Disclaimer: None of the originals are mine

A/N: Well, here is the final Chris–centric installment. Sorry it took a bit; lack of motivation. To witchofnovember, this one's for you, buddy. I hope it satisfies your need for a fix. Many thanks for everything. To everyone else, thanks for sticking with me, and reading and reviewing. Please, please review and let me know what you think! I hope this doesn't bother anyone; I know it might be a bit distressing to some. Anyway, we're coming down the home stretch, here, maybe two or three more chapters. To indulge in an after-midnight cliché, all good things must end…I don't want to wander too far away from the originals. You've all been incredible, so thanks. Oh dear, slight maudlin-ness. Whatever. 's all good.

Oh, the italics indicate either flashbacks or flashforwards, as the case may be.

"Get the fuck away from him."

"Excuse me?"

"I said, get the fuck away from him." CJ's voice is calm and controlled, but I can hear the icy fury in it.

"Hey, lady, just who the hell…"

As for me, I can't seem to move. I just watch as CJ confronts the man who was responsible for bringing me into the world, and now seems to simply want me out of it.

So I'm finally doing it. Taking the plunge. Dennis and I are having a commitment ceremony in DC this weekend. I thought it'd be fine to have it here, but Denny's never seen the Cherry blossoms, and then Josh and Donna got all excited…

I'm packing. I'm trying to decide which suit I want to wear to the ceremony. I lay the choices out on the bed and ponder. I'm so absorbed I don't hear the soft thump of Tansy landing on the bed, right in the middle of my dark gray suit. "Tansy!" She purrs and butts her head against my hand. "No, no, no, kitty! Dennis! Would you call off this damn cat, please? She's getting hair all over my suit."

Dennis comes into the room and plucks an unresisting Tansy off the bed, shooting me a dirty look. "Come on, pussums," he coos, "let's get you away from the mean man." I scowl, and he smiles meanly. "Oh, you can't wear the silver tie."

"Why?"

"'Cause I'm wearing a silver tie."

"Who gave you the silver tie monopoly?"

"I packed first."

Dammit.

Chris has this way about him. He draws people in. Even when he's being maddening, he does so in a self-deprecating manner that amused me, and intrigued me, from the moment I first met him. I've found that self-deprecation is a central tenet in his approach to life.

I've found that he's deeply caring, especially to those he considers his family. He sends Donna flowers and New York delicacies for her birthday and Mother's Day, and faithfully cuts out political cartoons each week for Josh. He'll babysit for JJ and Becca at a moment's notice, never mind the logistics. He spent hours hunting for my mother's favorite record, and when he's in the city he unfailingly takes Suzy and Barry out to dinner, or he brings it to them. He'll paint for CJ and find cigars for Toby and bake for Sam and Ainsley.

And what makes it so remarkable is that in a way, this is a family he created for himself. On both sides, there are no boundaries of affection, no events that are closed to him, no expectations from which he is excluded. And it works. It takes a special person to do that.

But I've found that perhaps he's done too well in this. By creating a new family, he believes he's effaced the first one he had. But he hasn't, and he'll have to deal with that, and I don't know what that will do to him.

But I've found that I want to be by his side when he finds out.

"Kithy! Kithy!

I look up, grinning, and watch a little curly-haired blur speed towards me. "Hey, angel baby!" I twirl her around.

"Hi! Hi hi hi!"

"Hi yourself! Miss me?"

She grins, showing tiny, pearly teeth. "Yeth," she lisps. She snuggles closer, lays her head on my shoulder. I take a minute and just stand there, enjoying the feel of Sarah in my arms.

Catching Dennis's eye, I smile, and he grins back. "I think it's love," he says.

"You betcha."

Chris and Dennis went somewhat against tradition and took a trip before the ceremony. They went scuba diving in the Cayman Islands. Which explains the deep tans, happy smiles, and generally relaxed air around the two of them. While Chris fawns over my daughter, I greet Dennis.

"You look great, sweetie. Super."

"Thanks, Becca. I feel great, too." He smiles, and his eyes crinkle up at the corners. With the tan, they're startlingly blue. You know, if he wasn't gay, and I weren't deliriously happily married…anyway. He reminds me a bit of the guy in Boondock Saints, though. Definitely drool-worthy. I'll ask CJ and see what she thinks.

"Huh. He always reminds me more of Luke Perry, actually."

"Really? I guess I can see that, but…"

"Yeah, there is a bit of that Sean Patrick whatshisname, there. Ah, youth. And, you know, sexual preference."

Behind us, Donna snorts. "You do know this conversation is wrong on so many levels, right?"

"Oh, stop it, Donna." CJ grins. "It's no crime. But I must say, it's gratifying to know that Joshua still fulfills all your needs, fantasy-wise and, dare I say…otherwise?"

Donna throws a towel at her. "CJ…"

"Am I interrupting something?" We turn. It's Denny, quirking an eyebrow. I giggle, then slap my hand over my mouth.

"By all means, please do," Donna says dryly. CJ just stares at him thoughtfully until Donna pokes her.

CJ shakes her head, smiles ruefully. "Sit, Denn. You want some coffee?"

"Yes, thanks. You three are up early."

"Tradition. The rest of the guys and Suzy won't surface for a while yet. Cookie Crisp?"

He smiles. "You read my mind."

We eat companionably for a few minutes, and then Chris shuffles in, scratching at his head as though he's not quite sure whether he's awake yet, or where he is. In contrast to Denny, casual in jeans and a button down shirt, he's wearing only his boxers. "Morn-" He yawns.

"Your charm never ceases to astound me." Denny smirks.

"Shut up."

"Whatever you say, snookums."

He glowers, and accepts a cup of coffee gratefully. He looks over at Denny, and all of a sudden snatches the comics away from him, nearly upsetting Denny's coffee. "Chris, grow up."

"Speak not, He-who-eats cookies for breakfast." Denny responds by smacking Chris resoundingly on the head, and then calmly retrieving the comics.

Chris is still rubbing his head, but he's grinning.

I didn't want to invite him. They all told me I should. Donna, Dennis, Sam. Not JJ. JJ knows more than anyone. Dennis knows too, but he still thought I should try.

They just didn't know. But to appease them, I did it. He wouldn't come anyway. To a commitment ceremony involving a son he found "worthless" and "queer?" Not a chance.

I never should have sent that damn invitation. It bought me a ticket straight into hell.

"So, there you are, kid."

I look up, and my smile fades in an instant. I try to form some response, but everything just sticks.

He grins wolfishly. His stance, and the gleam in his eyes, indicates drinking. I've seen it often enough. He never actually really hit me, but his words always struck harder than fists would have. "Great party. Seems a waste of money, though, if you ask me."

I feel Dennis's hand on my arm. I think it's the only thing that keeps me standing. Every other instinct is screaming for me to run and hide. As it was, I stay, immobile, aware only of the warm pressure of the hand on my arm and a pair of malicious eyes.

Then something happens that I never would have expected. CJ speaks. "Why?"

He looks stunned, momentarily. But only momentarily. "Because he's queer, for God's sake."

"Nothing wrong with that in my book."

"Well, then you need to get a new book, lady."

"No. I think you do. In fact, I think you should go find it right now. Leave. Right now."

"I don't think so. Not until I've had my say." He sneers at me. "That's right. I've got something to say to you, you worthless little shit." He looks at me. "You were nothing but that, a worthless, disgraceful little shit, from day one. I didn't want you. But she wouldn't… I should have gotten rid of you the moment she left, you little bas…"

I try to talk myself out of it, out of the panic. I knew it already. I've known it for years. It's nothing new. But still, the bile rises. I flush hot and cold. My ears buzz.

"Get the fuck away from him."

What?

"Excuse me?"

"I said, get the fuck away from him." CJ speaks with a barely controlled fury, and her eyes burn with anger.

"Hey, just who the hell…"

As for me, I can't seem to move. I just watch as CJ confronts the man who was responsible for bringing me into the world, and now seems to simply want me out of it.

Josh comes up to stand next to me, puts a restraining hand on my arm. I could kill him. After all the times I pleaded with him to keep his mouth shut, cleaned up his messes, he's telling me to calm down? I'm damned if I will. Not this time.

"Who the hell am I, you say? I'm the woman who could make one phone call and have you eliminated so fast your little bigot head would spin, that's who I am. Who the hell are you? Who the hell are you to storm in after fifteen years and disrupt this boy's life again? JUST WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?"

"I'm his father." He spits the word out, with derision. But it's there. Out there. And it's true. And I can't do one thing about it.

"No. No. You are not. You are a fucking sperm donor. I've known this boy for years. Not one phone call, one letter, nothing. I've seen him laugh it off. I've seen this good, happy, lively kid go silent on his birthday, on holidays, so shot through with pain he doesn't even know it. So don't fucking tell me you're his father. Don't you FUCKING dare!"

He steps toward her, threateningly, and next to her Josh snarls, literally snarls, and grabs him by his lapels, looking like it's taking all of his self-control not to pound him within an inch of his sorry little life.

I snap out of my trance. Josh is hyperventilating, and his face is purple. Around us, everyone is staring, transfixed. I walk the few steps, tug on Josh' sleeve. "Josh, for God's sake, you're going to give yourself a heart attack. It's not worth it."

Suddenly CJ's beside me, her eyes oring into me, hard and bright. "Don't you say that, ever! Don't do that, you hear me! You're a hundred times the man he is. Don't let him win! Don't you let him win, dammit!"

"So, you finally agree with your old man on something, huh, boy?" he sneers. "I'd say there's hope for you, but…"

CJ whirls on him. "Shut up! Just shut up, you worthless bastard! If you ever, ever, come near this boy again I'll…"

I place a hand on her arm. "CJ." She looks at me, questioning. "Thank you, CJ." I walk up to my father, take a long, hard look. "You may be my father, but you're not my family. You never were. And if you come here again, I swear to God, you will be sorry you fathered me."

All I can hear is the squeak of his shoes.

Sunday morning. As with last night, I didn't sleep much at all. I enter the kitchen only to find the coffee already made, and Dennis sitting at the table, staring out the window, watching Chris.

"Denny? You want more coffee?"

He turns, the ghost of a smile on his lips, and hands me his cup. It's full, and stone cold. I rub his arm, and we sit in silence for a while. When he speaks, his voice is soft. "I had no idea. Honest to God, CJ, I had no idea…that it was like…that. I thought, you know, tension, and displeasure, but not like that. I mean, this is Chris. How…how does anyone become Chris growing up with that, CJ? I mean, he's so…Chris. I can't get my mind around it. God, I can't believe I asked him to invite that monster. Jesus. If only I hadn't-"

"Denny, honey, please don't tell me you're blaming yourself."

"No, no. I just, I wish I had known."

"Besides, if anyone should be blaming themselves, it's me. I can't believe I went and did that, made it worse."

"CJ-"

"As far as I'm concerned, Claudia Jean, I've never been prouder of you in my life."

It's Josh. He comes over, puts a hand on my shoulder, smiles at Denny. Together, we watch Chris.

Thud thud. Thwack. Boing. Thud thud thud thud…

He's been doing that all weekend. He doesn't even like basketball. Ever since we came back to our place, though, that's what he's been doing, playing the hell out of that ball. He'll barely speak to any of us, not Dennis, not CJ, not JJ. Not me. And as for eye contact, forget it.

Thwack. Boing. Thud. Thud. Swish.

Ah. Maybe that was a sign. Oh, hell, screw it. Whatever it was, I've got to do something. I glance at CJ and Dennis, then head out to the driveway.

"Hey, kiddo."

He looks up briefly, gives me a cool-eyed, neutral stare, shoots. He misses.

After we got that son of a bitch out of there on Friday, Chris just shut down, basically. He went and sat in a corner, put his head in his hands. Dennis went over after a few minutes, put an arm around him, hugged him, talked a bit. I could see his lips moving. Chris leaned into him a bit, tucked his head against Denny's chest, but other than that he just sat there. They were supposed to go back to New York, but they ended up just coming back to our place. The one-syllable assent was one of the few words to come out of Chris's mouth that night. When I woke up the next morning, he was already out there, playing ball. Just playing ball.
"Looks like you could use a new ball, kid."

He dribbles. Shoots. Misses.

"Want me to go see whether I can rustle one up?"

Thwack. Thwack. Swish.

"Guess that's a no, huh? All right, I got it. But I wish you'd say something, Chris. Anything. Please, kiddo. Everyone's worried."

Suppressing a sigh, I turn to go back in the house. Then I hear something.

"I'm not your kid, Josh."

"What?"

"I said, I'm not your kid." The words are harsh and biting; they cut into the space between us like a lash.

"Who are you trying to convince, Christian? You or me?"

His eyes burn into mine, and he slams the ball into the ground. "Dammit, Josh! What the hell were you thinking? You were practically plum-colored! You could have killed yourself. And if you hadn't, he might just have. He was trashed enough to…Jesus."

My ears prick up. "Did he get trashed like that when you were a kid?"

"Josh…"

"Answer me."

"Yeah, every once in a while."

"Did he hurt you?"

"I don't…"

"Chris."

"He just shoved me around a few times is all, when I couldn't get away quick enough. It was never really premeditated, never like I knew I was gonna get it, or anything…Anyway, don't bother about it. It's just my shit, is all…"

"Do you really think you matter so little to all of us that we're going to be satisfied with that? We care about you."

"You need to stop trying to be my family, Josh."

"What?"

"I've pretended it for too long, and look what happened."

"Chris, there was nothing…"

"I could have done something, been somewhere else, been someone else, spared you all that. God, Sarah was in the room."

"So, what now, you're going to deny everything you've become, and that'll just fix everything? Chris, who you are today has nothing to do with that bastard, or your mother, or Donna and I, or anyone. It has to do with you. You did it. All yourself. But, I have to say, it has been a privilege, and a pleasure, to have been along for the ride. But you're not done yet. You just, you know, have a flat tire, or something."

"A flat tire." He's looking at me skeptically.

"Yep. But never fear, you've come to the right place. I just happen to have a spare," I joke lamely.

"Yeah?"

I put my hand on his shoulder. "Yeah."

"And you don't mind me, ah, stealing it?"

"Nah. We always wanted a few more petty thieves around here."

"Really?"

"Well, I was going to kick you out the first few hundred times, but then, well, ya kinda grew on me."

"Really?"

"Jeez, bonehead, how many times do I have to tell you? Yes, okay?" I pull him towards my side and give him a one-armed hug, ruffle his hair a bit. "Christ, kid, go take a shower, would ya? Or, ya know, I might just kick you out after all."

"Noted." He smiles shyly. "Thank you, Josh."

"You're welcome." He turns. "Skunk-Man."

I watch Chris turn away from Josh and trudge toward the house, ball under his arm. He comes inside, and is soon face to face with Dennis. "You okay?" Dennis asks. He puts his hands on Chris's shoulders, runs then up and down his arms. "You had me worried there for a while," he says, slightly shakily. Chris nods. "You sure?" Chris smiles lopsidedly, shrugs, presses a hand to his back. "Your back bothering you? Hot shower would probably help a little, and I can rub it for you, later, if you want." Chris nods again, turns to go. "Hey." Dennis opens his arms, and Chris steps into them. Dennis hugs tight, and in a few moments the tears start pouring down Chris's face. Then he sobs. Through it all, Dennis just holds on, lips pressed against Chris's hair. Quietly, I leave the room.
Later on, I knock on the door to his bedroom. He's in a chair, facing the window, listening to a piece of classical music. I wonder whether he's channeling Josh. "Chris?"

"Hey, CJ."

"You want something to eat?"

"No thanks."

"What's this called again?"

"The Swan. It's called the Swan." When he continues, his voice is so soft I have to step closer. "My mother used to listen to this."

"It's beautiful."

"It's sad. Sad and beautiful. I remember, she used to close her eyes, soak up every note. When…when he came in the room, all of a sudden all I could think of was her. It all came back. Walks, long walks, and the scorching bars of the jungle gym. Swings. Soft lullabies and a hand on my hair. Ice cream cones dripping sweetness. The sad, wistful look in her eyes. The hollow feeling in my heart when she left."

"Have you heard from her?"

He shakes his head, and a tear drips down his cheek. "Never. She loved me, CJ. I know she did. She used to call me 'mein kleiner,' my little one. She was German, you know." He stops, and his voice takes on a raggedy edge. "I know I should hate her, CJ. I should. But I can't. She was so sad. But God, I just…I wish she had been here."

His face contorts, I sit down next to him, rub his shoulder. A single tear trickles down his cheek. It's more than I can bear. I put my arms around him. "Oh, baby. Oh, sweetie. It's okay. Cry it out. It's all right. You can cry here. You're safe here. You're with family."