Neurotic


Summary: "My name's not Chris Perry," Chris said, as if it was the hardest thing he'd ever had to say. "It's Christopher." He paused, almost reluctantly. "Christopher Halliwell."

Disclaimer: Charmed and Chris still don't belong to me, doo dah, doo dah, I'm not making any money from this, oh, dah doo dah day.


Chapter The Second


Chris stared at his entwined hands, perched gently on the knees of his worn jeans, tracing the interlocked patterns of his twisted fingers. This truth thing was just as hard a thing as he reckoned it was going to be.

Hey, it wasn't as if he could have come to the past all hi, Piper, yeah, I'm Chris, your unborn unconceived child. He'd have been handed a whole symphony of disbelief, and the programme too. And finding the words since had been nigh on impossible. There'd been a moment where he'd thought Phoebe might have cottoned on to him, but that moment had passed.

So now he was sitting on his grandfather's couch, staring at his own hands rather than face seeing disbelief on the face of the one person who'd really always been there for him.

"All right," Victor said, a little unevenly. Chris just wanted to ball up in a corner and bury his face deep in his hands, and not wake up until his family had realised hey, they were his family, how about that. Realising it wasn't going to happen, Chris reluctantly lifted his face up.

Victor didn't look disgusted. Chris knew his grandfather well enough to know that he was just normal run-of-the-mill confused, with a hint- a hint of belief on his face.

"You want proof, right?" Chris asked weakly, unable to think of any proof he could actually give.

"Uh, who was Melinda Warren?" Chris knew Victor must have heard the girls mention her. It was a question that Chris could have researched in the future, or even the present, but if Chris hesitated a moment Victor would know Chris didn't intimately know who she was.

"The beginning of the Halliwell family line," Chris said promptly. "She gave us our powers. Our destiny."

"What's the secret ingredient in the Halliwell blueberry cobbler?"

"Honey and a splash of rum," Chris said, smiling briefly. "Although mom discovers in about four years that melting chocolate and butter with a splash of whiskey makes a great sauce to go with it."

"Where was I born?"

"Dryburn hospital, Durham, North East England. Your mom was holidaying in England to see some of your relatives, and fell into labour in the cinema, watching Kill It Before It Dies," Chris said, just as quickly as before. "It's where Aunt Phoebe heard of the film, and went convinced she was going to love it, and then did."

"What's my favorite beer?"

"Stella." Chris wrinkled his nose. He didn't agree.

"Who wins the next Superbowl?"

Chris opened his mouth to respond, then shut it, glowering darkly at his grandfather. "Granddad," he whined instead, looking at Victor petulantly, but suddenly happy. He knew he'd passed the test.

"All right, all right," Victor conceded, looking brighter than he had when he'd opened the door. It was nearing half past one and his grandfather didn't look as if he cared any more. "I'm convinced. Besides," and Victor cocked his head to one side, "you look a little like me at that age."

"I do?" Suddenly perky, Chris beamed, obviously delighted.

Victor's eyes twinkled in pleasure. "Yeah." Then he was suddenly business-like again. "So what did you want to talk to me about? This whole seven week thing..."

Chris squirmed a little on the seat. "Since I've come here, I've been on a deadline. One's passed - I almost wasn't, um-" He winced a little at Victor. "Uhh, let's just say it was nine months before I was due to be born, and, um, mom and Leo hadn't-"

Victor summarily winced. "Oh, oh. Oh." His head flung up awkwardly, cricking his neck, but he didn't care. "But they did, y'know, didn't they?"

Chris nodded. "Yeah. I mean, I started to disappear, and it was scary for a while, but I managed to explain it away by saying mom saves the life of my mother sometime in the future, and so if she potentially died, my mother would potentially die too, causing me to cease to exist."

"God," Victor breathed. He looked undecided for a moment, before getting to his feet and crossing over to sit on the uncomfortable sofa next to Chris. He put one tentative arm on Chris' elbow. "You must have been so scared."

Touched, Chris looked at his grandfather. "I-" He let his eyes fall, to look at his grandfather's hands, worn and callused. "Yeah, I was. And they were right there and I couldn't tell them that they-" He stilled, suddenly silent.

"And now there's a second deadline?" Victor asked, taking pity when he saw Chris' distress.

"Y-yeah." Chris lifted his head. "Whatever turns Wyatt does it before I'm born." He smiled wryly. "And you saw how close she was."

"Seven weeks close," Victor said, just as wryly. Chris laughed. Victor then looked thoughtful. Chris looked at him quizzically. "Are- Wait, are you allowed to tell me stuff like this? You know, being from the future and all. Piper was whining about your spiel on future consequences..."

Chris shifted a little. "Actually, you're probably the safest person to tell stuff to." Suddenly shy, he looked away. " No offence meant, but you-"

Victor arched a long look at him, which Chris saw when he turned back. "My lack of powers make me less dangerous?"

"Um. Sort of," Chris mumbled. "And the fact that I can't tell them anything that could change the future in a bad way and hurt them, means that if I tell you-"

"I wouldn't want them hurt, and wouldn't tell them," Victor realised.

"Yeah," Chris breathed. "And I-" His face tightened. "I needed to talk to someone. Being around them all the time, with them not trusting me, hating me..." His voice trailed off to a breathy whisper. "I come from a future where Wyatt is turned evil. I'm talking levelling countries, letting demons rule the planet, evil. And I can't even tell them that much. But I need to find out who turns him, and stop it from happening. Billions die in the future, billions of innocent lives. Demons terrorize the general population that's still alive in return for giving their allegiance to Wyatt. Goodness is- pushed into the corners. Struggling. We didn't have much time left when I came here."

Victor was silent, his face gaunt with the knowledge of what Wyatt - cute, innocent, golden Wyatt - could grow up to become, if he wasn't stopped. He pictured global destruction, a world of darkness, the world Chris had grown up in, and was sitting here now. A survivor. Wanting to change it, so the world wouldn't have to suffer what he had.

Pride welled up in him. "Are-" His throat closed up around the question. "Are we close in the future?"

Chris' entire demeanour changed. He looked a little less like the weight of the universe was squarely on his young shoulders. "Yeah, you're awesome," he enthused, before realising what he'd said and flushing awkwardly. He grinned sheepishly at Victor. "You're my favorite person to spend time with in the future. I love hanging out with you."

The swelling pride grew a little more, and Victor beamed, happy. "I've got to admit I'm a little surprised. I mean..." He floundered a little for the words. He decided to take Chris' tack - honesty. "It's no secret I wasn't the greatest dad. It means a lot to me that I could do something for you. To make up for it."

"Yeah. After the Event we got really close," Chris said, his face tightening again. He lowered his eyes to the threadbare carpet, exhaling slowly.

"The Event?" Victor's breath quickened. He could almost hear the capitals in Chris' weary voice.

"I- I can't," Chris whispered, looking miserable. "It could change the future in unimaginable ways if you knew. I can't risk that."

"But you came back to change the future," Victor retorted, almost angrily.

"I know," Chris said, just as miserably as before. "And I wish I could tell you everything. But I can't." He hung his head slightly. "I can't," he repeated, his voice wavering.

"OK," Victor said.

Chris looked up, confused. "OK?"

"Yeah," Victor said. "You can't tell me now, I understand." He looked at Chris slowly, the feeling rushing through him softly that this boy was his grandson. His grandson. Whom he hadn't managed to screw up. Who would grow up to trust him this much.

Chris looked a thousand times more relieved.

"Why don't you tell the girls the truth?" Victor asked directly, too tired to pussyfoot around the question.

Chris blanched. "They don't exactly trust me at the moment," he said, wrinkling his nose. "The whole, letting a demon near my brother thing."

Victor bristled a little, suddenly suspicious of Chris' motivations. "Why did you do that?"

"I was trying to look for the evil that turns Wyatt," Chris said, after a long pause. "Evil smells evil, unfortunately. Be glad it was that demon, one of the uh- I really wanna say people, but that doesn't do humans any favours - anyway, one of them said they'd resurrect Belthazor for me. Which, you know, wouldn't have really been a good idea, even though Cole would have been able to sense who turns Wyatt in a minute."

"Really wouldn't have been a good idea," Victor agreed ferverently. "All right. You win."

"What?"

Victor suppressed the smirk threatening to break onto his face. His grandson (grandson!) was looking hopelessly confused. "You came here for my help, right? You win. You got me. I'll help you."

Chris' mouth opened and closed several times. "I- uh-" His entire posture relaxed. "Thanks," he breathed, relief evident on his face.

"But I have some conditions," Victor said.

"All right," Chris replied, stifling a yawn and then looking apologetically at Victor.

"One, you stay here. With me. Two, you tell me the truth, always. If there's something you can't talk about because of the future, then say so. Three, you tell your family the truth." Victor put one hand softly on top of Chris' as the young witch-Whitelighter's eyes widened in panic. "Not now. It's just, they deserve to know Chris. They deserve to feel what I feel when I look at you."

Wariness and relief tangled together on Chris' face.

"I'm so proud of you," Victor explained. Wonder lit up Chris' face so instantly that Victor could hardly believe that his girls hadn't realised who he was. Piper stared back at him too from that face, from the messy mop of hair to the shape of his face. Leo's eyes blinked back at him too, warmer than he'd ever seen Leo look at anyone. "You'll be okay sleeping on the couch, right?"

Chris' face broke into the widest, most genuine smile of relief and joy that Victor had seen in a long time. "Are you kidding? Me and Lumpy go way back." Chris patted the sofa with the ease of familiarity.

"Lumpy?" Victor laughed out loud. "I'll go get you some blankets," he said, getting to his feet. "We'll get some sleep and tomorrow, we're going to come up with a plan of action."

Chris obediently copied him, getting to his feet and starting to rearrange the cushions on 'Lumpy'. He took the blankets and pillows that Victor handed him gratefully. "Thanks."

"Sleep well," Victor said, reaching out one hand to ruffle Chris' hair good-naturedly. Chris rolled his eyes.

"Night, grandpa," Chris said, without realising what he'd said until he saw the grin of happy disbelief on his grandfather's face.

"Night." Victor watched Chris pull the sheets into place. He moved like Patty. His heart marveled silently. He went to bed and fell asleep still wondering how come no one could have seen that Chris was through-and-through a Halliwell.