Chapter 12: Opposite and Adjacent Views
"Memory potion?" Leo echoed. Next to him, Piper rocked back on her heels.
He sucked his teeth in, grieved that events had rolled so far downhill for Chris to feel driven to such extremes. He stood taller, refusing to return to a world where Chris was a stranger who meant nothing to him. "Chris, you can't. I won't lose you, not like this."
"You're not losing much," said Chris coolly.
Having been subjected to worse spells and potions, Piper was less rattled than Leo. She was more disturbed that Chris' emotions were impeding his judgment, and the slightest provocation could push him off the deep end if she didn't tread carefully. "You're wrong. We'll lose a son if you use that potion."
"Erasing our memories solves the problem today, but what about tomorrow?" Leo said. "Can you live with yourself knowing that you didn't have to do it? I think that deep down, you don't really want to use the potion."
Though Chris didn't shift from his offensive stance, his arm dropped by a fraction.
"Did it ever occur to you that maybe you weren't meant to go it alone?" said Piper. "We found out who you were for a reason." The belief in a higher purpose behind every action, no matter how random and insignificant, was integral to the Halliwell family—a family that Chris was part of. Her future self would have taught him that lesson. "Please give us—me—one more chance."
Chris tried to tune out their pleas, wishing they would stop. He regretted telling them what the potion was for, because once they latched onto o a cause, they never let go. With the element of stealth lost, he wrestled to hold the pieces of his plan together. "Don't tell me what to do, either of you. It's better if you forget."
"Better for who? You?" Leo didn't get how his plan would benefit any of them, Chris included.
"For the future."
He was stubborn to the end, but Leo and Piper were too well acquainted with Chris' personality by now to fall for the "future consequences" smokescreen.
"You can make us forget, but will it stick? The Cleaners tried it before," said Piper. She stepped to the right, and Chris matched her step through narrowed eyes as mother and son began to circle each other. She recalled the nagging feeling that she was missing someone dear to her and if she thought hard enough, she would pinpoint it. "They took Wyatt out of our lives, but we remembered. We got our him back and I guarantee we'll do the same for his little brother."
Other than his rapid blinking, Chris showed no emotion. Piper didn't know what else to try. She had exhausted every conceivable argument, and so had Leo, judging from his deflated expression.
"Don't believe me? I'll prove it to you," she said, readying herself for her riskiest gamble. She fanned out her arms; palms held up flat sideways—the equivalent to disabling her powers. "Go ahead and throw the potion."
"Piper, have you lost your mind?" gasped Leo.
"It's his decision." To Chris, she said, "Hurry up and throw it."
Her dare knocked Chris off balance. Was she... giving him permission to end the standoff on his terms? He couldn't find any hint of deceit in her eyes. This was it, the job he'd come to finish. He raised the vial above his head, ready to throw it. It was simple—Piper had accepted her fate and Leo, should he interfere, wouldn't be difficult to subdue. But his arm wouldn't obey.
He was too weak. Or was it strength? He didn't understand himself anymore. He looked inward, trying to analyze his conflicted feelings.
Leo was right all along. He had no real desire to use the memory potion. It was more of an obligation, the type he was bound to if he pretended to be impartial. Who was he fooling? He liked having Leo in on his secret. Leo, the person he loathed in another lifetime. Chris was positive Piper somewhat cared about his existence, or she wouldn't be wasting her time with him, but he was careful not to get too hopeful on that front.
He'd just have to live with the consequences of his slip-up.
A shudder quaked through his body as he dropped his fist against his thigh.
Piper approached him slowly. "Can't do it, can you?"
"No." He trained his bloodshot eyes on the floor.
He knew what she wanted, and levitated the vial to her. She grabbed it and tossed it upward, blasting it apart with her powers as it fell back down.
"Let's take it to the living room," suggested Leo, relieved that the most harrowing part was over. They had a tough discussion ahead of them that was better conducted sitting down.
"It's getting late," said Chris as if it mattered.
"It's not too late for us," said Piper.
Too weary to protest, Chris took the lead and seated himself on the long couch in the living room. Piper sat on his left and Leo made himself comfortable on his right. Their close proximity unsettled him out; the whole situation had run him ragged and he knew he didn't have it in him to deal with any more setbacks.
Leo massaged Chris on the back. "I'm glad you decided not to use that potion. You had us worried there for a bit."
"Sorry, I wasn't thinking."
"You have nothing to be sorry for, son."
"Chris," started Piper after a pause. "There's been a huge misunderstanding."
He looked at her. "About what?"
"What I said before... it wasn't what it sounded like."
Chris raised his chin, afraid to ask. He'd never considered an alternative explanation. He'd simply assumed the worst.
"I don't hate you, Chris." Voice brimming with emotion, she went on to ensure there was no more miscommunications. "I'm proud to have a son like you."
She was proud of him; she didn't hate him. If he'd been deaf, he could've read the truth in her face. When he passed his knuckles over eyes, they came away moist. Still, part of him struggled to reconcile her turnaround with her earlier words. "I'm confused," he said.
"It wasn't anything you did, Chris. It was me. I had this crazy idea that I'd be a good mom and that my kids would look up to me. I told myself I would never treat a child the way I treated you. Ever since you came into our lives, I've been anything but good." She ground her nails into her lap, ashamed that her excuses were so self-centered.
"I always got that you were watching out for family," Chris broke in. "You don't have to do this to yourself."
"Quit being a martyr and let me finish," Piper snapped. Then her tone softened. "I didn't want to believe you were mine because then I'd have to accept that I failed you as a mother. But that's what happened anyway."
"You're not a bad mom," said Chris quickly. "You were the best."
"Were?"
"You are the best," he said, alarmed at his slip-up. Fortunately, she didn't probe into it, and he wasn't about to burden her with the fate that awaited her fourteen years from now.
"Can you forgive me for what put you through?" asked Piper.
"If you can forgive me for doing the same."
"Of course. Did you have to ask?" Truly, she wasn't mad at him, and she needed Chris to hear it straight from her.
A great weight eased off of Chris' heart. It was great feeling, better than a dream. "Then, yeah," he said. "It's a deal."
She beamed, and Chris gave her a small smile of his own.
"See, Piper? What did I tell you?" said Leo happily. He had kept quiet until then to let them work things out between just the two of them.
She nodded, continuing to gaze at Chris in that loving way he was so familiar with and hadn't seen in a long time.
Leo was on his side and Piper adored him—and that was the problem. He couldn't truly be happy knowing what the future held. If he could have dictated the terms, he could have gained Piper's support without her going maternal on him.
He couldn't determine which was worse—her hatred, or her love. Her hatred had helped him distinguish between Mom and Piper the Charmed One, at the price of being snubbed by her at every turn. On the opposite end, her love wouldn't hurt. Not at first. Not until he grew too attached to her. Then, when he returned to the future, and she wasn't there, he didn't think he could bear it.
At the end of the day, he lost both ways.
Piper saw his crestfallen look. "Chris, honey. Are you okay? Tell us what's on your mind."
That she cared just made it worse. It was cruel that she was destined to die young, and crueler still tell her about it.
Things were moving too fast, and it was time to get control of the situation.
"Not tonight," said Chris, and his eyes burned with unshed tears.
Piper's was disappointed, but knew it was too soon to expect him to bare his soul to them. But Piper could tell something was bothering him, so she pulled him close to her chest, and Leo put his left arm around Chris in a half hug.
Chris hesitated before he relaxed in his parents' embrace. He was tired of fighting his emotions, and he leaned into Piper, tears streaming down his face. He could allow himself to drop his guard for one night, and then he'd redraw the line in the morning, put some distance between them. Not too much—just enough that he could enjoy her company without getting too close. His eyelids drooped as darkness began to envelope him—a warm and inviting darkness.
Piper and Leo disentangled themselves from Chris when his breathing fell into a regular pattern. Leo laid him down gently on the couch and said, "We shouldn't leave him here. I'm going to orb him upstairs."
"Put him in my bed, Leo," Piper replied.
He orbed the three of them to her bedroom. Chris stirred in his sleep, and Piper was quick to drag the quilt and sheets out from under him. She drew the blanket up to his chest, and once he was sufficiently tucked in, she sat on the edge of the bed. She felt drained, but she wasn't prepared to bid him good night yet.
Adjusting to Chris as her son was easier than she thought. Once she got past the shock, it was impossible not to feel overprotective of him. She had so many questions. Was Chris short for something? What were his hobbies besides baseball? What were he and Wyatt like before the latter turned evil?
As she sat there, Leo slipped out of the room. He tried to refrain from turning back—he'd spent more time with Chris, and it was only fair that Piper had him to herself for a while.
Leo woke from his doze in the living room to the smell of waffles wafting through the house. Yawning, he flexed his neck to iron out the knots there. He hadn't intended to sleep the whole night away on the couch; it sort of just happened while he'd been waiting for Piper to come back down. He got up, and as he neared the kitchen, the pleasant aroma grew so strong that he didn't have to sniff deeply to smell it. He was in for a good breakfast.
Due to the hectic pace of their daily routines, Piper didn't bother with homemade breakfasts except on weekends. Sometimes, she made exceptions, and Chris was a very special exception. It hit Leo that this was the first meal he'd had in ages with Piper as a family.
The food was still sizzling, so Leo went to the front porch to fetch the newspaper. He unfurled the paper to scan the front page, found little of interest, and folded it back in half. He'd read the rest over breakfast.
A small black limousine, the type that travelled to and from airports and hotels, drove into view. Leo paid no heed to it until it pulled over in front of the manor, and he guessed who the passenger was before the rear door flung open. Dan emerged from the vehicle and walked on the path leading to the house with an air of purpose while the limo idled by the curb.
Dan stopped at the bottom step. "Hello, Leo."
"Hello." Leo clenched his fingers around the newspaper. " I didn't think we'd get another visit from you in less than twenty-four hours."