Neurotic


A story of Christopher Perry Halliwell


Disclaimer: Charmed doesn't belong to me.


Chapter The Third


"Your grandfather is a genius, I swear." Victor danced triumphantly through the front door, juggling a bag of groceries, his key and his digital camera.

"Blowing your own trumpet, eh?" Chris commented as he rounded the corner with a grin, rubbing his eyes sleepily before taking the bag of shopping from him. "Or should I be more worried that you're referring to yourself in the third person?"

Victor flashed a wry smile at his grandson. "Neither. I just completely solved your problem."

Chris squinted at him dubiously as they walked together to the small kitchen, working in a flawless dance to put the food away that Victor silently marvelled at. Chris must have been around him a lot in the future to have learned his habits this well. "What did you do?" Chris asked, suspiciously. "You didn't tell them-"

"-who you were?" Victor shook his head. "No. That's your job," he said, watching Chris squirm. "Nope. This was my great idea!" He held forth the digital camera triumphantly.

Chris rolled his eyes. "Great idea, huh?"

Something about Chris' even-snarkier-than-usual tone made Victor's sense of elation stop suddenly. He looked up, puzzled. Chris twisted the display to him, and pressed the button to cycle through the pictures.

Every picture was of a couple of blank pages from the book.

Victor grabbed the camera in disbelief, then pressed buttons furiously. "I don't believe this! It worked in the house!"

"Well, it would," Chris said evenly as he put some tins away. "Magic affects electricity in strange ways. While you were in the house, the screen would show it, but outside the house - or if you tried to print it anywhere - the pages would appear empty."

Victor sulked silently for a second. "You seem to know an awful lot about it," he said, sullen. He bent to put some potatoes into the vegetable rack, and then squinted at it. "Did you tidy up in here?" He edged one eyebrow at Chris, who squirmed uncomfortably for a moment. "You're definitely your mother's son."

Chris grinned sheepishly. "I had to have a break from The Map," he said. "And my fingers itch when I see messiness. I can't help it. It's a curse, I swear."

Victor just shook his head ruefully. "How's The Map going?"

"Soooo frustrating." Chris shook his head, and walked through the connecting door to the small dining room. Over the table was spread a large piece of paper, with Chris' neat handwriting all over it, in columns. The Map he'd started the day after telling Victor his secret. For the last couple of weeks, Victor had been trying to sneak information from the Book of Shadows to help Chris add more possibilities to the different columns, but it was taking a long time. A long, long time.

"Well, breaks are good. You can help me put the shopping away, if you like," Victor said.

Chris nodded, and took up one of the bags, putting everything naturally away in the proper places as if he didn't even have to think about it. Victor wondered if it was because of the tidying up session, or that he had this apartment for a long time in the future and Chris had spent a lot of time in it. Maybe both.

It was certainly making Victor think a lot about the future, something he'd been keen not to think of lately.

"You didn't answer my question," Victor said, sliding frozen meals into the small freezer. Normally he'd have to cram them in, but Chris had tidied up in there too. He really, really, really was his mother's son. If Victor had had any doubts, this would have wiped them out of the way.

"Huh?" Chris looked at him, an expression of confusion on his face.

"How you knew a lot about the digital camera being unable to work," Victor said, a little sullenly. He'd thought it was a really great plan, after all.

Chris arched one eyebrow at him. "That was a question?"

Victor wrinkled his nose a little. "Yes. I may not have specifically worded it exactly as a question, but-"

"-you were hinting at it," Chris finished, a smile slowly coming onto his face. He leaned back against the counter, his hands gripping the worn surface, his brown hair falling into his eyes a little. His eyes, normally a sparkling green, had dulled. He looked as if he was far, far away. Victor was about to ask him if he was okay, but the young man started to speak on his own. "When I turned six, I was really fascinated with the book. It hasn't really stopped since. It keeps changing, you see, and there's so much in there. You know, we would go through it every time there was a demon- we would have to. I guess I figured studying it would let me help them." He smiled ruefully at that. "Not like they listened to me when they came across something I could help them with."

Chris fell silent for a while. Victor, uncertain of what to do but feeling Chris' sadness, stepped forwards and put his hand tentatively on Chris' arm. Chris smiled at him, a more genuine smile, at the gesture.

"That must have been hard," Victor sympathised, his voice low.

Chris shrugged, and looked away. "Nah, not really," he said briskly, but Victor knew he was lying. He decided to let that one go, in case Chris wanted to open up some more. "Anyway, mom thought I looked at the book too much, that I was paranoid when I started to see Wyatt—" He paused heavily.

"See Wyatt… doing things he shouldn't?" Victor guessed.

"Yes," Chris admitted heavily, hanging his head and studying the pattern of the tiles. "Of course, I was just the young one, who was neurotic." He spoke the words with bitterness. "I wasn't Wyatt. Twice-blessed."

Taking pity on Chris' obvious pain, Victor made a sound of confusion. Chris looked up at him. "You know, I've never got that," Victor said. "Twice-blessed, right? Son of a Charmed One and a Whitelighter. Isn't that you, too?"

Chris laughed, but it wasn't a laugh Victor enjoyed to hear because it was obvious Chris was tightly holding back tears. It wasn't obvious by his eyes being a little glazed over; it was just obvious by his expression. The same one Piper had used, as a toddler, when she'd hurt her knee and was trying to be brave like Prue (oh, Prue) and pretend it didn't hurt. "Yeah," Chris said, and if his voice was a little rough Victor didn't pick him up on it. "That's me, too." He smiled as if enjoying a private joke.

Victor shook his head. "I don't get it, what's so funny?"

"I-" Chris' face tightened. "Future issues. I'm sorry. I don't mean to-"

"It's all right," Victor said, hurrying to reassure him. "Anyway, the photos?"

"Oh, right." Chris actually shook his head a little, as if to shake away the sudden gloom he'd put himself into. "Um, I was so down because of being kept away from it, and you wanted to cheer me up. So you decided to make Wyatt and I our own."

"With the digital camera," Victor realised. "Oh, man, you've at least saved me from messing up there!"

Chris grinned a toothy grin at his grandfather. "I'm half tempted to whip up some kind of forgetting potion to make you forget it doesn't work. The expression on your face the first time when you hooked it up to the printer, set it up to print it all, and it just kept spewing out plain pages…" Chris snickered lightly at the memory.

"I'm glad you still had some happy memories in your time," Victor said, honestly.

Chris' head whipped up at that, his face crunched in confusion for a brief moment, before it relaxed in surprise. "I-" A softer smile played on his face, and Chris looked off into the distance, obviously replaying some of the happier moments in his mind. "Yeah. I won't lie. The latter half of my life has been crap, and even with the constant peril of demon attacks, and mom and Leo putting Wyatt over me most of the time- There was some good times. There were some great times."

Victor moved his hand from Chris' arm to his shoulder, giving it a warm crunch before letting his arm fall at his side. "Well, I'd love to hear some more some time if there are any that won't change the future," Victor said.

"Sure," Chris said, although there was a little reluctance in his eyes.

"But only if it doesn't hurt too much," Victor hurried to add.

Chris made as if to smile at that, but it was obviously too much. His face screwed up slightly, and he was clenching his fists tightly, his face going slightly red as he fought the tears. He screwed his eyes shut, then opened them slightly, tears glistening in them, unshed. "Yeah," he managed, his voice a little forced, and Victor felt so much anger towards whoever had managed to do this to his grandson. He moved forwards, gathering him in his arms. Chris leant into him, his head burrowing into his shoulder. It was only by Chris' shoulders, shaking so slightly, that Victor even knew he was crying.

"Ssshh, ssshh," Victor soothed, rubbing his hands up and down Chris' back like he used to with his girls before- but he broke that thought of. It wouldn't do for both of them to break down. "Just let it all out."

Eventually Chris pulled away, his cheeks red and his eyes a dazzling green. "Sorry," he whispered.

"Hey," Victor commanded, his voice gentle, "we'll have none of that apologising while you're under my roof."

"Sorry," Chris immediately said, and then blushed. He looked up sheepishly. Victor laughed.

"How 'bout I fix us some dinner, eh? Lamb chops sound good to you?" Victor asked.

Chris looked at him, and edged a look towards where The Map was spread out. Clearly torn, he looked blankly at Victor for a second.

"You're leaving that thing alone tonight," Victor said.

"But-" Chris said, but Victor suspected it was more out of habit than of a real desire to work on it.

"No. You're tired, emotionally and physically, and it won't do for you to pass out," Victor said. "I promise, tomorrow, we will work out some way for you to get to the book. But for tonight, not a word about it. You understand me, Mr. Halliwell?"

Chris laughed out loud at that, and saluted. "Yes, sir!"

"Now be on with you," Victor ordered. "I know what you Halliwells are like in the kitchen. Out. Out! Or do I have to take a spoon to you?"

Laughing, Chris held up his hands and walked backwards out of the room. "Not the spoon, anything but the spoon!"

"Get on with you," Victor chuckled, watching Chris to make sure he went to sit down. He watched his grandson fondly for a moment, and started to get the meat out of the fridge, thinking desperately of a way to get Chris to the book. He needed a distraction, a good one, and fast.