Title: "All In The Family"
Author: Shaitanah
Rating: G
Timeline: Season 6, obviously. Before "Chris-crossed".
Summary: Sequel to "Cold" Chris recovers from flu in the manor and remembers the time when the house of the Charmed Ones became a museum.
Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed. Though I suppose I own Chris's inner Wyatt.
A/N: This is a sequel, or rather a companion piece, to my little one-shot "Cold". You don't actually have to read it, however, you'd better do if you want to know how Chris fell ill. I'd also appreciate if you read and reviewed both. Thank you, enjoy!
ALL IN THE FAMILY
So don't let the world bring you down.
Not everyone here is that fed up and cold.
Remember why you came and while you're alive,
Experience the warmth before you grow old.
Incubus. The Warmth
The first pallid, weak ray of sunlight glided amid dull-grey clouds, crept inside the attic through the cracks in the roof and danced across the dusty floor-boards. The room was kept exactly as it was in beginning of the XXI century: piles of boxes stuffed with old rubbish, antic furniture, empty dirty potion vials, worn clothes. Bianca sneezed and hurried to fling the window open. It was a little hard to breathe because of dust.
Chris chuckled lightly as he regarded his girlfriend with admiration. A former Phoenix assasin witch wearing baggy shirt (his baggy shirt) and skin-tight black shorts, her hair tied in a knot at the back of her head, a huge brush in her hands – that was a show to die for.
"Very funny!" frowned Bianca. "A single word – and I'm not helping you out here!"
Chris bit his lip before he would make a nasty comment. It was really hard to talk Bianca into this cleaning session. He wouldn't let her quit now!
She dragged a first box out of the corner. Old cardboard got unstuck in an instant. Bianca sighed, exasperated, and wiped her stained hands over Chris's t-shirt. He knitted his brows quizically, then grabbed a moist floor-cloth and sent it up at her. Bianca squealed, rushed away from it, bursting out into laughter. 'Time for a little magic', Chris thought and held the rag airborne telekinetically. It looked like a little muddy plane straining to find its airport.
Bianca suddenly ended up behind his back. He didn't have enough time to turn around; she fell him down, and they rolled about the floor, laughing, screaming, having fun.
From the very beginning Chris was opposed to this 'brilliant' idea of Wyatt. Ever since their magic was revealed, his brother – the damn Lord of All Things – had been coming up with numerous ideas, usually one worse than another. The latest was to found a museum of the Charmed Ones to honour the power of their mother and her sisters, the greatest white witches ever. The museum was to be located in their old house on Prescott-street. Wyatt's people cleaned up every corner of the manor, replaced broken furniture, installed a large 3D-viewscreen that would reproduce the history of witchcraft and the Charmed Ones. They arranged a small potion shop with a separate entrance, put models of fairytale creatures the witches used to turn into and provided each exhibit with a detailed description. Wyatt even ordered to make a small souvenier store where citizens could buy things with a symbol of trefoil. It was ridiculous, in some way even heretic, in Chris's opinion. It was no honour but a mock. But he could do nothing about Wyatt growing schizophrenic.
Bianca shrieked happily all of a sudden, bringing Chris back to here and now abruptly. She was holding a pair of gorgeous red leather boots, slightly sprinkled with black dots but altogether rather shiny and new. Jesus, they must have been around 50 years old!
"They're so… stylish! Guess I should try them on. They should fit just fine!" Bianca spluttered with excitement. She put her slender leg on a small bench, took of her sneaker about to push her foot into the boot.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you", Chris commented carefully.
"I certainly hope not!" Bianca exclaimed, trying to suppress laughter hopelessly.
The look on her boyfriend's face was priceless. His expression changed from dead-grey to bright red in a tiny particle of a second. Blood rushed back from his face soon as he stuttered to say something. Bianca ceased restraining herself and giggled loudly in the open. Chris muttered something grimly inaudible.
"Chill out, darling, I'm just making fun of you!"
"Still I wouldn't–".
"Okay, why?" she asked impatiently. "Where's the catch?"
"They belonged to Penny Halliwell, you see. Grams".
Bianca stared at him, waiting for a better reason. "So? Will her spirit haunt me forever if I try her boots once? I'm not gonna steal them, Chris!"
He opened his mouth to explain. She kept piercing him with her gaze. A sacred rule: never annoy a Phoenix witch! Chris smirked quietly. It could be a hell of a lot of fun!
"On the other hand", he remarked, "why not? Come on, they should suit you".
Bianca nodded and turned back to the boots, but then something stopped her. Now that was the catch. "No, seriously, Chris, why? What can happen?"
The bratty witch was back to cleaning, not eager to continue the argument. Bianca wailed in despair, torn between her love for fashion and extreme curiousity.
"What exactly is this?" asked Leo, pointing at Chris soundly asleep on the bed.
The room was freshly ventilated, bottles of febrifuge and vitamines piled on the nighttable. The curtains rustled quietly by the open window. Chris's clothes hang loose on the chair. The youth turned his head, muttered something, being away from reality, and sank back into the stillness of his sickened sleep.
"This is a sick boy who you refused to help, mister!" Piper said in an accusatory tone.
"I can see that. I mean, why is he here? In the house?"
"He has fever, he can barely realize where he is. I couldn't just leave him in the club with all those strange people, guests, workers, musicians. P3 isn't anywhere you'd want to be when you're ill".
Something about that speech struck Piper with its simplicity. Strange people. Chris… Chris just wasn't strange. He wasn't family, but he wasn't a stranger.
None of them noticed it when Chris woke up. He couldn't think very clearly and it took him a long while to figure out what happened. 'Right… Ice Demon – cold – Piper brought me here. What's here? Agh… the manor! And those two are…'
Morning, brother! Wyatt's meddlesome imaginable voice greeted him with venomous cheer. Chris sighed, aggravated. Nope, he'd never leave him be! I'm glad you're okay. I was beginning to worry. It's just a little hard to have fun when noone is around. What do we have here? Mommy and Daddy arguing about their junior nightmare of a kid! Terrific! I told you Leo would go insane!
Chris wasn't sure that 'insane' fit the situation. Leo emphasized the threat coming from the 'future boy' who left so many things unsaid, but he sounded perfectly logical. Chris tensed on the inside: what if Piper decided to listen to him and kick Chris out?
Naw! She wouldn't do that! You're such a cute poor thing, brother, and Mommy's so ggod and kind. Just give her those tear-filled puppy-dog eyes that melt ice when you decide to make yourself known to her and she'll leave you here for the rest of your days!
"I still believe it's unreasonable. As for the club, come on! He doesn't sleep on the stage".
Inside Chris's mind Wyatt laughed like a mad man, praising Dad's sense of humour.
"So much for the Elder, Leo", Piper said stubbornly. "Chris stays here, you go now and do… whatever you Elders do regularly!"
Chris shut his eyes when Leo orbed out. Piper sweared lightly under her breath (huh! She wouldn't have done it knowing he'd heard it) and went out of the room.
It's been four days since Piper let him stay in the manor. Leo had discovered his presence only now, but then again Leo didn't live there either. The thought of it brought weird satisfaction to Chris's heart.
Yep, I told you fiendish pleasure could be a lot of fun. However, if Mom and Dad do split, so much the worse for you. Might I remind you that you, my friend, DO NOT EXIST there yet?
Chris almost fell out of the bed. Damn! For once his bloody demon was right.
Of course, Mom could date someone else in the meantime. You might even come to be my stepbrother. However, being a half-blood that you are, you should definitely prefer Leo for your father unless Mom meets another whitelighter!
Choking with cough, Chris decided to worry about that fact later. To loath Leo as a lousy father was one thing; to have someone else father him – totally another. Chris envied Wyatt: the little brat had already been born. For a second Chris considered another step in 'saving' Wyatt (or saving the world from Wyatt): to go even farther back in time to prevent Wyatt's birth. The thought seemed oddly luring. Then he squeezed it from his consciousness and went back to restoring sleep.
Bianca whirled around her imperturbable boyfriend for an hour, begging him to talk to her, bombarding him with constant 'why?' and 'please, please, please!', but he remained impassive. Finally she forsook her attempts, determined to try the boots on at any cost.
"Well, que sera sera!" she said. "But if anything happens to me, my ghost will haunt you every night".
Chris made a warm laugh. "Gee, I'd settle for that!" Just when she put the boots on he remarked casually: "It's just that Grams loved to bewitch her things to come back to her. So these boots might take you back, say, 50 or 60 years ago".
Bianca goggled at him, stressed, then pulled the boots off hysterically and hurled them at Chris. He rushed away from that lethal weapon. Bianca jumped in place, shrieking at him that he should have warned her before because she could have gone back in time with poor perspective to come back, that he was 'dishonest, and treacherous, and simply a bastard'. Typical Bianca!
Chris tripped over and sprawled on the floor. Some box's content fell down on him, making him moan theatrically in order to attract Bianca's attention. It didn't work, though.
"No way I'm feeling sorry for you after what you've done, Mr Liar! Dream on".
Chris pulled himself from under the box. There was a couple of tattered old scrapbooks.
"Wow, look! These are our baby pictures".
Bianca sat down by his side, helping him to clean the heavily dusted pages. Through its thick layer she could distinguish two little boys. One was taller, blond and blue-eyed, very sunny. The other one was chubby, dark-haired and wore a funny quizzical expression, trailing after his big brother.
"You are so cute! How old are you here?"
"I don't know", Chris shrugged. "Around 3 or 4, I guess. Wyatt was way too normal at that age!"
Bianca giggled. They turned over to another page. The next photo represented the whole family. A good-looking woman with straight brown hair loose over her shoulders was holding two boys on her laps. A glamorous tanned woman with short artificial curls was on her right, their round-faced junior half-sister on her left. All three witches were smiling happy, sincere smiles.
"Hey, that's Mom!" Chris exclaimed, his voice a bit shaky. "And that's Aunt Phoebe and Aunt Paige. I wish you could meet them. They were really awesome. Especially Phoebe, a terrific ass-kicker! You two would get along well".
Bianca leaned her chin against Chris's shoulder, eyeing him thoughtfully. Perhaps they shouldn't have undertaken this cleaning session. It pained Chris a lot obviously. She told him that. He shook his head and went on sorting the scrapbooks.
"Why does Wyatt want us to take care of the attic?" Bianca wondered. "I thought he said he would allow no tours here".
"I suggest you go ask him", Chris pinned her.
"Chris. It's time to take your medicine".
"One more decade, Mom!" the youth protested. He was still aching immensely all over, his voice hoarse and low because of his sore throat. Piper chuckled. It wasn't the first time he'd called her Mom.
"Aren't you too big to require Mommy's presence?" she teased softly. The youngster still murmured something, calling names she'd never heard, apologizing for some acts of the past. Piper wiped his sweaty forehead, urging him to settle down. "It's okay, Chris. Everything's going to be fine".
"Hey, how's it going?" she heard Phoebe ask. The middle Halliwell sister was spraying her hair with gloss, preparing to go out.
"Fine", Piper replied. "His temperature should drop tomorrow. It's been 4 days. He should be back in the club. Leo is freaking out. Quite annoying really".
Unknowingly Chris gripped Piper's fingers again and murmured something under his breath. Phoebe lowered a hairbrush and looked at her sister, puzzled.
"Wait, did he just call you Mom?"
"He does that sometimes. Mistakes me for someone dear. It must be so hard for him out here. I've never put it like that before, but can you imagine being so far away from your family, friends?.. People move to foreign countries and can barely cope with loneliness, but Chris moved back in time! What, more than 20 years back! I suppose he doesn't even exist here. His parents might not have met yet. He has noone here".
"Noone but us", Phoebe said thoughtfully. "Do you think he knows us in the future?"
Chris's breath slowed down, getting lighter and calmer. He still clutched Piper's hand, though. She sat down on the bed by his side, brushed greasy brown fringe away from his face.
"Phoebe, he's a whitelighter. Every whitelighter knows us".
"That's not what I meant".
Piper considered her question for a moment. Chris had come to save the world from the Titans. At least that's what he named as a reason. He told them there was chaos unleashed in his future. The Charmed Ones were probably dead there. After a brief hesitation the older Halliwell shook her head.
"Can you scan him?"
"Never could. He's a closed book. Frankly speaking, I'm glad about it: he's so jumpy!" Phoebe glimpsed at her elegant wristwatch. "Ooh, okay, I gotta go, otherwise, Elise will take her low spirits out on poor little moi".
Piper smiled. The door shut quietly. She was alone with Chris again. She regarded him with sudden interest. She never really looked at him closer since he'd taken Leo's place in the Charmed Ones' life. He was a handsome young man, and there was something strikingly familiar about him. His hair was the same shade as hers. He resembled slightly her father's early years photographs. Chris could have easily passed for Victor's son or grandson. What if?..
Piper snorted ironically. Relentless demon-hunts had resulted in huge paranoia.
"Mom", Chris whispered.
Piper freed herself from his grip, patted his hair tenderly and promised: "You'll come back to your family safe, I swear".
Don't go making promises you know you cannot keep, Wyatt would say if Chris could hear him. But hopefully, he couldn't.
Things didn't hum: by four o'clock in the evening they hardly sorted out a quarter of the attic. Hunched as a question mark, Chris rummaged in rags, yawning and dreaming of shower. Dust was everywhere. Bianca massaged his shoulders gently to help him ease the tension.
In the end, they found a small box stuffed with pins, kirby-grips, slides, hairdressing 'butterflies', colorful elastics and ribbons. Chris knew exactly who all that used to belong to: the Halliwell that tortured her hair more than any of the sisters. Bianca couldn't conceal her amusement. She sifted through those tiny jewels studiously, a shy smile blooming on her lips. She had never seemed more beautiful to Chris than here at this attic, dressed in second hand clothes, digging into the past of his family. After all, Wyatt was right: they belonged in history.
"They're Phoebe's", Chris mumbled. "Why don't you take them? They'd look gorgeous in your hair".
Bianca was trying a rich purple flower with a golden pin on at the moment. She nearly let it slip through her fingers, gaping at Chris.
"No! I can't accept that. These are your family relics!"
"I don't need them. Neither does Wyatt… I think. Phoebe wouldn't mind if you had them".
Things like that should stay in the family. And Bianca… Bianca was family. Almost. Chris gave her a warm smile. She smiled back, then arched her brows suspiciously.
"Wait a minute. Phoebe didn't bewitch her belongings, did she?"
"Naw", Chris laughed out and hugged her. "Though who knows? They were the Charmed Ones!"
Chris got better before the week was out. His disease retreated; he restored his strength and was soon about to go back to P3.
You tire me when you're well, Wyatt's reaction followed. You're absolutely no fun if you feel fine. Get sick again!
Chris brushed his teeth, rinsed and looked at his reflection in the mirror. His face was still unhealthily pale, dark shades encircled his eyes which, hopefully, hadn't lost their fire. His nose was no longer swollen and red, cracked scab vanished from his lips with no trace. Chris rubbed some dried toothpaste off his chin, smoothed his unruly hair and orbed downstairs, satisfied.
"You're leaving?" Piper called. "No goodbye, no 'thank you, Piper, for babysitting your troubled whitelighter'?"
Chris chuckled. "Thanks. But relax: I'll be back to continue chasing demons very soon. We shouldn't let them–".
"…harm Wyatt. Hey, I'm his mother, I know better".
"Sure, Mom", Chris blurted out. Piper knitted her brows. Well-well, a fatal blunder. "Figurally speaking! Okay, gotta go. Cheers!"
"Chris", Piper held him up. He growled quietly so that she couldn't hear it. His tormentor found it quite amusing. Superb! Normal people had inner voice; he had inner Wyatt. "Where are your parents? Back in the future, I mean".
"They died", he gave an instant reply. "A long time ago. I prefer not to talk about it. I'm sure you understand why".
Piper nodded. Chris started towards the door, but an interesting thought intruded in his mind. He had to keep all things under control.
"When I was, you know, delirious, did I say anything? Anything at all? In general…"
Piper flashed him an understanding smile. "You didn't give away any future secrets, no need to worry".
Relieved, Chris left the manor. In the bright light of morning everything seemed fine.
Chris woke up, feeling a prickly old towel beneath his cheek. He was lying on the floor, dust in his hair and his clothes. Bianca was sitting by the window, looking out at the city covered with a dense veil of night.
"You fell asleep", she said. "Our little undertaking was pretty exhausting. I've been thinking, you know: why don't we stop here? No more cleaning".
"Wyatt will kill us".
Bianca snorted. "Duh, if he does notice! The purpose of the museum is to keep the house exactly as it was when it belonged to the sisters, right?"
"We didn't have these weird lay-figures downstairs and scanning probes, but basically, yeah".
"My point is that this attic is the exact copy of their attic. Old stuff of Prue, Piper, Phoebe and Paige. Let's keep it safe".
Chris considered the idea for a moment. It seemed sensible. Yes, in their honour. Wyatt's plan wasn't appealing from the start, turning the manor into some kind of a circus. But here and only here it would represent the real Charmed Ones.
June 16, 2006