Dichotomy
A/N: Here we are again. Hope you enjoy!
Summary: Christopher Peregrine Halliwell died. Yet he is now alive and well. Surely that doesn't happen so easily? And if it does, whatever happened to the Chris who died to save him?
Disclaimer: Charmed belongs to someone who is very rich, so we can immediately assume it is not me. Don't sue, you'll only get a half empty jar of old fashioned jelly babies.
Chapter 2
"Piper."
Leo Wyatt turned away from the sight of his sons bickering once again over some trivial matter, and faced his wife, who was carefully unpacking the shopping and placing it in its rightful place.
"Mm-hmm?"
She was clearly only half listening. Leo sighed, and moved over to the counter to help her with the shopping. He waited a few minutes before speaking again.
"I was thinking-"
"Leo, thinking is never a good idea." Piper sighed, as she chucked an empty jar of peanut butter into the bin and tutted.
"That boy of ours is obsessed, I swear."
"You shouldn't have eaten so much of those peanut and jelly bean sandwiches when you had him. Scarred him for life."
"Those were nice!"
They lapsed into cheerful banter over the questionable food preferences of Piper and their youngest son, and the reasons behind it. Reluctantly, Leo dragged conversation back to the original topic.
"Listen, Piper. I'm worried about Chris."
Piper froze, and whirled around to face him, knocking several jars of freshly unpacked peanut butter to the floor.
"Why?"
This sharp outburst had a slightly accusing tone to it. Leo sighed and took a deep breath.
"Well, it's just this is the age when…when he reaches the same age as…as the future Chris…well, you know." He tailed away feebly, refusing to speak the word 'died'.
Piper avoided his gaze and bent to retrieve the fallen peanut butter and straightened, but before she could speak, the jars were snatched out of her hands.
"Woah, Mum! Dangerously close to my peanut butter."
Chris held the jars protectively to his chest and placed them almost lovingly in their rightful place on the shelf above the fridge. There was an uncomfortable silence, and Chris raised his eyebrows.
"Something wrong, parents, blessed be?"
Piper rolled her eyes at her son's dry humour, the moment broken.
"No, peanut. Speaking of which…" she gestured to the jars "about this peanut butter obsession…"
"Oh, hell no, Mum. You remember what happened last time you rationed my peanut butter."
There was a horrified silence, and Leo groaned and winced at the memory. Chris nodded gravely.
"That's right." He paused, for dramatic effect "Peanut butter withdrawal symptoms! Worse than thrice charmed PMS."
Piper turned slightly pink, then muttered something about 'stupid emphatic sisters' before admitting defeat, recalling the mess that had resulted last time she had hidden the peanut butter. She sighed.
"Can I have peanut butter icing and marzipan for the cake, then?"
Leo grimaced at the thought. Well, he supposed, it did mean that Chris and Piper would have the cake all to themselves.
"And what gave you the impression there was a cake, Christopher?" Piper said, dangerously, sending a glare towards the living room.
"Well, the clearly visible ingredients in the see-through shopping bags and the poorly concealed shopping list and open cookbook were sort of a giveaway." Chris said, happily, before retreating to the living room to avoid his mother's wrath.
Perry sat dejectedly at the bottom of the stairs, prodding vaguely at the bloody gash in his once pale blue jumper, now adorned with a vivid scarlet patch in the centre. Nothing. No pain. Not yet, anyway.
He smiled weakly as he watched his mother - well, Chris' mother – humming quietly to herself as she unpinned the large banner from the wall, noting her contentment to not use magic to do so. He automatically waved his translucent hand to assist her, and was astonished when it sprang away from the wall as if blown off, startling her. He stared at his own hand, aghast.
"Thought you'd need assistance, Mum." Came a cheerful, if slightly hoarse, voice. Perry felt his heart sink in disappointment as Wyatt strode through the doorway and reached up to bring the banner to the ground. Piper smiled at him.
"Thank you, honey. Have fun?"
"You mean, did Chris have fun? Yes. Of course, Mum."
He grinned as she gave him an exasperated look.
"What? Not my fault I have superior powers." Perry froze, the phrase very much painfully familiar. "Just kidding. Dad was an elder when Chris was born, right? He's probably just late, as usual. Or lazy. Or both."
Perry sighed in relief, and reached for a peardrop on the small table beside the staircase. Strangely, these little bowls of peardrops seemed to be littered all around the house. He wondered vaguely why. He, who had a passionate love for the sweets, had discovered he could, now he was growing stronger, hold one in his hand if he concentrated.
He had just managed to get a hold of a particularly large orange one (his favourite flavour) when he froze. Wyatt's gaze had suddenly snapped to the bowl, and his eyes narrowed, then widened in excitement. Perry stared. Surely…but now he came to think of it…
Wyatt had always seemed to be around, or at least near the bowls when he had taken one, but he had never before caught him staring at it when he had made a grab for one. He had seen him stare intently at them once or twice, and had found it odd. And now he thought even harder…he had seen Wyatt once emptying the bowl, counting the peardrops, smiling triumphantly, then replacing them carefully.
Perhaps he thought they had a heist demon in the house.
Or perhaps…just perhaps…no. he surely hoped not. Wyatt could not somehow sense him, could he?
Excited at this prospect, and of his newfound ability to affect things solid, Perry stood abruptly and whipped his hand through the bowl as hard as he could.
With a resounding crash and a startled cry, both bowl and table fell to the floor. Perry stared, dumbfounded, then looked up hastily, to see Wyatt surveying the entire room intensely.
"Oh! Hell. Wyatt, you go on to bed, I'll-"
"No Mum!" Wyatt said quickly, too quickly, in Perry's opinion "You go on up. You've worked hard today…can't let the side down. I'll clear up the rest."
Piper smiled tiredly and yawned.
"Thanks, sweetie." She gave him a kiss on the cheek and turned towards the stairs, which Perry hastily moved away from. "Don't stay up too late."
She left.
Both Wyatt and Perry sighed in unison, in relief, and Perry jumped slightly. He surveyed Wyatt warily, who was still scanning the room, and had not moved. He slowly bent to push the banner aside, then straightened, and hesitated.
"Listen…spirit…I'm sorry."
Perry backed away, horrorstruck. Did he…could Wyatt…see him? But Wyatt was not looking in his direction, and he was plainly in sight. He waited.
"I had a hunch, that's all. I'm sorry if I offended you." He moved over to the bowl and righted the table; continuing to talk.
"I know you mean no harm, or I would sense it, so don't worry. I can't see you, either, by the way. You like peardrops, don't you?" he smiled slightly, gathering all the sweets together in a pile. Perry moved cautiously closer. Wyatt seemed to feel this, but continued to talk nonetheless.
"So do I. I like strawberry best. And Dad likes lemon. Chris-" he paused, looking around. "You don't like Chris, do you? I know. I don't sometimes, either." He smiled down at the gathered pile.
"There now. Is that all?"
He began to count them. Perry fumbled with his own peardrop, hesitated, then took a bold step forwards and held it out to Wyatt at eye level, who was kneeling, and waited with baited breath.
Slowly, Wyatt looked up, and his eyes widened at the sight of what would, to him, be a peardrop hanging in mid-air. He smiled shakily.
"No. Orange is your favourite, isn't it? Keep it."
Perry, momentarily stunned, dropped the peardrop to the floor and was hit with sudden inspiration. Although Wyatt could not see him…he hastily grabbed for the entire pile of peardrops and began to arrange them feverishly into a pattern.
Wyatt stared down at it.
"W-Y-A-T-T." he muttered, and smiled. "Yes, my name's Wyatt. What's yours?"
Perry hesitated, then shrugged, reaching for the sweets again. Wyatt watched patiently.
"P-E-R-R-Y. Per-ry. Perry." He frowned. "Have we met? I recognize that name from somewhere.
"Yes."
Wyatt gave a sharp intake of breath, and continued.
"Have you…have I known you a long time?"
"Depends."
Wyatt snorted.
"Okay…well…have we met recently?"
"No."
"A long time ago?"
"Yes."
"How long?"
"Seventeen."
"Seventeen years?" Wyatt's eyes widened. "Exactly?"
"Exactly."
"But then…" he frowned, trying desperately to recall what possibly happened the day Chris was born. He shook his head.
"I'm sorry. I don't remember."
"Wouldn't."
"Because I was too young?" Wyatt muttered. "Yes, I suppose so. Perry…Perry…so, um, Perry." He cleared his throat. "How old are you?"
Perry hesitated. It would be unwise to tell Wyatt this particular piece of information. It would seem too suspicious.
"Depends."
Wyatt grimaced.
"Depends on what? Specific guy, aren't you. I mean…if you are a guy…are you?"
Perry laughed.
"Lol."
Wyatt pouted.
"Rudeness. Well, are you a guy?"
"Yes."
"Damn."
Perry smacked Wyatt upside the head with a peardrop, and he yelped.
"Perv."
"I am not! Anyway…" he glanced at the clock, and Perry did too, and panicked when he saw he had less than an hour left. He hastily grabbed for the peardrops.
"Go now."
"Wow, two words. Well, Perry, if you don't mind…I'll see you in the attic tomorrow morning? Practice picking up pens and writing." Wyatt smiled as the peardrops moved once more.
"Fine."
He left up the stairs, leaving Wyatt to finished the promised clearing up alone, clutching the large orange peardrop in his hand.
A/N: So, now we discover that we have a little bit of a problem…two Chris'. Not that that's a bad thing at all, really.
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