CHAPTER FIVE: Love

A firm hand cupped his chin, bringing his head back up. She was now looking at him, a myriad of emotions crossing her face. She reached up with the hand, fingertips light against his skin, almost gentle as she traced his features. From forehead down to his jawline, the bridge of his nose down to his full lips, her thumb over his eyebrow. I could tell that she could see it now, what she had never noticed before.

Looking at the two of them, it totally amazed me then the way it still throws me now that none of us had realized it sooner. His expression mirrored hers. The same shade of hair, the wide eyes with their conflicted emotions held in check, the facial structure, the firm chin. Only his height and his Whitelighter powers came from his father. The rest were hers alone.

I've wondered since then if that's part of the reason why he was such a brat before we knew who he was - if by keeping us angry and irritated at him, that we never tried to find the good in him and thus never saw the Halliwell that was truly such a strong a part of him.

We just never saw it.

But she saw it now.

She cupped his cheek with her palm in a gentle manner that shocked me and seemed to surprise even her. Very softly, very, very gently, she said his name, the name she had given him - the name she would give him. For the first time she said it as the name of the son she knew was a part of her, the name of the son she loved. And, oh, if the way she said his name didn't bring tears to my eyes, the way he leaned into her palm with an almost sense of longing certainly did as I realized that he had been away from home far too long now, and been far too alone in a different time than his own, and I found myself desperately wanting to give him a hug.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered again, almost a whimper.

"Don't," she ordered, sounding rough. "Don't be. You don't have to be sorry for anything. Your actions justified what you believed was right, I suppose."

"Does it?" He let out a hollow laugh, pulling his cheek away from the comfort of her hand, staring back down at the countertop. "You always taught me that the wrong thing done for the right reason is still wrong. And look what I've done. I barge right into all of your lives, turn them upside down. I lied. You're right. I've lied to all of you every single step of the way. You'll never be able to trust me. Never know if I'm lying or telling the truth. Just look what I've done! I split you and Leo apart much sooner than you should've been, almost negating my own existence! I caused the death of my own fiancée! All for one lousy mission that I'm no longer sure will even succeed! I should have never come back."

"Look at me, honey," she said firmly, and when he did, surprise in his eyes at the endearment, she spoke even more firmly. "Desperate times call for desperate measures, and it sounds like you were desperate. You did the right thing, sweetie; you did. And you will succeed because you came here not to just save Wyatt, but all of us - to save your future, our future. You're a Halliwell." Her face softened, a smile on her lips just for him. "And you know how we always beat the odds."

"Yeah, I do," he whispered as for just a second or two, absolute heartbreak crossed his face as memories of his future past must've come unbidden at her words.

I realized that at some time or another, he hadn't beaten the odds. I wondered what had happened, and if that - being a member of a family who would try anything to beat the odds, especially to beat the odds that had beaten him - was part of his reason for coming back.

She must've seen that look, too. "Something happened, didn't it?" she asked, sympathy and a question in her voice.