Wyatt woke up in his own bed, thankfully alone. Maybe the weekend had all been one crazy dream. Isabel couldn't have been a cranky pregnant woman. And he definitely wasn't gay and obsessed with sex. Okay, maybe the second part was true. But the images in his memories were too vivid and real to have been a dream.

He groaned and yanked his pillow over his face. It might have been more bearable if he'd stayed in his room, but no, he had to go out and socialize. And he had . . . with Peter! And with Link -- Troy! He was never going to be able to look them in the eyes again.

Then yesterday he'd run into Chris at the Perk who seemed to be himself except for thinking that his brother was evil. Wyatt winced. He hadn't really hit on his brother, had he? Killing himself was becoming more and more attractive.

He'd gone to to Caritas last night and hit on Anders. He was never going to hear the end of it. He contemplated skipping class and wondered if attempting to kill himself would be a good excuse for missing school.

[Mostly establishy, but open to taunt the big gay whitelighter.]
When Bel had destroyed the spellbook and ended the possession of Phoebe, Lana, and Marie, all their spells had worn off. Including the one that had turned Wyatt into a sugar glider.

So now he was human again. Sleeping. Naked. And snuggling against Anders in his bed.
After a busy weekend of demon-saving and alien-smiting, Wyatt decided he should fill his mother in on what had been going on. So he picked up his phone and dialed her number.

[For phone call to [livejournal.com profile] cookinggeek but also open.]
Wyatt had handwavily borrowed the Book of Shadows from Chris and was flipping through its pages as he munched on a bowl of noddles.

No, he wasn't idly looking for information on how to possibly summon a Whitelighter.

Or any spell he could use to break up a couple.

Why would he do that?

[ooc: door and post are open, though my email is being a cheap h0r right now and I may not get pings immediately.]
Wyatt woke up and peered blearily around, momentarily confused and having no idea where he was. He was on the floor. Not his floor. His head was throbbing and his stomach was definitely rolling.

He pushed himself up and tried to look around. When he spied the empty bottles and glasses strewn about on the floor, some memory started to return. Anders. Bridge. Ambrosia. Space vodka.

Bridge and Anders were in their beds and his clothes were still on. That much was a comfort, at least.
Wyatt couldn't sit still, though he did try not to pace as he waited for people to show up so Tannim could open the portal to the Underworld.

[For [livejournal.com profile] bridge_carson, [livejournal.com profile] cantjossme, [livejournal.com profile] futurebucs_star, [livejournal.com profile] izzyalienqueen, [livejournal.com profile] neurotic_witch, [livejournal.com profile] sonofdragons, [livejournal.com profile] threeweapons, and [livejournal.com profile] wannabehunter. Hanging out in same chat at last night, but mass coordination is not necessary. ;)]
Two cats, one black, one white, stared at Wyatt from his bed. He'd taken them from his aunt's room after she'd left with Belthazor since someone needed to take care of them.

He just hoped Tannim liked cats.

[Open, wheee.]


Wyatt Halliwell

June 2013



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