Characters: Wyatt Halliwell & Leo Wyatt
Word Count: 1,549
Rating: Er.. PG (by Aussie standards - can't think what it is elsewhere)
Author's Notes: Teenage Wyatt (a)
Summary: While Leo tries to get his son to study, Wyatt is more interested in playing magical games.
“The first Wendigo was a mortal who removed and ate his lover’s heart when she betrayed him. His heart turned to ice, and he became a monster. It appears as a normal person by day… Wyatt, are you listening to me?” Leo asked, looking up from behind the dais.
Halfway across the attic, Wyatt stood alone, consumed by the energy ball he was creating in his hand. Tossing it into the air with the left, he flicked the fingers of his elevated right hand at it, watching it explode with a bright spark of light. Satisfied with the result, he started the routine over again.
“Are you listening to me?”
“Then what did I just say?”
“Wyatt!” Wyatt parodied, never breaking from his game of tossing and exploding energy balls.
Leo sighed, putting his hands on his hips, unamused at the mockery. “About the Wendigo.”
“Eats hearts... day lover... etcetera… etcetera,” Wyatt said, tossing up a new ball with each phrase.
“Well at least the words sank in, even if the analogy is wrong,” Leo said, gently tapping his son’s head in passing. Wyatt pulled away roughly, deterred only momentarily from his game by this minor physical interference.
“I don’t need to know their favourite film or what they like for dinner, dad. They’re all power-hungry; they all make frequent visits to us. I just need to know how to defend myself.”
Taking a seat on the couch, Leo looked up at him. “If you concentrated on the theoretical as much as your little magic tricks, you might actually learn a thing or two about that.”
Wyatt shrugged. “I can wing it.”
“And come home with a dozen cuts and bruises in the process.” Wyatt stopped, glancing slyly towards his father. Leo smirked, having finally caught his attention. “Yes I know you’ve been skipping classes again. I still have my informants at Magic School.”
Wyatt grimaced at the reminder that his father had once been in charge of Magic School, not to mention his Aunt Paige. They all seemed to have little spies roaming around the place.
“There’s no point in sticking around to hear some boring teacher blab about things you already know.”
“Well,” Leo started, leaning back against the couch. Glancing to the side he saw one of Wyatt’s school books still sitting where he’d dumped it once he’d come home. “If you’re not going to listen to me or attempt to learn any ‘magical’ theory today, the least you could do is pay attention to your regular schoolwork. You haven’t touched that book since you brought it home.”
Wyatt sighed, looking away. He always hated it when his parents got on his back about doing schoolwork. He didn’t find it at all enjoyable, unlike his younger brother who wanted to prove he was better than Wyatt at something. That little tattle-tale probably was the one to dob him in to his parents about cutting class.
“So?” Leo pressed.
Indignantly, Wyatt orbed the book into his hand, holding it up to his father and raising his eyebrows as he waved it. Smiling, Leo pushed himself up from the couch. Heading towards the doorway, Leo paused with his hand on the door and looked over his shoulder at Wyatt.
“And no more magic,” he warned.
Wyatt nodded agreeably, watching as his father closed the door. He lifted the book towards him, looking at the face.
“A history of Sparta. Fun,” he said dryly.
Lowering the book he looked back around the room. His eyes falling on the weapon chest, he dropped the book onto the table in passing and headed towards the large box. Kneeling before the wooden box, he played with the latch until it loosened and opened, lifting the heavy lid high and peering inside. No this was much more fun than studying. Reaching inside he pulled out two Sais, holding them in the air and noting how they looked like little tridents in his hands. He stood, walking back to the spot he had occupied before, facing the door in case anyone came in.
“Take that!” he cried, manoeuvring himself into an attack position, one arm thrust forward and the other high in the air.
Swinging his arm down to place next to the other, he turned his hands inwards and crossed the points. Gently he unwrapped his fingers from the handles, pulling away slowly, the two Sais levitating in the air by themselves. Smiling to himself, Wyatt moved his fingers and watched the Sais telekinetically move before him, the metal clinking as they clashed against one another.
“Teenage mutant ninja Wyatt, teenage mutant ninja Wyatt,” Wyatt sang softly to himself before breaking into a fit of giggles.
Concentrating all his energy, Wyatt flattened his hands and pushed a telekinetic wave towards the sharp objects. They span quickly, wildly, before flying straight for the door, embedding themselves in the wood. Wyatt looked at what he’d done interestedly, thankful that the door had been closed. Dangerous weapons in the hallway walls would not look as inconspicuous. Looking back towards the chest he went to find something else to play with. Nunchakus. Perfect.
Lifting the handle, he let the other dangle by the chain. He hadn’t ever tried these before, but by all accounts of Bruce Lee movies they looked like fun. Trying to twist and throw them how he remembered seeing, he did little more than smack his elbows and bruise his hands. Frowning, he held the weapon out before him and studied it judiciously. Figuring out a solution, he removed his hands, letting the Nunchakus float just as the Sais had. Lifting his left hand he moved it in a circle, watching as the handle on the left swung vertically on the end of the chain. Copying the move with his right, he discovered he got the same result. He took a step back, realising he was just inches from being smacked in the face by the long handles. As long as he didn’t stand too close, he’d be able to use them without giving himself any physical ailments.
“Wax on, wax off,” he snickered, alternating between his left and right hand, the handles circling in rhythmic motion.
Sweeping it up over his shoulder, he tried to grab it with the opposite hand. It was a tough process, but after several attempts he managed to grab it and bring it back around to the front again. Trying to do it faster he found he lost control of the device. It spun frantically back towards one of the old lamps, wrapping around the neck and bringing it crashing to the floor. Wyatt cringed, looking at the door and waiting for someone to come in. Thinking he hadn’t alerted anyone to his games, Wyatt began to telekinetically lift a sword from the chest. The door opened.
The sword dropped back into the chest as Wyatt released his hold on it, orbing himself to the couch and quickly sweeping the book up from the nearby table. He quickly opened it, glancing over at his father standing in the doorway, thankful that the points of the Sais had not come through on the other side of the door. Remembering the Nunchakus, he looked over to the broken lamp and quickly swept his hand towards it, telekinetically shifting the evidence of his non-studying under the table.
“Everything okay up here?” Leo questioned further.
“Yup,” Wyatt said, pretending to focus on his book.
“I heard a noise.”
“Probably the neighbours,” Wyatt said, tossing his head towards the window.
Leo scrutinised his son, noting his dishevelled appearance. He knew a crashing sound from the attic was likely going to be Wyatt not ‘the neighbours’. He surveyed the room, trying to find out what had fallen.
“Is it?” Wyatt asked innocently, looking up. “What?”
“I don’t know,” Leo said, screwing his face up.
“Well unless Chris came in and took something, I don’t know. I was too engrossed in this.”
Still examining the room, Leo moved towards Wyatt, pushing the book towards his son and looking at the cover.
“Reading it upside down? Must be a new skill you developed,” Leo joked.
Wyatt brushed a hand back through his hair. “I took a minor break. I was just going back to it.”
“Sure,” Leo said disbelievingly. He looked towards the window. “I can’t see any damage.”
“I wasn’t fighting demons, dad,” Wyatt said, trying to cover up what he had been doing.
“Good,” Leo said, gently patting the top of Wyatt’s head. He knew he hated it. Reaching down with his other hand he turned the book around the right way. “Just make sure you finish that chapter before dinner.”
Wyatt watched his father leave again, the Sais in the back of the door making a reappearance as he closed it. Wyatt knew he was going to have to clean this mess up. Just so long as no-one noticed the marks in the back of the door, or the broken lamp, he wouldn’t get into any trouble. Quickly doing what he could to cover his tracks, he sat back down and opened up the book, becoming more immersed in the destruction they were causing than his own. He hadn’t realised til now history could be fun.
Comments are appreciated. I'm a comment whore (a) Enjoyness.