"No wonder Chris grows up to be such a neurotic little freak."


Neurotic


Disclaimer: Charmed does not belong to me.

Summary: His name is not Chris Perry. It's Christopher. Christopher Halliwell.


Chapter the Thirty-fourth

"Pain"


Life really had great timing.

No, really.

Life always knows exactly when and where to smack you when you're down.

Piper Halliwell was miserable. Utterly miserable.

The pounding rain did nothing to relieve the constant ache in her back, the beleaguering ache and cramp in her stomach seemed to increase with each second, she'd somehow caught a cold even though Chris was the one who had come back soaking wet, her sisters were still missing, her sons were psychotic or neurotic or acting really strange, and then this one thing happened to top it all off.

"You know, you organised this place a lot better when you opened it."

Piper opened her mouth to argue, and sloppily shut it. A thousand arguments flittered through her head, and she ached to voice them, but was unable to deal with the shit she would get back from this pig ignorant woman standing in front of her, tapping a clipboard impatiently.

She tried to smile her best fake smile at the woman from the insurance company, but it was probably too tight to be considered genuine, so she kept silent and nodded noncommittally.

"But be that as it may, it can't be denied that profits are up, and the bands you have booked are increasingly higher in profile… I have to admit your books aren't quite so formidably correct as they used to be, but nonetheless, the results are remarkably impressive."

Remarkably impressive. Piper's mouth worked silently, as she resisted the urge to blast the hell out of the woman. Remarkably? You try trying to stop your magically psychotic firstborn from being turned evil and levelling the world into hell's playground. And then try doing it alone, and pregnant, and with a cold! She sneezed violently, getting vindictive pleasure from getting spittle on the business lady.

The insurance woman wrinkled her nose a little, and Piper managed to smile cheerily at her.

"I'm taking each day as it comes," Piper said, tilting her chin. "No one can have a good day every day, but I have the bigger picture in mind. Small fluctuations won't prevent me from doing a good job. All I require is a little faith."

The woman sniffed. "Indeed. I'll be contacting you later in the week."

Without as much as saying a polite goodbye, the sternly dressed woman turned on her heel and clattered away up the stairs, leaving Piper alone in the dark. She couldn't seem to control her breathing, and her nose was blocked, and she sank gratefully against the counter.

She'd had no idea that her life would degenerate to this. Everyone had promised they'd be there for her, and now… there was no one.

She was aware that she was feeling pathetically sorry for herself, but as she blew into her very last tissue and left it wrinkled on the counter top, she didn't care. She turned to get to the phone and dial a taxi to take her home, when she saw Chris watching her from the shadows.

"How long have you been there?" She asked, surprised. Her eyes watered, and she wiped them with the back of her hand, her nose aching. Actually, it came out more how dong haf you been der? but Chris understood.

"Just a little while," Chris said softly. He stepped forwards and gingerly offered her a box of balsam tissues.

"My hero," Piper sniffed, pulling out a tissue and burying her face in it. "It's just- That was the worst financial meeting ever."

"I have faith in you." Chris looked almost startled at his own words, and Piper sniffled up at him, a rush of warmth sliding over her, his trust giving her strength. He put one hand gently on her shoulder and smiled down at her, and it was suddenly too much for Piper. She collapsed forwards against him, sobbing into his shoulder and wishing she could blame it on the cold.

"I don't deserve it," she said, muffled into his sweater.

"You deserve it more than anyone I know."

"I don't deserve you."

Chris' breathing hitched, and she pulled back to see him looking confusedly at her. She hated the fact that a simple compliment – a simple truth – winded him this much. Did I not tell him how much I appreciated him during his childhood? His eyes widened as if he realised what she was thinking. "I'm sorry I was so surprised," he said, his words a little rushed. "It's been a long time since-"

"-anyone complimented you?" Piper questioned, and then sneezed violently all over Chris.

Chris just blinked, and absently said, "Bless you."

"You are a regular Mr. Manners," Piper said, sniffling a little. He pushed another tissue into her hands and she took it gratefully.

She looked up to see him eyeballing her cautiously, as if he was analysing her. She didn't like the sudden scrutiny. A thousand expressions fragmented over his face, each a part of a different memory, and then his face steeled, as if he'd decided on something.

"Come with me," Chris said softly, pulling at her hands. Surprised, she let him lead her over to one of the comfortable sofas in one of the alcoves. She sat down, facing him, eyes wide as she wondered what he was going to do.

"Just sit still," he instructed, "and whatever you do, don't pull away from my hand."

She looked at him; confusion plastered on her face as he looked down, swallowed, and then looked up at her. He put his hand on her cheek, spreading his fingers, and she watched, startled, as his eyes fluttered shut, and she was just about to ask him what he was doing when she was suddenly very, very dizzy.

She felt like crying out, but she couldn't, and blackness swept over her vision before crackling into life again, and when she opened her eyes she was… somewhere else… and she playing… playing a piano?

All she could see were the keys, and hands moving over them, but they weren't her hands. They were paler than hers, and the nails were unkempt as if they'd been bitten and chewed off. The skin was quite raggedy around the nails, too, but the hands were… The hands were really quite beautiful. They were angular, and were gracefully skittering over the keys, and she felt almost as if they were her own.

It was then that she heard the music, and it was like someone breathing, raising and falling in a glorious melody before dropping down into a warm little rush of chromatic scales, and swelling into the most anguished melody she'd ever heard. She wanted to cry, die in it, swell in it and gloriously exalt within it… She could feel the pain of the player with such clarity that her heart broke and the melody mended it, a little.

"Chris?"

Piper started at the sound of his name, and her vision twisted, and she suddenly realised she was in the sitting room. The voice sounded like hers… That's when she realised what Chris had done. He was giving her one of his memories. She was where Chris would have been when this event occurred.

The doorway was empty.

"Chris, can you turn that radio down?"

Piper stared as an older version of herself walked into the frame of the doorway, not as old as Pippa but definitely older than she was now. This older version of herself stopped short in amazement.

"You're not… That's you playing!"

The music stopped. "Y-yeah."

Piper was struck by the deep hesitancy in Chris' voice. It squeaked a little. Piper placed this Chris somewhere in the region of puberty. She wished he would walk by a mirror so she could catch a glimpse of him while he was growing up.

"That's amazing…" Older Piper looked amazed, stricken, and awed all at the same time. "I never knew…"

"I haven't played in front of you before, why would you know?"

"Oh, honey..." Piper felt a bit weird as it appeared that the older Piper was walking towards her. The sensation of herself giving herself a hug was more than a little weird. "Why would you hide something like this?"

"I haven't hidden it." Chris' voice was downcast, and his gaze moved too, for Piper got a sudden glimpse of the thighs she would have in the future, and was a little impressed that she hadn't instantly got elephant thighs when she was older like Prue had always joked she would.

"You just haven't shown us, either." Older Piper sounded amused. "When did you get so good at this half-truth business?"

"Wyatt. Wyatt's real good at it."

Older Piper looked a little regretful. "You're still going on with this Wyatt business, aren't you. Your older brother is good, when will you get this?"

"I'm not crazy. I've seen too many things to explain it away"

"Sometimes our eyes can play tricks on us, Chris. Just give your brother some faith."

"I-" Chris' voice sounded absolutely broken. "I can't. I don't want to disappoint you, mom, but I can't…"

"Then give me some faith. I trust your brother."

"Give you some- Mom, I've always had faith in you. No matter what. I always will. I love you. It's sort of unconditional that way."

Older Piper smiled breathtakingly, but it was tinged with an open sadness. "I know you do, honey. Play for me a bit more, will you?"

Chris' reply was a little resentful. "I thought you wanted me to keep the music down."

"That's because I didn't realise it was you." Older Piper smiled at him. She reached over and fluffed his hair. "I'll just be in the kitchen."

"Okay."

Older Piper got up, smiled at him, and walked away. Piper's gaze returned to the keyboard, and younger Chris hesitantly played a few phrases and then faltered. Then he quickly got to his feet and moved over to a CD player on the bookcase. The hand reached forward again, and hit play. It was a recording as the same melancholic piece.

Younger Chris moved swiftly around the corner to stand by the kitchen door, out of sight. Older Piper was on the phone. Piper could hear her words clearly.

"Dr. Macmillan? Yes, Chris is still saying he's seeing things. And he's been hiding things from us too, just like you said he would. I'd like to do what you said. Do you have a residence space at the ward? You do? Fantastic"

And then, suddenly, Chris' face was in front of hers again.

She blinked, and realised the vision he'd given her had ended. Chris was looking at her as if she might break.

"That was my last full day at home," Chris said quietly, his words a little deeper than normal. "I was booked into the hospital, and they put me into an asylum, and the very first day I was out, Wyatt apparently got his first 'premonition'. You didn't want me to come out with you as you were scared I was too fragile, but we went anyway. It was to somewhere in Japan, underground, and that day was when he killed Paul and took you out of my life."

He spoke matter-of-factly.

Piper breathed hard. "Why-"

"Because I've always trusted you. Always. You needed to see that. I didn't think I was going crazy, but I was willing to believe it for you." He was smiling though, which confused Piper.

"Why aren't you mad at me?" Piper breathed, feeling even more miserable. Her anger at the stuck-up woman who had all but called her incompetent had vanished under the anguishing pain she felt now. How could he be so calm when I was so horrible to him? "I-"

"You did what you thought you had to to protect me," Chris said. "Don't worry, it took me a long time to accept that." He smiled briefly. "I just needed you to know how much faith I do have in you. I always have." He looked a little reluctant for a moment, and chewed his lower lip. "Perhaps it wasn't the best example…"

"No, no," Piper said quickly. "It was perfect." She pursed her lips a little. "Would you play me something when we get home?" Her lips quirked. "I promise not to have you committed if you do."

"I would be honoured," Chris informed her, his green eyes sparkling with a restrained mirth.

"Hey."

Piper blinked, startled out of the moment by the third voice intruding on them. Irrationally she felt frustrated, and felt even worse when it was Paul that had interrupted them. He held a small vial in his hand.

"You got a jar of the balm?" Chris was instantly brisk and businesslike, and he got to his feet, taking the vial from Paul and looking at it. "Excellent."

"No, it's not." Paul's voice wavered.

"It's not the balm?" Confusion sprayed on his face, Chris looked down at him. "Wha-"

"No, no, it's not that. Yenene just gave it to me," Paul said, impatiently. "I was all pissed that I was taking time from saving Paige, all ready to snap, and she just mutely handed it over without payment."

"So maybe it's not the balm," Piper calmly suggested, getting to her feet. Chris instantly moved to her side, and she threw a "I'm not incapable" look at him, which he promptly ignored and took her arm in his.

"Oh, it's the balm," Paul said, worried. "Apparently Wyatt told her to let us have it."

"Well, it makes sense," Chris said, a little perturbed. "Wyatt would want his younger self protected."

"No, no, that's not it." Paul waved his hand impatiently. "It's something else that happened. The black market was all abuzz. Apparently Wyatt caught a Charmed One snooping around."

Chris opened his mouth to reply, and then snapped it shut, disturbed. "But Piper didn't-"

Paul looked at Chris as if he were incredibly stupid. "It was Phoebe," Paul said, unsteadily. "You know well enough what I mean by that."

The two exchanged a horrified silence.

"What?" Piper looked between them, her heart pounding, her cold almost forgotten in this new development. "What does that mean?"

"It means Phoebe was on this plane all along," Chris said miserably. "Do you remember anything from high school physics?"

"Not much," Piper admitted, confused. "What's physics got to do with-"

"With magic? A lot, actually." Chris looked amused. Piper had seen the expression before on him, and it was one that she'd seen him use when he was amused he knew more than her. "Uh, anyway, every solid is made mostly up of space-"

"-between the particles, yes, I knew that," Piper said, her eyes flittering over his drawn and suddenly tired face. "You mean Phoebe's… somehow… in that space?"

"Yes," Chris said. His words were slow and measured, and the meaning of his words weighed heavily on the air. "In a very rough way, that's exactly what I mean."


T-19