abraxaslogs | [open/closed] but I ignore things and I move sideways

Chris instantly understood. Or at least though he understood. It was the same thing with Wyatt. "Let me guess, your brother got all the cool shit and you wanted to see what it was like? Yeah, I know the feeling." Never being the favorite. Always being compared to your older brother. By everyone. Not just your family, which was bad enough, but literally everyone? And always, always falling short?

"So, what's the verdict?" Chris thought he knew the answer. It was awesome. Everything Wilhelm had wanted. And yet, it really was only awesome when your older brother had it and you wanted it. Because ultimately? It wasn't about that. It was about someone paying attention to you. Seeing you, as you. And they couldn't do that if you were still hiding behind your older brother.

"I know this is .....not really real? But, I think it's only fair to warn you I can't actually drive. " That was the thing about being half angel. You really didn't need to learn to drive a car. "And yeah, It's kind of a normal day. Back home we didn't even lock the door. Locked door? Means broken door. Better just let the demons in and save the front door from destruction.....and just hope that you're not like, stuck in the shower."

Edited 2024-10-13 22:40 (UTC)

While he doesn't confirm Chris's guess that he suffers from least favorite child syndrome, the silence with which he pins his stare to the road forming ahead answers him loudly enough. Erik was the golden child, while Wilhelm stumbled around in his perfect shadow. He never resented his brother for it — he adored him. Instead, he internalized it. Inside him, even the smallest criticism from his mom, the most glancing comment from his dad, metastasized into the anxiety that he would never be good enough.

"The verdict?" He musters a little grin. "It's even better from the driver's seat."

Too bad Chris can't drive. Not that Wilhelm knew how to drive either when he first recreated the Ferrari in the Horizon. He'd had to teach himself through trial and error. Now he frowns over Chris's explanation of demons.

"They sound annoying. What do they want, anyway?"

And that was the difference between Wilhelm and Chris. One of them at least. While they both weren't the favorite, Chris resented it. Chris felt abandoned by everyone who ever cared about him and absolutely resented Wyatt for getting everything he did. For being perfect. Wilhelm's was slightly more healthy in that he never plotted to try and smother his big brother as a toddler.

"I guess I'll have to take your word for it but, it is pretty nice in the passengers seat too."

Chris eyed the road and the interior of the car. It was. Nice. In a very 'I'd have to sell all my organs and maybe I'd be able to afford it' kind of nice. And if his brother had one? Did Wilhelm swim in his money in his free time? Or maybe his brother won the lottery? ....or robbed a bank? Hitman for the mafia?

"Annoying is a good word for it. Usually just to kill us before we kill them. Take control of the house. It's a power game, like cosmically treading water. No one side can win. But, we both keep at it anyway. We all have our roles. Even if they're stupid."

Chris paused.

"Is your brother a mafia hitman?"

Wilhelm starts to make a don't be stupid face, but then he decides to lean into Chris's assumptions. Affecting lethal seriousness, he slides a warning look up and down his passenger.

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you."

And if he punctuates this statement by swerving sharply to the right, then it's just part of the joke...

The thing about driving in the Horizon is that it's only so big across, and it's crowded with everyone's creations. The road, which builds itself as Wilhelm drives, serpentines between domains and through the forests and fields other Summoned have surrounded themselves with. Before he leaves, he'll take care to undo the roads, but until then he cuts across everyone's imagined landscapes with breathtaking speed. As if by flying fast enough, he might shake off the sadness that clings to him.

"What about you, are you, like, a demon hunter?"

Now Chris? Chris is a terrible liar. He's a prolific one, but practice in his case does not make perfect. Wilhelm? Isn't that much better than Chris is. Still, he laughs and goes along with the joke. If he doesn't want to tell him, that's fine. It wasn't like Chris was really anxious to tell him everything either. Or anyone really.

"Ahh, you're a mafia hitman in training then. I'll have to be careful." He pauses as he thinks about how to answer Wilhelm's own question, watching the different domains and fields fly by.

"Eeeeh kind of? I'm a witch. Well half witch." And the other half? Well, Chris did not mention that part. "And yes, witch is a gender neutral term."

He likes Chris better for folding into his joke, accepting it as truth even though it obviously isn't. He doesn't really feel like getting into all of that right now. For one thing, his royal title is a piece of his old life — it has nothing to do with him anymore. For another, after crying and tearing his way through Kell's roses, he doesn't have the energy for dredging up heavy things.

That's what the car is for. Letting him be weightless. He frowns at the road ahead.

"How can somebody be half witch?" It's not like witch is a race or nationality or something. Is it?

Chris knows what it's like to not want to answer questions. To avoid telling the truth and opening up wounds like playing hopscotch over sinkholes. Usually he was pretty good at it. Or at least good at avoiding the question, redirecting, or simply acting like a sketchy shit. The problem came when people asked him point blank. Then? Well, that part needed more practice.

And Wilhelm's question? It was a good one. "I suppose I deserve that one. Normally, you're either a witch, or you're not. It's kind of like a species. You cross a witch with another witch or a regular human, you get a full witch. You cross a witch with another kind of magical being and you get a half witch." Vague enough? "Interbreeding isn't really allowed normally." Did he look sketchy?

So, what Wilhelm is getting out of this is that Chris is also half some other kind of magical being, and he's not all that eager to share what exactly. As he flies down the road, his thoughts turn to Lucifer, who had concealed his true identity from him for months — who was so prickly about the reputation chained to his name, the role assigned to him by centuries of stories.

Wilhelm can't help but wonder what Chris is hiding, but he doesn't want to pry. Not unless the guy gives him a reason to be suspicious.

"You know, it doesn't really matter what you are, or what you're supposed to be. It doesn't matter here. You're just Chris, like I'm just Wilhelm."

"You say that like you believe it." Chris might have believed him more, if his entire life hadn't revolved around who and what he was. If everything in his life wasn't about being a Halliwell, or Wyatt's little brother, or what his father was. Or if he hadn't been killed because of all those things. It was hard to believe that he could just be him.

That he mattered. Not because of what he was but because of who he was as a person. So, Chris looked more than a little skeptical, but he wanted to believe him. His own belief was just falling a little short. "It sounds like you speak from experience." Idly, he wondered how long it took him to come to that conclusion, and more idly, how many laps they could go around the horizon before they started repeating scenery.

"I do."

It serves as a response to both: he believes it, and he speaks from experience. He leaves it at that for a minute, soaking in the scenery as it slips past, letting the steady thrum of the stereo fill in the gaps.

"Coming to this world is kind of like getting to start over. You're not defined by what happened before. Like...my parents had my whole future planned out for me. It didn't matter what I wanted, they didn't care." His fingers tense around the steering wheel. "But now, I get to choose."

Chris can choose too. Hadn't he said he thought he was dead back in his world? He thought he'd screwed everything up. It's hard, hauling around mistakes you can't go back and fix. For months, Wilhelm had mourned how everything broke between him and Simon. He wallowed in daydreams about what he would say to him if he ever saw him again. A shattered heart isn't the same as a shattered life, but...even if Chris has nothing to return to, he could find something here.

"When I got here I thought that since I was alive again....I could go back. Just. Not be dead." Was it weird the dispassion with which he said that? Like, have you tried turning it off and on again? "But....I kind of like it here. I like the people here. I like that life isn't so hard."

He wasn't there completely. Not yet. Part of him still wondered if he could go home, what would happen. Could he fix things? Could he make everything alright again? But he'd also started a life here. A real life. One that was his and no one else's.

"It's kind of nice not having to exist for other people, isn't it?" Chris still wasn't sure he could ever escape the fact that he was half-whitelighter. It was a fact that reared its head almost every moment of his life. But maybe there was a difference between ignoring it and accepting it.

Wilhelm hums in agreement. It's nice, being his own person. It was a long journey that brought him there.

"There's nothing wrong with living your own life."

He felt guilty about it for a long time. Guilty for not wanting to go back to his old life. Guilty for disappointing his parents again, despite the anger burning him down for how his mom loved the family's reputation more than she loved him. Guilty, most of all, for letting Erik down after he vowed to follow in his footsteps the best he could.

Sometimes he still does. But he's made his choice, and he would never choose differently.

"I don't know if it's possible for me to live my own life but, I'm sure going to give it one hell of a try."

It was that damn half whitelighter thing, rearing its head. Somehow, it always came down to that. Or was it because Chris let it come down to that? Because he'd refused to accept that part of himself kicking and screaming to the point where it was actively harming him?

And Chris? Chris felt guilty too. For finally existing without Wyatt. Not existing for Wyatt. And everyone else he hurt. For just enjoying himself, figuring out about himself without. Everything else. He was supposed to fix things. Wasn't he? Did that change because he was dead?

"Listen, I know we're in different territories, but. If you ever need a friend, just call my name. I'll hear. I can't....get to you unless it's in the Horizon but. I'll come."

Was that weird? That was weird right? He really wasn't good at this guardian angel/whitelighter thing.

He reaches over to land his hand on Chris's shoulder for a reassuring squeeze. His eyes flicker from the road to lock on him. Yeah, he gets it. He's been trying like hell for two years.

Strangely, he thinks of Lucifer again, who has heard Wilhelm's distress from afar and come swooping in. He laughs to himself, and it turns into a wicked grin. Well, mischievous, at least.

"If you're trying to be my guardian angel, you're too late. I've already got the devil himself on my side. But...I could use a friend." He'd just lost one, after all. "Same to you, okay?"

Chris could message him, if he wanted. For now, they'll leave all those heavy things in the rearview mirror as they loop around the shifting landscape of the Horizon — without ever circling back to the fading rose garden.

[open/closed] but I ignore things and I move sideways

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