Let Me Go

A/N: OKAY. SO THIS IS AN IDEA THAT KIND OF CAME TO ME AFTER LISTENING (AND RE-LISTENING) TO AVRIL LAVIGNE'S 'LET ME GO' WHICH IS A VERY BEAUTIFUL SONG THAT I RECOMMEND TO ALL. WHILE LISTENING, I SORT OF MADE A CONNECTION BETWEEN THE LINES IN THIS SONG AND THE STORY OF CHRIS HALLIWELL. SO I WROTE A SONG FIC. IT'S SLIGHTLY AU AND KINDA DIFFERENT TO MY USUAL SONGFICS; THIS ONE'S SET IN THREE PARTS AND EACH PART FEATURES A FEW LINES FROM THE SONG THAT REFLECT WHAT HAPPENS. WHILE THE FIRST TWO PARTS KIND OF CONNECT IN TERMS OF CHARACTERS, THE LAST ONE DOESN'T. THE MOMENTS ARE MORE CONNECTER TO ONE ANOTHER BY THE LYRICS OF THE SONG. THE FINAL MOMENT IN THE STORY IS ONE THAT I REALLY THINK SHOULD HAVE HAPPENED IN THE SHOW; THE POTENTIAL FOR IT WAS THERE AND I FEEL THE WRITERS REALLY MISSED AN OPPORTUNITY, SO THIS IS ANOTHER THING I'M EXPLORING IN THIS ONESHOT.

THIS ONESHOT ISN'T REALLY A STORY, MORE JUST A REFLECTION ON LOVE'S FAILURES WITHIN THE DARK FUTURE DEPICTED IN CHARMED. AGAIN, THIS IS ONLY MY SECOND CHARMED UNIVERSE FANFICTION AND MY FIRST TIME WRITING CHRIS AND BIANCA, SO ANY CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM ON HOW TO BETTER DEPICT THESE CHARACTERS (OR ANY OTHER CHARACTERS) FOR THAT MATTER WOULD BE GREATLY APPRECIATED.

Disclaimer: I do not own Charmed or anything within the Charmed universe. Anything you recognise does not belong to me.

2026

Love that once hung on the wall
Used to mean something
But now it means nothing

A museum. That was all that was left of his past, his family, his heritage. A freaking museum. The halls the group walked through were cold, devoid of the love the Manor had been full of once upon a time. The house itself was silent, except for the cheerful chatter of the Tour Guide who introduced the group to the exhibits dedicated to the lives and vanquishings of the Charmed Ones, the latter version of them that was (Prue Halliwell was always conveniently left out of the story, only mentioned in accordance to the reconstitution of the Charmed Ones after her death or very rarely when the early days of the first weaker Charmed Ones was mentioned). Chris Halliwell drowned her explanations out; he didn't need her words to tell him the story of his mother and aunts. That was one history lesson he knew all too well.

Chris followed the group into the kitchen, telekinetically flicking the probes aside to prevent them sensing the magic that was innately a part of him and his companion, who muttered a 'thanks'. The kitchen was the same as it had always been, for as long as he could remember, and yet somehow it was different; colder, empty. Everything about it that had meant something to him, that had made it a safe haven from the drama and the demons, now meant nothing to him. Or at least that's what he tried to convince himself as he stared at the table that had once sat in the dining room, where the Halliwell line had shared many a family dinner.

After a brief encounter with a demon guard (easily taken care of), he followed Bianca downstairs, to the basement. This was better. He could count the number of times he had been in this room on just his hands. Thanks to the stories, warnings more like, in the Book of Shadows on the dangers of and past encounters with the Woogyman, he'd mostly just tried to avoid it. Plus the room had always given him the creeps as a kid. It was strange, ironic really, to think that now, the room that had been a source of fear and nightmares as a child was now a safe haven for him and his fiancé. Now, down in the basement, all that was left to do was to wait for nightfall and say their farewells to one another.

He'd always been more verbose and more patient than Bianca. So he let her go first and say goodbye to him the only way she knew how. Somehow this time, everything was just so much more intense, more so than their first time or any other time, when they'd taken comfort in each other after a death or strength from each other either after an attack or before a planned, calculated strike on the enemy. Chris attributed it to the knowledge in both their hearts, that this may be their last moment together; that he might not come back or that she might not be around to meet him and that they'd never do this again.

Once she was finished saying her goodbye, it was his turn. He held her close to him, leaning against the basement wall, drawing invisible patterns on her now clothed shoulder. He hadn't really planned what he'd say and didn't really even know how to start. He'd never actually gotten a chance to say goodbye to anyone; everyone had been ripped from his life before he'd been able to.

"It's not as hard as I thought," he murmured, finally breaking the silence, "to be back here. I mean... I just thought it would be harder. I haven't been here since... I haven't been here in a long time."

She turned her head slightly to look him in the eye, "There's nothing in this house for you anymore Chris. He destroyed all of it; all the happiness and the memories and the love. Only the nightmares linger. At least until we change it."

"I know," he whispered, thinking of the painful memories this house still held (and there were a lot of them) and hoping that he could be the one to restore some of the happier moments to these empty, echoing halls.

They were silent for a moment and Chris grappled with his thoughts, still trying to find the words to say goodbye.

"Don't," Bianca said before he could speak, looking away from him, resting her head on his shoulder, "You don't have to say it again. You're coming back."

He nodded, knowing she could feel the movement, even though they both knew the possibility of him returning to her was slim at best. And even if he did succeed, who knew what this new future would hold for the two of them. Still, knowing this, he just couldn't bring himself to say goodbye.

They sat in silence together, holding onto each other, taking strength and courage from the other's love, pretending as if love was all they needed to sustain themselves, to sustain each other, pretending that maybe this time, love wouldn't fail them and knowing that it wouldn't. And then all too soon, the sun set and the museum closed for the night. It was time.

"Hey," he grabbed her hand as she tried to lead him up the stairs, pulling her against him, "Wait."

Her eyes caught his; earthy brown meeting tree green. Her facial expression softened at the sight of love in his eyes and her mask melted away. Her face bore a softness and vulnerability that only he was allowed to see. He could see his love, mirrored in her own eyes and directed back at him. Even though it was there for all to see, he still felt the need and desire to say it.

"I love you," he whispered earnestly, as if he feared that if he didn't say it then he'd never get another chance.

But she understood; she put her hands on his cheeks, holding his gaze with hers, "I love you too."

They embraced and kissed, clinging to each other, pretending for just a moment that this wasn't it, this wasn't goodbye. Then, they pulled apart, stepping back from one another, rearranging their masks for the outside world and focusing on the mission at hand, both hoping that soon, they could help create a world where love wouldn't fail them.

2004

There isn't one thing left you can say
I'm sorry it's too late

He glared at her black-leather-clad back as she drew the triquetra on the wall, where the portal would open. He knew her, knew that in her mind she had justified her actions, her betrayal. But that didn't mean that he had.

How had he turned her back, was Chris's only question. That had been one thing he hadn't worried about when planning for his journey to the past. He had worried about all other fates for her; death, arrest, even torture. He'd never in his darkest nightmares expected Wyatt to turn Bianca back to the assassin witch she'd been before they'd met.

His glare turned to a stony gaze, and he redirected his focus onto the engagement ring, her engagement ring, on the table in front of him. When he'd thrown it, both he and Bianca had had to fight to keep their masks in place. Not that it was any use. He could read her as well as she could read him. He'd been able to plainly see the regret, sadness and fear in her eyes and her trembling lips, just as he was sure she had seen the vulnerable, hurt, angry boy inside him, in his tearful green eyes and wavering, bitter frown, a look that in his teenage years had been reserved purely for his father.

This wasn't how it was supposed to end. They were supposed to be forever. That's what the ring was meant to represent; forever. He should have known better than to believe that it would, that they would be a forever kind of love. Nothing good in his world lasted forever.

Still... he wished he'd never said it.

"There's nothing here for me anymore."

It was stupid and cruel, aimed only at hurting her. It was a typical Chris response, to lash out, trying to cause as much pain as he could in the person who had upset or hurt him; again a reaction that was until recently, reserved only for his father. The worst part was that he'd meant it. And he still did. They couldn't fix this now. Even if she was only doing it to save him from his brother's wrath (which was still a very big if), she'd still betrayed him and his fragile sense of trust just wouldn't allow him to forgive her easily. Not until she proved she was still on his side. It would take a lot more than a mere 'sorry' to fix this. And it was too late for that now.

He looked around him, not at the room, but the past. It had taken a lot for him to even be ready to come here. He'd had to break free and let go of a lot of painful memories. He'd said goodbye and sacrificed everything to save the world from ever becoming his world. He couldn't let it be in vain. Not even for Bianca.

She finished drawing the portal and turned to him, as if to say it was time to go. But he wasn't ready to leave yet, he wasn't ready to give up his mission and go home to that awful, awful future. He wasn't ready to face the consequences of his actions, to face his brother's wrath. He just wasn't ready to go back to a world where love failed him, over and over again.

2004

There's only one thing left here to say
Love's never too late

Leo Wyatt held onto his son tightly, refusing to believe that with every passing moment Chris was weakening, even though he could see it with his own eyes and feel it in the very depths of his soul. This couldn't be happening, not now, when they were finally about to achieve everything they'd been fighting for, not now, after they had finally fixed their broken relationship. It wasn't fair to either of them.

A stray tear fell from Leo's cheek. A feverish Chris hardly noticed it. Then again, he did have other things on his mind.

"Wyatt..." Chris managed to gasp out, "Save Wyatt."

"I'm going to save you both," Leo promised, even though he knew there was nothing he could do for Chris and that saving Wyatt now would mean saving Chris in the future, "But I'm saving you first."

Chris shook his head weakly struggling to stay conscious and coherent, "No. Wyatt first."

Leo looked at his son, realising that even though he had been preparing to send Chris back to the future, he hadn't said or even though about his goodbye yet. And he had no idea where to begin, especially now, given the circumstances. He could barely sort through the feelings of pride and respect for the young man his son had become (something he was ashamed to say had very little to do with his influence). He had no way of expressing his sorrow and guilt at how they had met in the past and the way he had mistreated Chris. He didn't know how to say he was sorry for his future neglect of his son, which he had every intention of making sure wasn't repeated in the new future Chris had created. And he had no way of expressing the sheer amount of love he held for this man, this strong, loyal, good man.

Chris's breath hitched, dragging Leo back to reality. His eyes widened, 'No, not yet, not yet... Just hold on.'

"Hey, stay with me, buddy," he cried, clutching Chris's hand and squeezing it tightly.

Chris moaned softly, barely conscious now. Leo's heart constricted. It was now or never.

"Chris... come on, buddy, look at me," he said, "Open your eyes."

His eyelids fluttered and Leo smiled, only slightly hopeful at the sight of green.

"That's it," he whispered, knowing Chris didn't have much time left.

"Wyatt..." Chris began.

"Not yet," Leo cut him off, "I can't leave you alone."

"'M okay," Chris mumbled.

"You're more than okay Chris," Leo said, the words coming to him all of a sudden and pouring out of him eloquently, "You're good... you're so good Chris. I'm so proud of who you've become. And I'm not going to make the same mistakes this time. I'm going to be the father you deserve, I promise."

Chris's eyes closed slightly and for a minute, Leo thought it was over. Then his breathing hitched once more and Leo breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm so sorry, for everything. And I know it's probably too late but... I love you Chris," he said.

In a moment of clarity and what could only be described as pre-death strength, Chris opened his eyes, looking directly at Leo.

"Love's never too late Dad," he whispered coherently with such conviction that for a minute Leo thought he was healed and back to normal.

Then Chris closed his eyes for a minute. Before he could say anything else, his breathing hitched ever so softly and then ceased altogether. Leo slumped over his son's body, sobbing. As Chris's body faded away though, a small smile could be seen on his face.

This time, love hadn't failed him. And he was headed to a future where it would never fail him again.

Two goodbyes led to this new life
Don't let me go