is totally uncoordinated.”
“Well, I still beat you,” Chris reiterated. It was the only time and he was rather proud of it.
Wyatt looked at Chris for several seconds. “I’m sorry.”
“Huh?” Chris looked at Wyatt confused.
Wyatt looked down. “Whatever I . . . he did, I’m sorry.”
“Wyatt, look at me,” Chris commanded.
Wyatt looked at him, wary.
“I came to the past to save you,” Chris reminded him. It was one of the few things Wyatt had managed to learn about it. “You don’t really need to know the details. You don’t really want to know the details.”
Chris is wrong on both accounts, Wyatt thought as he listened to his brother talk. He did need to know the details, because they were part of what was bothering Chris. He did want to know the details, because he didn’t know any other way to understand what his brother was going through.
Not knowing the thoughts in his brother’s head, Chris kept talking. “All you need to know is I could have tried to stop you, permanently, don’t know if I would have succeeded, but I could have tried. I didn’t, because I didn’t just want everyone else safe, I wanted you safe, too.” Chris eyes grew hard as he thought of things Wyatt had done in the other time line. “Don’t get me wrong. If I had failed I would have found a way to stop you somehow. Maybe I would have stripped your powers. I don’t think I could have killed you.”
“Thanks,” Wyatt replied sarcastically.
Chris didn’t really hear as he continued talking. “And I don’t think you could have killed me, not ultimately. Not when it came down to it. So I don’t really know how things would have turned out if I had failed.”
“Chris?” Wyatt called, trying to pull his brother out of his reverie.
Chris looked at Wyatt surprised. “Sorry.”
“That’s okay,” Wyatt informed him. “I just wanted to make sure you remembered where you were.”
“Hard to forget,” Chris replied, his voice touched with irony. “Though I guess that was the point of today. Archemneme wanted me to forget. Instead I remembered. That must have thrown him for a loop.” He turned to look at Wyatt. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” Wyatt asked confused.
“For getting the demon away from me,” Chris told him with a slight smile. “I panicked.”
“You’ll return the favor,” Wyatt confided. “Even if you don’t, you’re my little brother. That’s what big brothers do, look out for little brothers.”
“What?” Chris teased, standing. “Saving you from turning evil wasn’t enough?”
Wyatt looked at Chris. A smile formed on his lips and he started to laugh.
Chris watched him for a moment and then the little smile on his face grew.
Wyatt stood and hugged Chris. “Don’t ever change, little bro.” Wyatt let go of Chris, grinning. He walked toward the doorway to the hall. Once he got there he stopped and turned around. “I forgot to tell you, your psychology teacher called and said he’s flunking you out.” Wyatt gave Chris a Cheshire grin and ran out of the room into the hall.
Chris ran after him. “You little liar.” Chris ran out of the room into the hall just in time to see his brother’s door closing behind him.
“Admit it,” Wyatt told him through the door as he locked it from inside, “I had you for a moment.”
“Open the door,” Chris commanded, hitting the door with his open palm.
“Nope,” Wyatt said, laughing a bit.
“I hate not being able to orb,” Chris said with a scowl.”
Laughing harder, Wyatt admitted. “Right about now, I love it.”
Chris was silent for a moment and then he just turned around and walked back into the living room.
Wondering about the silence, Wyatt called from his locked room. “Chris?”
Chris picked up the phone off the wall. Instead of saying a name and letting the phone dial, he punched in numbers once the phone was one.
“Chris?” Wyatt called, again, from his room, wondering even more about his brother’s silence. “What are you doing?”
Holding the phone to his ear, a smile formed on Chris lips as he replied, “Calling my professor.” After all, one could never be too careful.
Chris entered the room a few steps behind him. He walked over to the bookcase to Wyatt’s right, against the outer corned of the apartment. He stood a couple feet from where Wyatt was sitting. “How does your back feel?” he asked finally.
“Pretty good, considering,” Wyatt informed him, telling his brother nothing. “How does your head feel?”
With a straight face, Chris repeated his brother’s words. “Pretty good considering.”
“Cute,” Wyatt replied sarcastically.
Chris scowled.
“I’m going to be fine, Chris,” Wyatt assured his brother. “Maybe a little scared, but overall fine. I’m not so sure about you. Talk to me.”
Chris walked away from the bookcase and sat down on the couch next to Wyatt. “I remember why we hid stuff around the house, why we started. I remember why I have the job I have and why I am taking the classes at school that I am. I remember the same attack happening on my fourteenth birthday in both time lines, but with different outcomes. I remember a Dad who loves me and a brother who is good . . . at everything, other than house work. Can’t clean. Can’t cook.”
“Can clean,” Wyatt informed him, “just don’t most of the time.”
Chris laughed.
“I’m comfortable,” Wyatt continued. “I can find stuff.”
“So can I,” Chris informed his older brother.
Wyatt looked at Chris and laughed. “I get enough sterile at the hospital when I volunteer. I don’t need my room like that. Besides, the rest of the apartment is clean. My room is lived in.”
“Yeah, lived in by the Tasmanian Devil,” Chris retorted with a snort.
Wyatt looked at him confused. “The who?”
Chris didn’t even bother. “Never mind.”
Wyatt, however persisted, “Seriously. Who?”
“Looney Toons,” Chris admitted, reluctantly. “It’s a cartoon. You know, Bugs Bunny.”
Wyatt nodded, uncertain. “And this had to do with a devil how?”
Chris looked at his brother and shook his head. “Never mind. Taz was something like a tornado going through. That’s what your room usually looks like. Maybe Pig Pen would have been a better example.”
Wyatt looked at Chris, offended. “My room may be a mess, but it’s not a pig pen.”
Chris chuckled at his brother’s words. “That got you riled? Besides, I was saying your room looks like it’s lived in by Pig Pen from Peanuts, not calling your room a pig pen.”
A light seemed to go on in Wyatt’s head. “Oh. That Pig Pen.” The obscure references from the twentieth century were rather lost on him.
Chris nodded, amused. “Yes, that Pig Pen.”
Changing the topic, Wyatt asked, “So are you going to tell me about the unaltered time line.”
“Who let you change the topic of conversation?” Chris complained.
Wyatt moved to the edge of the couch, so that his back wasn’t touching the back of the couch. “The guy with burns on his back.”
“Low blow,” Chris informed him, “playing the sympathy card.”
“Are you going to talk?” Wyatt asked, impatiently. “Or do I need to come up with another tactic?”
“You don’t play fair,” Chris complained.
Wyatt shrugged his shoulders. “I’m worried about you, little brother.”
“This from the guy who just got blasted in the back with a vial of boiling water.” Chris shifted uncomfortably on the couch.
Wyatt smiled a little. “And thanks to your quick thinking and Mom’s gel, I will be fine. I’m not so sure about you.”
“I don’t need coddling, Wy,” Chris protested. “I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can, Chris,” Wyatt admitted. “I also know you don’t have to. Do you know that?”
Chris sighed. “Fine. Ask your questions. I can’t promise that I will answer every one. I probably won’t, but I’ll try.”
Wyatt looked at Chris as a mischievous look crossed his face. “When I was ten, what did I give you for your birthday.”
Chris gave Wyatt a playful shove and stood. “Would you be serious? It was a red ball . . . in both time lines. You wanted to know about the other time line, not test whether or not I was real. I am fully, physically and mentally, your brother. I am the young man who almost caused myself to cease to exist because I went to the past and broke up our parents, so I could keep an eye on you and save you from some unknown evil that would change you. When I died doing that I was also born and I became the little brother you grew up with. Regardless of which time line I can totally kick your rear in a cooking or potions contest.
“Well, I’d win in an athletic competition,” Wyatt boasted.
“You’re forgetting the three legged competition back in junior high,” Chris teased referring to a time when Wyatt had teamed up with his best friend, Seth Silberman, and came in dead last because Seth managed to trip them both.
“Not my fault,” Wyatt protested. “He is totally uncoordinated.”
“Well, I still beat you,” Chris reiterated. It was the only time and he was rather proud of it.
Wyatt looked at Chris for several seconds. “I’m sorry.”
“Huh?” Chris looked at Wyatt confused.
Wyatt looked down. “Whatever I . . . he did, I’m sorry.”
“Wyatt, look at me,” Chris commanded.
Wyatt looked at him, wary.
“I came to the past to save you,” Chris reminded him. It was one of the few things Wyatt had managed to learn about it. “You don’t really need to know the details. You don’t really want to know the details.”
Chris is wrong on both accounts, Wyatt thought as he listened to his brother talk. He did need to know the details, because they were part of what was bothering Chris. He did want to know the details, because he didn’t know any other way to understand what his brother was going through.
Not knowing the thoughts in his brother’s head, Chris kept talking. “All you need to know is I could have tried to stop you, permanently, don’t know if I would have succeeded, but I could have tried. I didn’t, because I didn’t just want everyone else safe, I wanted you safe, too.” Chris eyes grew hard as he thought of things Wyatt had done in the other time line. “Don’t get me wrong. If I had failed I would have found a way to stop you somehow. Maybe I would have stripped your powers. I don’t think I could have killed you.”
“Thanks,” Wyatt replied sarcastically.
Chris didn’t really hear as he continued talking. “And I don’t think you could have killed me, not ultimately. Not when it came down to it. So I don’t really know how things would have turned out if I had failed.”
“Chris?” Wyatt called, trying to pull his brother out of his reverie.
Chris looked at Wyatt surprised. “Sorry.”
“That’s okay,” Wyatt informed him. “I just wanted to make sure you remembered where you were.”
“Hard to forget,” Chris replied, his voice touched with irony. “Though I guess that was the point of today. Archemneme wanted me to forget. Instead I remembered. That must have thrown him for a loop.” He turned to look at Wyatt. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” Wyatt asked confused.
“For getting the demon away from me,” Chris told him with a slight smile. “I panicked.”
“You’ll return the favor,” Wyatt confided. “Even if you don’t, you’re my little brother. That’s what big brothers do, look out for little brothers.”
“What?” Chris teased, standing. “Saving you from turning evil wasn’t enough?”
Wyatt looked at Chris. A smile formed on his lips and he started to laugh.
Chris watched him for a moment and then the little smile on his face grew.
Wyatt stood and hugged Chris. “Don’t ever change, little bro.” Wyatt let go of Chris, grinning. He walked toward the doorway to the hall. Once he got there he stopped and turned around. “I forgot to tell you, your psychology teacher called and said he’s flunking you out.” Wyatt gave Chris a Cheshire grin and ran out of the room into the hall.
Chris ran after him. “You little liar.” Chris ran out of the room into the hall just in time to see his brother’s door closing behind him.
“Admit it,” Wyatt told him through the door as he locked it from inside, “I had you for a moment.”
“Open the door,” Chris commanded, hitting the door with his open palm.
“Nope,” Wyatt said, laughing a bit.
“I hate not being able to orb,” Chris said with a scowl.”
Laughing harder, Wyatt admitted. “Right about now, I love it.”
Chris was silent for a moment and then he just turned around and walked back into the living room.
Wondering about the silence, Wyatt called from his locked room. “Chris?”
Chris picked up the phone off the wall. Instead of saying a name and letting the phone dial, he punched in numbers once the phone was one.
“Chris?” Wyatt called, again, from his room, wondering even more about his brother’s silence. “What are you doing?”
Holding the phone to his ear, a smile formed on Chris lips as he replied, “Calling my professor.” After all, one could never be too careful.
The End