This is a two shot story, centering on Piper and Chris's relationship as mother and son as well as Chris and Bianca. It takes place a little bit after "Chris-Crossed". For any of you who read Fragments, I'm working on that, I swear! I just had to get this song and story out of my head first; it wouldn't leave me alone! Enjoy, and reviews would be much appreciated!
Disclaimer: I don't own Chris, Bianca, or anything from Charmed, nor do I own Dido's song "See the Sun". Song lyrics will be centered, bold, and italicized.
"Damn it!"
Chris furiously threw the sacred Book of Shadows to the floor with irreverence, and proceeded to kick the floor with all his might, rubbing scuff marks onto his shoes.
"Shit." Knocked over candles had caused the rug to catch fire, and he frantically tired to stamp it out. Failing miserably, he quickly thought up of the first rhymes he could –
From angry gestures come this fire
The need to extinguish very dire
This fire feeding on rug's crease
Cut me some slack and cease!
The fire was instantly put out, although the rug was still considerably burned. Chris grimaced; that was Piper's favorite rug, if he remembered correctly.
Oh, he'd definitely get grounded for this back home.
But right now he wasn't home, and since Bianca –he was alone. All alone in this house of strangers.
Alone with the damn Elders who wouldn't let him say goodbye to the woman he loved! Loves, he reminded himself. Bianca was gone –but only in the future. He could save them from that world, save her, save Wyatt.
It was all just too much; every emotion he had pent up all his life assaulted him as he collapsed onto his knees, sobbing uncontrollably. All the energy he had possessed earlier was gone. Now, he just felt weak and fragmented. Another part of him was dead now.
Slowly, one by one, all of his loved ones had died. Piper, Paige, Phoebe, Darryl, Sheila, D.J., Melinda, Penelope, many Resistance members, and now Bianca. Wyatt, too, was lost in a way, but the lingering part of the big brother Chris remembered gave him hope.
Chris had started to think that he was losing his humanity, that his forced calm and attempts to stay collected and emotionless was causing him to lose himself. He remembered how, under grey November skies and sharp wind, he hadn't cried. Unlike his father's anguished sobs or his brother's silent tears, his eyes had remained painfully dry during his mother's funeral. He had already used up all his tears crying over his mother's dying body as he'd cried out to his father, brother, aunts, anybody, to come and heal her. To save her.
When he had realized that nobody was coming, rage and hatred had taken over Chris like a virus. His previous reluctance to use magic forgotten, he had immediately orbed down to the Underworld, found his mother's murderer, and slaughtered the demon and his family. Only his merciless eyes displayed any emotion as he'd watched them die.
Eventually, Wyatt had come, apologizing for not coming earlier; he couldn't get out of class. But when he saw a shaking Chris covered in blood, kneeling next to his mother's prone body, Wyatt had rushed to her side and attempted to heal her. Once he had realized that it was no use, he had diverted his attention to his brother, who silently sat there, staring ahead with glazed eyes.
Chris had never cried, until now.
His thoughts were interrupted when he heard footsteps stomping up the stairs. Not just any shoes; the familiar sound of Paige's stilettos. Chris orbed out just as Piper opened the door to an empty room.
"It looks like someone attacked while we were gone," Paige observed, gingerly placing the Book of Shadows in its rightful spot, keeping her finger in the page it had been opened to. The Book had been upside down, its pages bent, but it was definitely open.
Piper noticed this and frowned. "So it wasn't an attack. A demon couldn't have opened the book." Stiffening slightly, she noticed the candles on the floor and the burnt rug.
That was my favorite rug. Her frown deepened. Candles, burnt rug, opened Book of Shadows –
"Paige? What spell is on the open page?"
Her youngest sister opened the Book of Shadows with a raised eyebrow. She met her eldest sister's eyes and turned it around.
"It's the 'To Summon a Spirit' spell."
Piper nodded, understanding now. "It's Chris. It's got to be. He must have tried summoning Bianca, and when it didn't work, he –"
"Trashed our attic?" Paige finished dryly. "But why wouldn't he be able to summon Bianca?"
The eldest sister sighed. "When Prue –died, they hadn't let us summon her, and still won't, even now. They say we aren't ready."
Paige nodded sympathetically. "That must have been horrible for you and Phoebe." She turned around and, not finding who she was looking for, frowned. "Where is Phoebe?"
"Over here." Phoebe's strained voice came from the coach, her head in her hands.
"What's wrong?"
Phoebe grunted in reply, attempting to expel the overwhelming emotions from her. When she felt fairly calm, she answered, "You're right, Piper. It is Chris. I mean, usually I can't feel anything off him. But now –I can feel everything, and even the backwash is giving me a migraine."
"Someone needs to talk to him! He has a right to mourn, but not by destroying our attic or doing something stupid that could piss someone off and endanger us and Wyatt!" Piper exclaimed, throwing her hands up.
Both of her younger sisters stared at her pointedly.
"What?" Piper demanded, feeling unnerved by the suggestive looks her sisters were giving her, "You want me to go?"
Phoebe and Paige nodded enthusiastically.
"Why me?" Piper complained, "Why not Phoebe? She's the empath!"
"What, do you wantme to faint? I already have a headache, thanks." Phoebe retorted.
Paige added, "And you're the oldest sister and the only mother, so you'll know what to do to calm him down."
"WellI'd calm Wyatt down by picking him up, making shushing sounds, or giving him his teddy bear. Somehow I don't think that'll work with Chris."
"Oh, quit your whining and just do it!" Paige scolded, rolling her eyes dramatically.
Something akin to disgust possessed her face for a moment before she finally caved. "Ugh, okay, fine, fine, I'll do it. But we need to find out where he is. Phoebe, get the scrying stuff out."
Chris grinned in satisfaction as he watched the demon scream in agony, merciless flames licking its body until it combusted into ash. He couldn't stop; athame met heart, and another demon fell.
The adrenaline and thrill was addicting, especially when accented by rage. Chris now knew why Bianca had always loved the kill. She had left that life, left that thrill, for him –but she missed it, he could tell. Every time she vanquished a demon out of necessity, she had always worn a dangerous smile dancing on her crimson lips. At first, it had scared him, a part of him fearing that she would turn again to that bloodlust; however, she would eventually prove herself to be loyal. Whatever else could be said about the former assassin, she always kept her promises.
When he was little, Chris had never been allowed to go out on demon vanquishes. His mom had always said that they were too dangerous, and Chris was too young. After his mom died, he had to teach himself, expanding on the secret martial arts lessons he had been taking with his aunt.
"It's our little secret." When every day became a struggle to survive, he would find these skills just as useful as his witch and whitelighter powers.
Still, despite his training, he'd almost got his ass kicked by a girl.
Chris stopped in the middle of the dim, forlorn street, and listened hard. Unsurprised to hear nothing but silence, he walked on. His whitelighter senses were screaming at him, warning him about the assassin that was following him. But he had no intention of running away. This particular assassin had been after him for months, nearly getting him in several close calls. Chris was determined to turn the tables and get her off his back.
When he heard what he was listening for, Chris smiled and pushed his hidden athame out from the inside of his jacket's sleeve, intercepting the dagger before it could slice a hole in his shoulder.
"You know, this is getting kind of old." He caught a flash of movement in the corner of his eye.
With a flick of his wrist, the athame went flying. Chris cursed when he heard the athame strike wood and a cat screech in agitation at the close call.
A hard kick to the back of his knees sent his crashing to the ground. Guessing, Chris thrust his elbow backwards and hit flesh. Satisfied at the grunt of pain behind him, he orbed and rematerialized behind her.
But the assassin was ready. She turned around and thrust the palm of her hand into Chris's nose. He backed away as pain shot up his nose –quickly wiping it, he noticed blood flowing freely. Unprepared, he received a kick to the chest, which made him fall again. Lashing his leg out in a half circle, he heard the thump of a body falling in front of him.
Suddenly, something was on top of him, and the assassin threw some dirt into his eyes, temporarily blinding him. Trying to regain some control, Chris rolled himself on top. But the assassin didn't allow him to stay there for long, and soon she grabbed his shoulders and reversed their roles. The two ended up rolling around on the ground until they had reached a circle of light underneath the only working lamppost on the street.
Just as the assassin whipped out her athame, Chris used his telekinesis to summon his own athame. Both put their respective weapons at the other's neck.
Chris could hear both of their ragged breaths, but although he'd never seen the assassin so closely before, only enough to determine her gender, he wasn't looking at her. Instead, his eyes were on her athame.
On it, the design on the handle was one of a phoenix rising from flames; it was definitely different from Chris's athame, which was embellished with the Triquetra. The phoenix design looked really familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on where he had seen it before –
That's when he finally looked up at the assassin. As he took in her striking features, he gasped.
"Bianca?"
"Hello Chris," she said dryly. "Surprised to see me?"
A silent truce was accepted by both, and they put down their weapons.
"You're the one who's been trying to kill me?"
Bianca smiled slightly. "I've never aimed to kill. Wyatt strictly forbade it."
"Oh, but I guess maiming me is within the rules?" Chris exclaimed sarcastically, which only made Bianca smile wider. Being sarcastic had always been one of Chris's key personality traits.
The Phoenix assassin chuckled. "You haven't changed a bit." Her smile faded. "But your brother has, a lot."
Chris nodded grimly, wholeheartedly agreeing with her. "I'm assuming he hired you, right? Not some other demon offering you a hell of a bounty?"
Bianca frowned. "It's not like I had a choice! Wyatt enslaved my clan on pain of death. It's a far cry from the good old says, huh Chris?" she added bitterly.
The Halliwell nodded. When Chris had been five and Bianca nine, the Charmed Ones had crossed paths with Bianca's mother, Lynn. It turned out that Lynn's target had been the same demon that the Charmed Ones were after. Alone, neither party had been able to vanquish the demon, but together they eventually defeated it.
While they were out vanquishing, Lynn had left Bianca at the Manor with Wyatt and Chris. Since Bianca and Wyatt were older, they had gotten along pretty quickly, and had a lot of fun teasing Chris.
Needless to say, five-year-old Chris hadn't been too happy about this.
Over the years, the Charmed Ones and Lynn collaborated on many tough demon vanquishes. Every time they did, Bianca would be dropped off at the Manor, no matter how old she was. As they got older, Chris wasn't teased about being a baby, and the three actually ended up pretty good friends, although they didn't see much of each other outside of those visit; still, they had a good time when they did.
Chris smiled at the memory of his mother's face when she'd came home and saw what they were doing.
"What are you smiling at?"
"Just remembering that one time when my mom caught you teaching us how to throw athames."
Bianca's smile matched Chris's as she, too, was caught in reminiscence, "Yeah, I remember…she was pissed!"
They were silent for a moment until Chris voiced a question, "So –how does Wyatt treat you? Like crap or like he knows you?"
Bianca shrugged noncommittally, "A little better, I think. After all, I get the best targets." She met eyes with Chris, which he took to mean that meant him.
"So what now? We can't sit here forever. You going to hand me in to Wyatt or what?"
The assassin bit her lip, her expression troubled. "What else can I do? Wyatt's running out of patience; if I don't get you soon, he'll get rid of me like he got rid of the others in my Coven." Bianca's eyes flashed dangerously as she snarled, "Of course, he won't get me without a fight!"
Chris smiled. He knew how skilled she was at fighting. But he knew he could never allow her to take him in, and he couldn't let allow her to go back to Wyatt and meet her death. Although this could be a potential trap, Chris decided the risk was worth it, and if Bianca turned out to be a traitor . . . they'd get rid of her.
"How about we make our own choice? You can come back with me to the Resistance, and we can work together. You'd get a place to say, and we'd get Intel and one heck of a fighter. What do you think? Do you want to work with me or for Wyatt?"
Bianca didn't have to think very long. There was nothing left for her back there anyway –her mother was dead, and the rest of her Coven has lost their pride, their independence. For instead of unwillingly and fighting with reluctance in carrying out Wyatt's orders, they kissed his feet and bowed before him.
"Okay."
Chris paused to admire the design on the athame's handle, a phoenix, deadly and beautiful at the same time, like Bianca. When his own athame, passed down from his mother, had been lost in the chaos of a battle, Bianca gave her family heirloom to him before he left for the past. She said that if he used that athame, it'd be like having her fighting alongside him.
And she was right. Every close call he gracefully got out of in this frenzy of killing was because of Bianca, of what she'd shown him. He felt like she was right there with him, guiding him to safety.
With that in mind, Chris used one of the maneuvers Bianca had taught him to strike down another demon . . . and another . . . and another . . . and another . . .
Piper was still grumbling as she approached the neurotic whitelighter's room within P3. They had scried for almost twenty minutes until Chris finally surfaced. Piper for one was glad he had chosen to go to P3 instead of on top of his perch on the Golden Gate Bridge. The eldest Halliwell sister was feeling some resentment towards her sisters for forcing her to go talk to Chris. Paige had orbed her there, chirped "Good luck!" and orbed out, all the while ignoring Piper's scowl.
Pausing at Chris's door, Piper took a deep breath and knocked.
There was no answer.
"Chris? It's Piper. I need to talk to you." Piper listened for any movement. She frowned when her ears touched silence, and wondered if he'd moved since when they'd scried for him. Still, never being one to back out or let go of things easily, she knocked again, this time harder, faster, and with an impatient air.
"Chris . . . I know you're in there . . . open up." Piper paused again and, still finding Chris silent, started to get annoyed. "You know what? This is my club, so you sure as heck are going to open the damn door or I swear to god I will blow your ass back to the future!"
Once she calmed down and realized what she had said, Piper winced. That wasn't a very gentle approach to face someone in mourning at all . . . if someone had talked to her like that when Prue died Piper would have kicked their butt from there to the moon. Way to go, Piper, let's threaten the man who just lost his fiancé. Very sensitive to his feelings.
As he heard Piper fumble with her keys on the other side of the door, Chris closed his eyes miserably.
Go away, he thought desperately. The last thing he needed was the woman who looked and talked like his mother to yell at him for littering her attic. And he really didn't want to be blown up. He wouldn't die, but it'd hurt like crazy, and Chris really didn't think he could handle physical pain in addition to his emotional turmoil. The funny thing though was that he believed that she really would blow him up. It was a very Piper thing to do, especially to someone she disliked.
Chris managed to find a jacket in the soothing darkness and pull a jacket around himself, zipping it up as high as it could go. He didn't want to get busted. If Piper saw the state he was in, he knew she'd go into mother mode, no matter who it concerned, and call for Leo, who would just make Chris's unstable emotions worse.
He tired to get up when he heard the creek of a door opening, but winced and laid back down, completely exhausted.
Piper blinked as her eyes adjusted to the depressing darkness Chris had situated himself in. She flipped on the lights and saw that the whitelighter was wide awake and staring at her with an irritated expression. Piper flinched when she met the gaze of his haunted eyes.
"So," he said very quietly, "You've come to yell at me?"
The Charmed One shook her head sadly. Is that really what he thought of her? Always yelling, always angry?
I'm coming round to open the blinds
You can't hide here any longer
My god you need to rinse those puffy eyes
You can't lie still any longer
Piper gestured to the chair in front of Chris's desk, silently asking permission for her to sit there. His reply was an unconcerned shrug. Piper took that as a "yes".
When she took a better look at Chris's condition, Piper saw that his eyes were red and swollen, a sign that he had been crying. Piper was kind of scared to see her usually emotionless whitelighter look so defeated. He was human, after all, she realized. He was hurting, and hurting bad; she could see it in his stormy green eyes.
Chris looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to say something.
"So . . . where have you been? We've been calling you." Piper lied. Telling him that they had scried for him probably wouldn't be a good idea.
He shrugged. "Around." Piper narrowed her eyes in suspicion at the way Chris kept on adjusting his jacket. Once the initial clue set in, she noticed how ragged his breathing was, and how hard he was trying to control it, hide it from her. Chris's voice sounded weak, and she could see a bloody cut very close to his neck.
Chris squirmed under Piper's sharp gaze, knowing very well that she was very observant already without him being her son. Mothers just knew things, no matter what timeline their children came from. She knows.
"Take off your jacket." She commanded suddenly.
"Why? I'm cold." Chris fibbed, attempting to set her off course.
"Yeah, well you can bear being cold for one second. Take it off."
Slowly and reluctantly, Chris pried his jacket off his bruised shoulder, knowing that if need be Piper would rip it off if he didn't, much more painfully. If Chris even had the energy to orb, he wouldn't. The so-called trust between them was already strained, and he didn't want to get kicked out, especially with it being so close to the deadline.
Piper's eyes widened as she saw the blood staining Chris's shirt. The shoulder was soaked through and through with bright red blood, and a once white linen was wrapped around Chris's stomach, masking a very serious wound. Several cuts and burns were scattered along his arms. Piper was shocked that he didn't look more in agony. But then, judging by the strain in his eyes, Chris was used to disguising his pain.
She gaped at her whitelighter, eyes asking a silent question.
And yes they'll ask you where you've been
And you'll have to tell them, again and again
"I did a little demon hunting," he mumbled, feeling lightheaded. Probably from the loss of blood. He thought wistfully.
"A little demon hunting?" Piper repeated.
Chris sighed and put a bandaged hand to his forehead. "Just two demon clans."
Piper frowned disapprovingly, not sure whether or not to be impressed that he single handedly took on two demon clans and survived, or to scold him for being so stupid.
That look she was giving usually resulted in him looking down at his sneakers in shame, guilty for whatever he'd done. However, it had no effect on Chris now. He just stared back at her unblinkingly waiting for her to start a reprimand. When it didn't come, Chris shrugged, unconcerned and asked, "That it?"
He immediately regretted it, for when those words came out of his mouth Piper yelled, "LEO!"
"What are you doing?" Chris demanded. Having one parent there was bad enough, but together . . . great. Just great. He was so going to get it. Since Leo was an Elder in this timeline, he could ask him to let him see Bianca one last time. Unfortunately, Chris doubted Leo would allow it; he never completely approved of Chris dating Bianca in the future when Leo actually knew her. Chris had no high expectations for this Leo. He seriously doubted the Elder would allow Bianca, albeit a spirit Bianca, back into the Manor, especially if his first impression of her was an assassin trying to kill Chris.
"Getting Leo to heal your wounds," Piper explained calmly, "We can't just let you bleed to death."
Chris glared at her. "Since when did you care about my well being?" he snapped, the thought of Leo being there soon bringing the worst out of him.
The familiar chime of orbs interrupted Piper in mid retort, which disappeared to reveal a confused Leo. "Piper? What's wrong?"
"Healing, now," Piper commanded briskly, pointing to Chris, not even bothering to greet her ex-husband with a hello.
"What happened?" Leo asked, a golden glow emitting from beneath his fingertips. Chris could have sworn there was concern in his estranged father's voice, but he didn't count on it.
Piper threw Chris an accusing glance before answering sarcastically, "Oh, Chris decided to try and get himself killed by tackling two demon clans."
"You did what? Chris, I thought you understood that trust works both ways! You should have told us immediately when you were in trouble. These wounds are really bad."
Chris rolled his eyes, seeing the irony of this as the lightheadedness faded. Even when Piper and Leo distrusted him, hell, hated him, they still somehow manage to act like parents and treat him like a stupid little kid.
Shifting himself into a sitting position, Chris said, "Look, I'm sorry I didn't come to you for healing, okay? I just needed to be alone and . . . deal with this."
"Chris, this kind of behavior is self-destructive. If you die, who's going to save Wyatt?"
Leo meant well, trying to pull him out of his depression by giving him a reason to live, but the mention of his big brother only made Chris's blood boil. The memory of Wyatt killing Bianca flashed through his mind. If it weren't for Wyatt, Bianca would be alive. If it weren't for Wyatt, Chris wouldn't have to come to the past and deal with the fact that his family hates him. If it weren't for Wyatt, the world would be like it was now, in this time: relatively happy.
And you probably don't want to hear tomorrow's another day
But I promise you you'll see the sun again
And you're asking me why pain's the only way to happiness
And I promise you you'll see the sun again
They were still trying to save him from himself. Chris wanted to shout his frustration, vent his emotions out of him, and stop them from eating him up inside, so bad that it hurt. But he knew he couldn't. Even now, on the brink, Chris refused to tell them his true identity. He'd only regret it later, when he remembered his mission.
"You can mourn, Chris, but you shouldn't become . . . violent," Piper was saying.
"Don't be a hypocrite." Chris snapped harshly, "You became a Fury when Prue died."
Piper flinched and looked as if Chris had slapped her. She narrowed her eyes, her tone vicious and dangerous. "That was different."
"How?" Chris retorted. "Even if the Fury thing was different, you still went around chasing after every single evil thing you could find, and almost got you, Phoebe, and Cole killed, if you remember that tiny detail!"
Before Piper could bite back, Leo interrupted, "How do you know all this anyway?"
Chris didn't answer for a moment. Both Piper and Leo expected him to say "Future consequences," the phrase he loved so much. But instead, Chris decided to go with a half truth.
"I learned the Charmed Ones' history at Magic School."
"Magic School?" Piper asked, all anger forgotten as she turned to Leo, "As in Harry Potter-esque Magic School? It's not called Hogwarts by any chance?"
The question was directed at Chris, who smiled wryly. "No. But there's a school called Hogwarts in England. Although there is no Harry Potter or Albus Dumbledore. J.K. Rowling made that up. She's a witch too, by the way; she went to Hogwarts. That's why the books are so detailed and huge. She changed some things, of course, so it wouldn't expose the actual school too much."
Piper looked surprised for moment, but then remembered what she was trying to say before.
"We're getting off the subject."
The smile was wiped off Chris's face. He had seen the seriousness back in Piper's eyes.
"What, no more small talk?" Chris spat, feeling more and more suffocated by his parent's presence, "You going to tell, again, that I'm being an idiot? That I'm being self-destructive and will get myself killed? Well, you can save it, because I know what you really feel about me! You don't give a damn what happens to me, so stop pretending like you do!"
Leo's eyes flashed, but he managed to keep his voice calm, like all the others in Elder Land told him to, "I know you're angry right now, but everything will get better soon, you'll see."
Piper closed her eyes when she heard Leo say this. Speaking to him so impersonally, as if he were speaking to some bad hormonal teenager and not to someone who was fragile, pissed, and had just experienced a truly heartbreaking loss, was a mistake. Chris would definitely not take this well. It didn't help that everything Leo did seemed to anger the young man, even recently when they seemed to get along better.
"No it won't! It won't get better!" Chris felt like such a whiny little bratty kid at that moment, but honestly, he didn't care. He just wanted to get this worm of emotions out of him. "How the hell do you know?! You didn't live in my future, how could you possibly know what it feels like to have someone you loved killed in front of your eyes, the very last person you had left in the world? What would you know about loss? What do you know about watching your family –mother, aunts, and cousins –die, murdered?"
"Chris, I understand–" Piper began, but Chris cut her up.
"No! No you don't!" Chris yelled, facing her now, eyes blazing in fury. A torrent of emotions was coming out of him. He knew it wasn't their fault, but he felt like Bianca dying was their doing, that they hadn't protected their precious Twice-Blessed, Leo's favorite son, well enough to prevent the hell he came from.
Once he started, Chris just couldn't stop. Even as he realized from the looks on Piper and Leo's faces that he'd said too much, everything just kept on jumbling out of him.
"The future's a mess, thanks to your precious son, and, as if being the evil overlord of the world wasn't enough, he murdered my fiancé for defending me, protecting me. So I'm sorry if I'm an inconvenience to your happy little family; Bad Chris's messing up your lives, screwing with the timeline, corrupting your little angel . . . well he isn't much of an angel where I come from. So why don't you make it easy for all of us: stop pretending like you care and leave me the hell alone Mom!"
With an angry huff, Chris orbed out, leaving the stunned couple to soak in the mass of unintentionally given information.
"Wyatt, 'the evil overlord of the world'? I thought Chris was here to protect him from a demon." Leo wondered out loud, still not quite believing this impossible bit of information.
But something else echoed in Piper's mind.
Leave me alone Mom!
Mom. Chris had called Piper "Mom".
Mom. Piper was Chris's mother. Chris was her son. No, it wasn't possible. He must have meant it sarcastically. But the more she denied it, the more it made sense. Only family would sacrifice everything for family. After all, wasn't it Piper who always intended to teach Wyatt the morals she applied to her sisters and Leo: "Family always comes first."
Mom. What a beautiful and heartbreaking word.