Post by StoryGirl83 on Nov 10, 2011 21:50:24 GMT -5
Chapter Twenty-Eight – Identity
Wyatt was sitting down watching TV. After the day he’d had, he wanted nothing more than to just relax. He started to blink, but stopped. He scooted over on the couch so that he reached up onto the book case and grabbed the remote. He was about to change the channel, when the door opened.
A moment later, Chris entered the front room. “How did things go after I left?”
Wyatt chuckled. “It was just a really strange day. Andrew already knew about magic, which was really odd. And now Nathan’s got a lot to deal with, since he now knows about magic, but I think he can handle it.”
“What about the woman who you were attacking when I found you?” Chris wanted to know.
“Olivia?”
Chris shrugged.
“I don’t think she accepted my explanation,” Wyatt admitted, “but I don’t think she’ll press any harder, mostly because of her own actions. She remembers what she did while she was cursed.”
“And Emily’s brother?” Chris chuckled and shook his head. “Never mind. Emily assured me that he’s fine.”
“He seems to be unwilling to question what actually happened today,” Wyatt commented, deciding to answer anyway. “I like the guy. He seems to have a good head on his shoulders, even if it is a naïve one that doesn’t want to know what’s out there.”
“Anyone else we should worry about?” Chris asked as he reached up onto the book case and pulled out the envelope that Cassia had given him.
Wyatt shook his head. “The police have all sorts of theories, but nothing dangerous I don’t think. And other than being bothered by phone calls trying to find out what was going on inside, Kelly enjoyed the quiet. Since she was the only one inside who actually managed to not know anything that was going on, she’s the least likely to be any trouble. That’s pretty much everyone. How’d it go after you left the museum?”
“Well enough,” Chris assured him. “Mr. Hollis trusts me and Mr. Lawson was willing to try just about anything, so the fact that I was there was pretty much enough for him. Jarod was a slight bit harder, but it was after I helped him that things got weird.”
“Weird?”
Chris nodded. He handed Wyatt the envelope as he sat down.
Wyatt looked down at the envelope and over at the television. He sighed and grabbed up the remote. TV was going to have to wait. He clicked the off button and took the envelope from his brother. “What is it?”
“It’s for Dad,” Chris informed him. “I only looked at a couple of things in there, but I honestly never thought I’d be so thrilled to have a whitelighter tell me what to do.”
“Whitelighter?” Wyatt looked at him surprised. “How’d you manage to run into a whitelighter at a mental hospital . . . or did he come looking for you there?”
“She,” Chris corrected, “and no, she was there already. That demon that switched us around a couple of months ago switched her and some others around about twenty years ago. She wanted my help.”
“And did you help her?”
Chris shook his head. “I tried, but I didn’t really end up being much use to her. Before she left, she gave me this.”
Wyatt pulled out a piece of paper from the envelope and began reading aloud, “This is to certify that Leo James Wyatt . . . is Dad’s middle name ‘James’?”
Chris shrugged. “No idea.”
Wyatt shrugged in return and started over, “This is to certify that Leo James Wyatt, having honorably completed . . .” Wyatt stopped and frowned. “Nineteen-ninety-two?”
“That’s what I read,” Chris agreed.
“She gave dad a forged high school graduation certificate?” Wyatt stared at his brother.
Chris chuckled. “According to her, she didn’t forge anything.”
Wyatt gave his brother a look.
Chris’s grin broadened. “She had the United States government do it for her.”
“And the rest of it is like this?”
“Presumably,” Chris agreed. “I only looked at the birth certificate and the driver’s license . . . did you know Dad doesn’t have one?”
Wyatt shook his head. “Doesn’t he?”
“I don’t think so. At least I remember Mom mentioning having to renew hers, but never Dad and I’ve never seen Dad’s license. Want to join me to bring it to him?”
Wyatt looked down at the diploma in his hand. He chuckled. “Yeah, I want to see Dad react to this. Why’d she do this? Did she say? Or was this the elder’s idea?”
“According to her, it was her idea, but she got permission from the elders at the very beginning.”
Wyatt put the envelope on the coffee table with the diploma on top of it. He looked up at his brother and made a sound for him to continue.
Chris gave him a look. “Are you coming or not?”
Wyatt put the remote on the coffee table and stood up. “Coming, definitely coming. I want to see this.”
Once Chris had stood up he picked up both the diploma and the envelope so that he could put the diploma back in the envelope. “Ready?”
Wyatt nodded.
Chris disappeared in blue and white orb lights. He was quickly followed by his brother. When the reappeared it was in the manor’s living room where their parents were sitting on the couch.
Piper was leaning against Leo. She moved her head enough to look at her sons straight up and down and raised an eyebrow at them.
Not quite sure how else to answer the implied question Chris turned his attention to his dad. “Dad, have you ever met a whitelighter named Cassia?”
Piper frowned at the question.
Next to her Leo sat up a little straighter and considered this. There was silence as Leo tried to come up with and an answer and Piper tried to figure out why that name was familiar.
“She’s not another Natalie is she?” Piper asked, breaking the silence.
“Natalie?” Leo looked at his wife surprised. “I told you that Natalie was just a co-worker.”
“Whose sentences you finished,” Piper reminded him.
“We worked together and Natalie has been gone a very long time,” Leo looked at her confused. “Why would you bring her up now?”
“Because this Cassia is a female whitelighter who the boys think you have reason to know,” Piper announced.
“Actually we don’t . . . do we?” Wyatt looked at his little brother.
Chris shrugged. “I didn’t get the idea that she knew Dad all that well. I’m not even sure she ever met him. I just got the idea that she thought he was done an injustice and she wanted to correct that.” He shrugged. “Considering her own situation, she very well could be in the same situation soon.”
Leo frowned. “She’s in danger of getting her wings clipped?”
“Or having her soul recycled,” Chris confirmed. “This has nothing to do with that, though.”
“Maybe you should . . .”
“Oh!” Leo exclaimed, interrupting Wyatt.
Everyone looked at him surprised.
“Is something the matter, Dad?” Wyatt asked.
Leo shook his head. “No, I just remembered who Cassia is.”
“Then, you do know her?” Piper asked, sounding disappointed.
Leo shook his head. “Not really. I only met her the once, shortly after she died. She’s fairly young. I don’t think it’s even been forty years since she became a whitelighter.”
“Probably not,” Chris agreed. He held out the envelope. “She wanted me to give this to you. She said you’d need it soon.”
Leo took the envelope from him. “I can’t imagine what she’d want to give me. We did only meet that one time and it was a very long time ago.”
“I don’t think it had so much do with you as it did with something you planned to do,” Chris admitted, “but I think you should take it.”
Leo opened it up and pulled out the diploma. He frowned and looked it over. Without saying a word, he handed it to Piper and pulled out another paper. This one was a birth certificate almost identical to the one Piper had altered years before, except this one was whiteout free. Leo handed this to Piper and reached in his hand, again. This time he pulled out a second envelope. His name was written on the front.
While his wife looked over the documents he had handed her Leo pulled out a letter from within the envelope. Silently he read it.
Leo,
I kind of doubt that you remember me. Usually an interrogator has less memory of the interrogation than the person they interrogate. And considering you were a rather kind interrogator there is no blood or gore to make it very memorable to you. My name is Cassia Marie Reynolds. I graduated high school with your wife’s older sister, Prue and Prue’s husband, Andy, among other people. I was, by far, one of the youngest people in the class. As we moved directly after graduation most people I attended school with don’t really know what happened to me.
You met me almost directly after my death in an almost comical car accident. I wouldn’t go using that term for most people, but personally I feel the whole accident was rather bizarre. And the road where it happened was rather strange, too, but I think that’s just because of how the mountain was shaped.
As I am sure that you don’t want to hear how it is that I died driving a car at under fifteen miles per hour, I will attempt to get to the point. Your wife does not know this, and until I am given leave to tell her, cannot know this, but I worked at The Manor for almost twenty years. During that time I became integrated into the lives of many of my co-workers as well as my employer, your wife that is. I have seen how well you handle running P3 and how much you care for your students, both the magical ones at magic school and the nonmagical ones in various other settings. I have seen the results of your lessons with your nephew, Hank, and know how much that means to him.
I also have seen that despite all that, this is not your calling. You, like all whitelighters, past, present, future, were called to help people and you are doing that, but this isn’t the way you were called to help them. It has come to my attention that you wish to go back to medical school. We both know that won’t be easy. As far as I know, you have studied medicine since 1942, eighty-five years ago. It’s changed a bit since then. While I’m not in contact with her, my oldest sister, Ash, is the chief physician at a hospital in Sacramento, so I have a little bit of knowledge about that.
Then, there’s the age issue. Forgetting your actual age of one-hundred-and-three and your physical age of somewhere around forty, the age you portend to be is almost fifty-three. No one really gets into medical school at fifty-three. It’s not as if you can assure them that you will even live through all those years of college and internship. To be fair though, no one can actually assure them that, and your real age aside, you’re actually not that old, especially your physical age.
Considering you plan to attend the local college for at least the premed, I know at least three people there, nonmagical so don’t worry about my influencing them with knowledge of who you are, who would love to have you there. One of them, I admit, will be rather influenced by whom he believes you are. He would never have been born if it had not been for “your grandfather”. His own grandfather would have died the same day you did had you not been there. I believe you met several years ago at the reunion.
With those influences in place, all you need is proper identification. I know that Piper made some alterations to your birth certificate and you have used it to get various documents made, such as a passport. I decided to get you a whole new set of documents, some are more or less duplicates of stuff you already had . . . but now your birth certificate is registered with the government and can actually be verified if someone bothers to check. I wasn’t sure if you had a driver’s license, but I couldn’t find one, so I got one made for you . . . I hope you don’t mind. I took the test for you.
Leo reread the last sentence and chuckled. He didn’t know why she was so determined to do this, but it amused him that she had gone to the trouble of taking a driving test for him. He reached into the envelope and pulled out the driver’s license. Like the birth certificate, it listed his birth date as May 6, 1974. At that point it had been fifty years since his birth and thirty-two since his death. Since it was also the date he had been using since he married Piper, he figured it worked well enough.
He looked back at the letter and continued reading.
I know the circumstances, as much as most anyone who bothers to pay attention Up There, behind how you ended up clipping your wings. I cannot imagine being given the choice between my family and my charges. It’s been almost thirty-nine years since I’ve played any part in the lives of my family . . . well, other than that one time, but I actually didn’t realize he was my nephew, so I think I can be forgiven that. I think it must have been very hard, but at the same time I guess you kind of eased into that situation and things had changed in ways I don’t think anyone could have predicted.
I want you to have the chance to become the doctor you were meant to be and I think when it became clear that you were not going to be a whitelighter again, certainly not soon, perhaps never again, they should have done something to ease things for you and so I told them.
Among the items here are various phone numbers to “verify” the information held within them. These are all valid numbers of people who either know you or at the very least, know of you. Many of them are former charges of yours, mostly magical, but there are a few of them who are nonmagical, future whitelighters who know about magic or people who have come in contact with you through your wife’s work as a Charmed One. If you ever feel your world is rather small, feel free to pull out these numbers and give someone a call. All of them know enough about you that you don’t have to pretend anything.
There is another matter of which I wish to apprise you. It is more on the track of who am and little to do with you. This is another thing I need to you refrain from mentioning to your family for the time being. As things stand right now, I rather doubt I will be able to do much about it right now. If things do not change soon, though, I may have to give in. Until about two months ago I was in the body of a young woman whose face you actually would recognize. It was as her that I worked for your wife at The Manor and it was as her that I did my best to watch my charges despite a lack of my whitelighter powers.
That was enough while magic was gone, but as the time grew closer when it would be returning, I knew my powers would be needed. Things happened that I had to deal with and by the time they were dealt with your family had encountered the demon responsible and not only fix the problems he had given you, but put the five of us back in our own bodies. Thank you for that. That has brought with it another set of problems, but I will find a way to deal with them in time.
In the mean time I have another whitelighter helping me with my charges. As he does not want to be named, I’ll leave his name out of this. Unfortunately in the turmoil of everything getting put back and the problem that has caused me getting used to having my powers again and dealing with . . . issues, not everything has gone as it should. One of my charges was in mortal danger after a demon attack and nearly died. I was in a situation where I could not leave without exposing magic and by the time I managed to get a message to someone, all he could do was stand by and watch for the most part. He said he was able to get close enough to my charge once and was only able to heal my charge for about a second before he had to stop because of the potential for magical exposure.
I have a feeling you wouldn’t have cared much at that moment in time about magical exposure, because the charge in question was your son, Wyatt. And that is what you must not tell your wife or family. I have heard enough to be weary of how I tell them that I am their whitelighter. No, I am not your wife’s whitelighter, but she does have one. Assuming I get out of here and everything works out all right, I will tell them myself as soon as possible. I was assigned to be Wyatt whitelighter when he was born. Since he was your son, some Up There felt you could not be objective. However, I was also told for the most part not to interfere, unless absolutely necessary, until or unless he, and any other of his generation, began to fight evil and protect the innocent. There were occations when that did happen, but for the most part I am convinced that those who assigned me this task were blinded idiots . . . perhaps you shouldn’t mention that part to anyone. I rather like being a whitelighter and helping my charges. I’m just a little mad at them right now, because they refuse to help me in this situation. Even my boss, for I cannot call him my mentor . . . he’s got less experience than I do with these things . . . has been ignoring me in this and usually I can count on him to help me out.
At best you have a whole lot to think about and a great deal more tools to use in order to get into medical school when the time comes. At worst, I have bored you out of your mind and you are going to hunt me down for an apology. If that is the case, sorry . . . well, not really, but I can make a good show of it.
Best of luck,
Cassia
Leo folded the letter back up and put it into the envelope. He looked up and saw that three sets of eyes were on him.
“Are you going to share?” Piper wanted to know.
Leo shook his head. “Not for now. Later I will tell you about the letter, but not yet.” He looked at his sons. “Thank you for this. She’s right, I will need it. It was good of her to do this and quite a surprise.”
Piper opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it. She would talk to him later. She stood up and walked over to Wyatt. She surprised him by pulling him into a hug. “I’m glad you’re all right.”
Wyatt hugged her back. “Thanks, Mom. Chris said you made the potion I needed.”
“I made it,” she agreed, “but Chris and that odd witch girl got the ingredients we needed. I don’t know when I might have found what I needed, let alone actually located the ingredients if it hadn’t been for her. Do you two need something to eat?”
The two brothers looked at each other and shook their heads. “Thanks, but we’re good,” Wyatt assured her. “I think right now, bed sounds good. I was going to watch some TV, but it’s been a really long day.”
“Be careful, boys,” Piper cautioned them.
“Don’t worry, Mom,” Chris suggested.
Wyatt chuckled. “As if that ever works. Love you, Mom, Dad,” he told his parents before he orbed out.
Chris hugged both of his parents before he said he own good-byes and orbed back to the apartment. It had been a very long day and he thought he might want to go to bed, too.