"And I thought I died to protect you, but I guess we can make mistakes."
The speaker didn't wait for a reaction, he turned and left the room, resolving to never answer if they ever called.
They would be alone; he would be alone.
A gentle breeze caressed the man's face, as he escaped from the room. He closed his eyes, taking a moment, focusing on the black. His feet regained their momentum before he reopened his eyes. Black fleece snuggled closed, hands stuffed into pockets, the tall lanky individual paced down the sidewalk.
Fuck, Fuck, Fuck…
There was no other way to express it. Nothing he could, or would have done, would help. They had lied to him, betrayed him.
The depressing figure had done many shady things in his life, even taken life, but he never lied. Not about who he was, what he did, or how he felt. No matter how hard it would make his life, he had always told the truth.
Thanks Mom, some son you raised.
No one else was raised like he was; the figure smirked sadly at the thought. His brother had grown up in the same house, and had turned out nothing like the lonely figure.
Again, Mom, some son you raised. One's a idealistic optimist, and the other is a practical pessimist.
The man walked toward a looming house, on the corner of a street. He paused at the front door, battling with his final decision. No one would help him with this.
So what's new?
His feet carried him through the threshold of the house, and he moved silently in the house. No though came to where he had to go, it was all motor memory. He knew which steps to avoid, to stay silent, as he moved upstairs. No attention was wanted. The tours were over, but there were guards. He really didn't want to deal with them now.
The attic was dark, as he glided across the room, toward an empty podium. The torrent of thoughts were pushed aside, as he, without hesitation, pulled a folded paper from his jacket pocket, and began reciting the words to a summoning spell.
No way out now, he thought, as a gigantic well worn book fell to the podium.
"You're lying to use Chris Perry." The individual being addressed smirked.
"Not going to lie about that."
"This is not funny." He rolled his eyes.
"Piper, if you knew the circumstances, it would be." She threw her hands up in frustration.
"Well, if you didn't lie, maybe I could see it."
"If I didn't lie, you would see a lot of things, which you are not supposed to. Trust me, Piper, I'm doing this to help you."
"Who is here to help you?" Piper noticed the man flinch; she stayed silent.
"No one." His footsteps echoed into the hallway, then out the front door.
Piper, at the foot of the stairs watched him go. Truth was what she wanted when she had started the conversation with the man, a few moments ago. She, and her two sisters, had been at it for a few months now. They hadn't made any progress.
no one
Oh, the progress she had just made. He had no one, completely alone was he; Chris was fighting solo.
Like me with Wyatt.
Piper kicked that thought out of her head immediately, knowing full well that raising Wyatt was nothing like time traveling to the past, to save the world. Her feet carried her toward the kitchen, mind still processing. She had her sisters to help her with Wyatt; she wasn't alone.
Does he have brothers, or sisters to help him?
Siblings that would do anything for each other; God knows Piper would do everything within her power to help her sisters.
No one.
No, there wasn't anyone to protect him, but there certainly was someone who he was protecting. Chris wouldn't go through all this trouble for no one.
If there was one thing Piper could trust, it was the love one has to protect another.