Title: Nobody Knows
Summary: Nobody knows about Chris. His secrets, talents, the deep dark thoughts hidden behind his mask. Collection of drabbles and one shots revolving around Chris. Inspired by Pink's song, 'Nobody Knows'.
Rating: T to be safe
POV: Various
Episode: AU Set during I Dream of Phoebe
Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed or smexy Chris. :(
A/N: Ok. This started as a one shot, I swear. And then it kinda mutated. And spawned. Anyway now it's a set of little vignettes and one shots revolving around Chris and inspired by the song 'Nobody Knows' by Pink. AU
It's win or lose, not how you play the game
And the road to darkness has a way
Of always knowing my name
But I think nobody knows, no no
Nobody knows, no no no no
'Nobody Knows' – Pink
Nobody Knows Part One: I Dream of Killing
Christopher Perry Halliwell slouched slightly behind the podium that held the legendary Book of Shadows. A pristine white writing pad was clutched tightly within his left palm, the P3 logo printed in the centre. He had nabbed it on his way over, after all it did belong to him if you took time travel into the equation and he seriously doubted that Piper would miss it. She hadn't missed the case of beer and snack food that he had been constantly consuming, when he had the time. Recently that occurred sporadically at best.
His teeth gently held a blue biro within their grasps and he lazily flicked his right wrist, causing the pages within the Book to slowly turn over. Chris would pause once or twice, halting his movements and staring at a page hoping and willing that some detail would magically appear, a detail that had been amiss the last twenty times he had read the pages.
And each time he would be disappointed. A frustrated growl would leave his throat and the pages would begin to flip again, each moving faster with more force than required. A creak of the stairs caused Chris to halt his movements. His body readied itself for orbing. After a few minutes of silence, he relaxed and continued his study.
The manor was empty and Chris much preferred it that way. Despite managing to remain on the good side of the sisters and Leo, well maybe not the good side; perhaps the neutral side was a more appropriate term, Chris didn't dare push his luck.
He couldn't afford to risk being kicked out again. Chris felt his stomach clench and wave of depression flood his body. Ever since that day, he had been haunted by its events. The anger, the distrust and the pain that his family had inflicted upon him, not to mention the look.
The look of pure hatred that had adorned Leo's face and Chris was sure that Piper's glare wasn't far behind in intensity. Naturally he had managed to keep his emotions in check, call it experience from the future. However, Chris could feel himself cracking.
When he had decided on this plan, he knew it would be difficult, seeing his dead family alive, seeing Wyatt so innocent. He just hadn't accounted for the possibility that his family would grow to despise the very sight of him.
Chris stilled his hand and pages, rereading a paragraph. Still nothing. Sighing he continued moving the pages with his powers, his fingers tensing and twitching slightly in anger. There had to be something, anything within the many pages of wisdom.
The Book was legendary, it was the embodiment of good, and it was supposed to solve everything. Chris felt his teeth clench and the plastic of the biro groaned under the sudden pressure. Why couldn't the book help him now? It managed to solve every other doomsday situation.
It provided help when Barbas attacked; it had produced spells and potions for almost every demon alive. The pages would flip, most likely from outside influence, but none the less, they would continue to move until they had reached an entry that would save the day.
So where was his support? Huh? Where was his guardian angel to flip the pages and show him an entry to prevent the destruction of life as they knew it? A snarl formed upon Chris' face and he wrenched the biro from his lips, throwing it against the wall and watched in satisfaction at the minor damage it caused.
He pulled his hands through his hair, marching away from the podium. Chris grabbed tuffs and began to pull at them in frustration. He needed something. Anything.
Perhaps he had missed his window of opportunity. A sick feeling began to unfurl in his stomach. The Genie fiasco. He had possessed the means, opportunity and motive – the trifecta of a perfect crime for that's what it would have been, a crime. The most heinous of all.
Chris leaned against the attic wall, his head falling forward to hit the wood with a hollow thunk. He should've of done it, a real leader would. But he couldn't. Never. No matter what the Resistance thought of him. He could never kill his own brother.
Flashback
"It's about you feeling like I've let you down somehow! So whatever issues you might have with me, I wish you would just get over it already!" the words left Chris' taut mouth and his breathing was heavy.
Phoebe's hands suddenly clasped, her head bowed and Leo stumbled slightly, off balance. The hatred in Chris' eyes left and he warily looked at his future father.
"Leo?" the words came out foreign to Chris, he hadn't worried about Leo in many years. In fact he hadn't felt any emotion for the absent parent.
A silly grin etched itself onto Leo's face. A laugh bubbled through his lips and Chris began to fear for his sanity. "Of course, I forgive you, man. You don't have to yell! All you had to do was ask." His continued spielfell upon deaf ears as Chris stared numbly at the bottle. He barely felt Leo's arms enclose him and pulled away half dazed. Was it that easy? Could he? If Phoebe could turn Leo into the perfect parent then surely she could solve his problem.
No, he couldn't sink that low. Not even for Wyatt. He scarcely felt Leo's hand thump his shoulder and his fingers enclose about the bone. "I'm here for you buddy."
'Can I get that in writing?' he thought ruefully, fiddling with the ceramic object. Chris barely noticed Leo leaving the room, an anxious Phoebe close on his tail while he continued to gaze at the troublesome pink bottle.
Stumbling slightly he shuffled out of the attic and towards the nursery, supporting himself upon the manor's old walls more often than he would like to admit. A million thoughts buzzed painfully through his head, causing Chris to wince. Turning the final corner, he came upon the opened door and the empty cot. He fiddled with bottle, absently running his fingers over the Arabic markings.
Wyatt was currently up with the Elders, but the magic would still reach him. And Phoebe would have no choice. No one could stop it and no amount of magic would be able to undo it, for no time travel spell had been written and Chris had no intention of disclosing any future information.
In fact he was sure that a few magical beings would breathe a little easier following this day. A wave of disgust travelled through him and a grimace etched itself onto his face. The truth hurt, more deeply than anyone could imagine. It wouldn't surprise him if they tried to kill him after this stunt, and Chris was positive that self-loathing would become his best friend.
Bringing the bottle up to eye level, Chris saw his hand shake slightly. "I wish-" His voice quivered more than his hand, and he lowered the bottle in defeat.
The future, the dark black future it could all be stopped if he just wished. His birthday was less than a year away and Chris was no closer to finding the threat that turned his brother, if there even was a threat to find. Perhaps Wyatt was right; to save the future he had to become the very thing Chris despised.
The path to darkness always seemed to know his name, always seemed to attempt to entice him over to the other side. If he just gave in, all the fighting, all the death it could all be erased.
He cleared his throat. Stronger this time, he raised the bottle once more. "I wish Wyatt Halliwell-" No. He couldn't do it. A dry sob was ripped from his throat and he dropped the bottle as if it was burning, stumbling back. His back hit the wall and Chris slid down it, tears threatening to fall and ignoring the pain surging through his spine. He couldn't do it. Never. He couldn't kill his brother.
End Flashback
No. The thought resounded in his head and Chris pushed himself off the wall, trudging back to the Book. He had time, barely enough but still. He wouldn't become a murderer. Yes he had killed demons, darklighters, witches and assassins a piece, but not children. Never children. And never family.
The Resistance leaders never failed to persist; day after day that Wyatt couldn't be saved, that a day would come when Chris would need to kill brother. Glancing mournfully at the bottle, sitting innocently on the dusty chest of draws that Leo had yet to dispose of Chris felt a pain shoot through his body.
That day had yet to come and Chris prayed it never came to pass. He retook his stance and slowly turned the next page in the Book, a new biro in his mouth and his emotionless mask sealed back in place; and another secret was locked away in the back of his mind.
Nobody knows how close he was to killing, and nobody could ever know.
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