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 don't belong to me, doo dah, doo dah, I'm not making any money from this, oh, dah doo dah day.


Chapter The Eighth


"Something's really weird about all of this," Paige said, as she mopped up some of the debris in the attic.

Phoebe looked across at her sister and nodded. "I know. This water is so black. I mean, is it even water? It's totally stained my favourite sandals…" At her words, she looked down at them. "But- ooh, they're black now! Maybe they'll go with that strappy halter top I bought the other day-"

Paige looked at her older sister incredulously. "What are you on?" She demanded. "And where can I get some?"

"Heh?" Phoebe pulled a face as she continued mopping up the mysterious black water with some old rags. "I-"

"Never mind," Paige grouched. "I was just wondering about how weird this whole thing is. You know. With your dad and Chris being so chummy, and- Man, sometimes I really don't get Chris' stupid ways, but he was really in pain yesterday…"

"And what he said about Wyatt," Phoebe said, pausing as she locked gazes with Paige. "I wish I could say that he was lying, but-" She faltered. "He was telling the truth, I could feel it to the very core of my bones…"

Paige nodded slowly, resuming cleaning up as she did so. "I could feel it, too. Don't ask me how, but something- something inside- felt so badly for him."

Phoebe fell silent for a moment. "Hey, maybe we can… save a bit of this water. Maybe scry for it, see where it came from."

"Good idea," Paige said. "There's some spare potion jars on the undamaged bookcase over there."

Phoebe bobbed her head in agreement again, and climbed to her feet, the black water running down her bared legs. She hitched her rolled-up trousers higher so they wouldn't fall down again and be damaged, and walked carefully over to the bookcase.

She reached for one of the spare potion jars, her hand brushing one of the other ornaments, and she suddenly froze. Her eyes fluttered shut and she gasped, falling backwards in shock.

"Pheebs?"

Phoebe was faintly aware of Paige staggering to her feet and running over to her, but she couldn't muster the strength to stop her or turn around or even talk. Paige reached over, touching her shoulders and turning her around. Phoebe grabbed the ornament as she did so, holding it forth to Paige.

"I-" Phoebe stuttered. "I think Chris must have touched this." She put one hand to her forehead, her head resounding from the sudden images that had impacted her mind. "I saw- I don't know what I saw. I think I saw… Wyatt killing his mom…"

"You saw it?"

Both Phoebe and Paige turned to see a very pale and quiet Piper standing in the doorway, her face gaunt from the lack of sleep the previous night.

"I'm not sure," Phoebe said, chewing on her lower lip. "I saw a younger Chris – it was definitely him, Piper, but he looked – gods – so scared, barely a teenager. He was shouting and yelling at this lanky, blond-haired boy with a sword in his hand… Calling him Wyatt."

Phoebe trailed off, suddenly uncertain.

"And?" Paige demanded, impatiently.

"-the rest was so unclear," Phoebe said. "There was a woman- but I couldn't see her face. She had short, dark hair, and Wyatt—" Phoebe shuddered. "Just smirked over at Chris as he stabbed her. And Chris was screaming so hard, but I think- I think there was something holding him back, because he was struggling, and-- Wyatt—he killed someone else. I didn't see them, a darker figure, and—"

Phoebe was obviously struggling to recall it all, as he eyes closed and the rapid movement under her eyelids showed her fervour to remember what she'd seen.

After a moment, she continued. "-and Wyatt gestured and both the woman and the other person were flung into the lake… And the lake was so dark. Black, even. And there were…" Her head flung up in astonishment. "Cherry blossoms. Everywhere. All over the lake and the ground. And Wyatt, he- Chris must have been let go—'cause Wyatt was laughing, and Chris was scrambling over to the lake, and- And there was a name I heard called out too. Paul. But - Oh, god-" Phoebe had to stop. Paige pulled her shaking sister into a hug, and exchanged a long dark glance with Piper.

Piper couldn't hold the gaze, and she looked around at the destroyed attic. "No wonder he couldn't handle this…" she said, her voice light and tightened, as if she was in pain. "If I had to come back and find something like- like when Prue died-" She couldn't finish the sentence, and she looked back at Paige and Phoebe, hard. "We have to stop this from happening to Wyatt. We have to."

There was silence as mutual understanding reigned.

"Um, no offence Piper, but we told you to rest. What are you doing up here?" Paige asked, breaking the hush.

"Oh." Piper shook herself a little, as if to shake off the sombre mood. "Dad just called. Apparently Chris had a really rough night, so they're coming over this afternoon, not for lunch like we agreed."

"Great," Paige said grimly. "'cause there's something about that Map that I don't get. Leo explained how to use it really well, we'll be able to take out a satisfying number of demons over the next couple of weeks with it, but-" She frowned, her pretty face crumpling as her thoughts meandered over the one aspect of the Map troubling her. "There's that wide column that runs down the left, with all the initials in them. You know, like M.H., L.T., etc. Leo didn't tell us what it meant, and I asked him before he left. He said Chris never explained it to him either."

"Well, maybe it's just shorthand potion ingredients, or something," Phoebe said, with a shrug. "I'm sure it's all explainable."

"Well whatever it is, I'm sure we'll get an answer this afternoon," Piper said. "Are you sure you two can handle this?"

"Piece of cake," Paige said bravely, brandishing a dirty rag at Piper. Piper wrinkled her nose and held her hand to her mouth.

"Gnurggh," Piper said, eloquently.

"You! Get downstairs and rest your pregnant ass," Phoebe commanded, and Piper, with a rueful grin, complied. Phoebe looked across at Paige, who reached past her and picked up one of the empty jars.

"Watery stuff!" Paige commanded, and some of the black water sparkled into the jar that Paige held forth. She put the stopper in with a very determined look on her face. At Phoebe's look, she shrugged. "I still think we ought to find out where it is. Maybe take a look around." At Phoebe's continued stare, she hurried to add, "Without Chris, obviously."

"I don't know," Phoebe said, her voice trailing off a little. "Maybe he should go. Work out his feelings. To react like that- so violently… Paige, it hurt me, him seeing that. And with his feelings blocked to me already, I'd hate to feel what he's experiencing… He's trapped them up so badly that when a little bit of it got out-" She stopped, a smile with little humour falling on her face. "I've never felt anything like it before. So if he can get it out somehow, I think we should help."

"But he doesn't want to open up," Paige said, "at least not to us, anyway. And how come your dad is so sure he can be trusted?"

"I don't know," Phoebe said, "but I felt… I don't know… something almost like pride… from him. When he looked at Chris." Her eyes drifted out to where there was boarding over the windows until they could get the glass fixed. Light fell through into the attic in small beams where the wood didn't cover the opening, and a light breeze tousled the blossoms still carpeting the floor. "I feel like I'm almost grasping at what the truth is, but I can't quite reach it. And if I just found it-" She fell silent. "Am I making any sense?" She asked eventually.

"Nope," Paige said cheerfully. "But I trust you, so I'm thinking of just going with the flow for the moment."

"All-righty-then," Phoebe said.

"And without any Jim Carrey impersonations, that would be swell," Paige added.

Phoebe just laughed as she bent down to start clearing up again.


"Why can't we just walk?" Victor moaned. "It's a perfectly fine method of transportation."

Chris shot an amused glance at him. "Why couldn't we go for lunch? I was perfectly fine then."

Victor glared at him. "It wasn't my fault the tuna was so wet, and you know it."

"Wet?" Chris levelled a disbelieving look at him through a heavy curtain of brown hair. "You drowned it in vinegar. It's a good thing the fish was dead before you did that, that's all I have to say."

Victor narrowed his eyes. "You have a fascination with vinegar, don't you?"

"It's what the sisters threatened to fry me in," Chris said dismissively. "Are we going yet?"

"They what?" Victor spluttered.

"Threatened. To. Fry. Me. In. Vinegar," Chris said slowly, over-pronouncing each word. "Look, if I have to repeat everything I say, it'll be after four when we get there, and trust me – Mom hates lateness the most. Um. After dirtiness. Did you wash your hands?"

"Yes I washed my hands, mother," Victor snapped back, still looking decidedly angsty. At Chris' look, he held his hands out reluctantly. "Go on then."

Grinning, Chris orbed them out. They arrived in the hallway.

"Good, you're here!" Piper called out. She walked – well, waddled actually – out to greet them.

"You heard us?" Victor said, his head still ringing a little.

"Nah," Piper said. "It's exactly four. Chris at least has a thing for punctuality if nothing else."

Chris grimaced at her. "Thanks," he said, sarcastically.

"You forgot his gift of sarcasm," Victor pointed out.

"And that he needs his hair cutting," Piper added.

"And his constant secrecy!" Paige added, hurrying down the stairs drying her hair with a towel to join them.

"What, is this get at Chris day?" Chris demanded incredulously.

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, you know," Victor added, sharing an amused grin with Piper.

Chris mumbled something.

"What was that?" Piper asked, one eyebrow arched.

"I said, at least a little bit of wit is better than none at all," Chris said.

Piper chuckled a little at her dad's outraged expression. "Anyhow, we're communing in the dining room, I think."

"That's the place people serve actual food," Chris commented to his grandfather as they slowly joined Piper around the table. Chris noted his Map unrolled on it, and felt a little bit queasy as Paige sat on one chair forcing him to sit next to the column he'd been afraid they would ask him about.

"Very funny," Victor commented darkly. He rolled his eyes at Piper's quizzical glance. "Don't even- Well, let's just say you got your cooking ability from your mother."

"Yeah, did he try making sandwiches?" Piper asked Chris.

"Ahuh," Chris said. "I don't get how someone who can cook – I mean, you can cook, Mr. Bennett – but how do you mess up a sandwich?"

"With excessive vinegar," another voice said, and they turned to see Phoebe coming in from the kitchen with a pitched of Iced Tea and some homemade cookies.

"Actually, Chris, I think it's get at Victor day," Victor grouched.

There was a small amount of awkward silence as they all looked at each other. Chris shifted in his seat, and decided to bite the bullet, as it were.

"I'm guessing you've made sure I sat here for a reason," Chris said lightly, his green eyes lightening to become unreadable. "The one column Leo couldn't explain, right?"

"Disco," Paige said, as if saying bingo. Piper, Phoebe and Victor squinted at her while Chris just chuckled a little. "What?" Paige grouched. "You've never seen Pulp Fiction?"

Three heads shook at one.

"I have," Chris volunteered. "Actually, you showed it to me. Or… will show it to me." He wrinkled his nose a little again. "Time travel really does my head in."

"I do?" Paige looked a little confused. "I know you in the future, then?"

Chris shifted, suddenly uneasy. "-yes. But I can't-"

"-tell me how, I know, I know," Paige grouched. "Anyway. The column."

"With the initials?" Chris' voice was light, but the tension was obvious on his face. "It corresponds with the people killed by those demons."

"…I see," Paige said, subdued.

"But there's no P.H's anywhere," Phoebe said brightly. "That's a good thing, right?"

Chris smiled, humourlessly. "Right," he said, the sarcasm thick in his voice. The three sisters exchanged a glance. "Uh. So. Are you going to, um, start dealing with these demons?"

"We are," Piper agreed. "Although we do want to look down this friend angle, and- We've all talked, and we think that either there's a mind-reading demon out there after you, or… Wyatt sent someone back."

Chris looked at her hard when she spoke those words. "Wait- you believe me?" His voice rose, a little incredulously. "I- I think it's the latter," he said. "I took a potion to suppress people trying to read my mind."

"I knew it!" Phoebe said triumphantly, punching the air with her fist. Everyone looked at her, and she flushed sheepishly. "Okay, everybody. Carry on." She gestured with her hands, and buried herself in a glass of Iced Tea.

"So how about, we work on the first few groups on the Map, and you do a little research into whoever you think it is causing this disturbance," Piper said. "And we'll call you if we have any problems."

"Okay, sure-" Chris said.

"That won't exactly be necessary."

All five looked at each other when those words floated into the room, and then, when they realised none of them had spoken the words, they turned around with dread to face the direction the voice had come from.

A dark figure stood there, tall and lanky, completely covered in black except for his eyes, which were dark, like deep pools which fell down into the earth forever.

Piper waved her hands to try and freeze the intruder, but to no avail. She moved back instinctively. "Who the hell are you?"

"Me? I'm from the future." The figure laughed a very deep laugh, and Chris' eyes widened as the figure moved his hand to his head and pulled off the material shrouding him.

He couldn't have been any older than sixteen. The figure had dark brown hair, which fell to his shoulders, and his eyes were all the more piercing when framed by it. He had angular eyebrows, defined cheekbones and a sallow look to his young face.

"It can't be- it can't be-" Chris said, his eyes wide open, a look of supreme fear and loathing on his face. Victor edged a look at Chris and back to the stranger. He picked up on the resemblance in looks even if it wasn't immediately obvious, and his mouth fell open slightly.

The stranger directed a very brief look of hatred towards Chris, who abruptly shut up before he turned to a surprised Piper, directing his gaze directly at her

"My name's Paul. Paul Halliwell." The figure said confidently to a dumbstruck group of people. A smile curved onto his face, but it was filled with danger and a dark sort of amusement.

"Halliwell?" Piper breathed in disbelief, her eyes wide open with shock. She looked down at her bump, and then back at the boy. "Then that means-"

"Yes, Piper," Paul said, his sallow face twisting with a bitter amusement. "I'm your son."