Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed, or any of its characters… I just wish I did.
Author's Note: Isn't it nice when author's update before they think they will? It's short, but this demanded to be written out before I could get back to studying. Who am I to argue? I'm sure you all don't mind an early posting of the next part here.
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It was nearly another hour before a nurse came to the ICU waiting room to tell the family that Chris had been settled into his new room and that only two people could go in for just a few minutes to see him tonight. She reminded them that visiting hours were technically over, but that they could spend more time tomorrow.
Leo ran his hands through his hair and over his weary face as he offered his hand to his wife to help her to her feet. It was almost midnight, but Piper's sisters and their respective husbands hadn't left. Melinda had woken up and had proceeded to flip through the waiting room's magazines without actually reading any of them. Wyatt had continued wearing holes in the hospital floor and he looked crestfallen at the fact that only two could go back to see Chris.
Leo looked at his oldest son and opened his mouth to offer that Wyatt go in his place, but Wyatt stopped him. "No, Dad, you go… I… I can wait," he said quietly, sinking into a seat for the first time in hours and looking up at his parents with a forlorn face. "Just tell him to get better… and that I'm sorry, and I'll see him tomorrow…" Wyatt paused for a second, forcing a smile onto his haggard face, "…tell him I'm pissed at him for getting hurt and that I know he just did this because he didn't want to see me crowned Homecoming King…" Wyatt managed the words with a shadow of humor, but his wavering voice gave him away to Leo that it was just a front of trying to be strong.
Smiling gently, he walked over to Wyatt and pulled his son into a hug. Wyatt returned it with a weak effort and lowered his eyes as Leo and Piper followed the nurse out of the room. The Whitelighter-turned-Mortal could hear Phoebe trying to talk to Wyatt as he and his wife left the room. He agreed with his sister-in-law. He knew that had to be hard for Wyatt to give up the opportunity to see Chris.
The two were next to inseparable. Leo was appreciative that the two brothers were so close, but he didn't know how he could have ever had any doubts about it. Then again, in the alternate future that the twenty-two year old Chris had returned from, Wyatt had been evil. That had always been something in the back of Leo's mind as much as he would have hated to admit it. But Wyatt didn't have an evil bone in his body. Wyatt was mischievous, maybe, but he had grown up into a mature and kind-hearted young man who cared about his family. The first Chris had accomplished what he had come back to do and the heavy concern Leo's oldest son was experiencing now was proof of that.
Thoughts of the other Chris still stung Leo, and every day he noticed mannerisms in his youngest son that he had seen so many years ago in his adult-self. They always brought back bittersweet memories. He had tried so hard to make up for his behavior in that alternate future, but every day he lived with the guilt of not having been able to save his son and send him safely back to his changed future.
The nurse pressed a button on the wall and the pair of doors with Intensive Care Unit emblazoned on them opened automatically for the three of them to walk through. Piper's eyes were red-rimmed and puffy and she held onto Leo's hand as if to a lifeline. Leo wanted to be supportive of his wife, but he needed her just as much.
The nurse stopped, gesturing to a room that had 'Halliwell, Christopher P.' written in neat handwriting on a slip of paper outside the door. "I'll give you five minutes, but then I'm going to have to ask you to leave for the night."
Piper looked like she wanted to argue, but Leo rested a hand on her arm and shook his head. They would be grateful for what they could get. Hospital policy was being bent for them as it was. Leo steeled himself to what was waiting inside the room, took a breath and stepped inside.
He had seen lots of horrible things as a doctor during World War Two, but nothing could ever prepare anyone for seeing their own child in the Intensive Care Unit. Leo closed his eyes, blinking back the tears that welled up and walked into the room once he collected himself. He pulled a chair to their son's bedside for Piper to sit in.
A bandage wound around Chris's head, the cervical collar remaining on his neck as a precaution, and a tube down Chris's throat was attached to a ventilator keeping his breathing slow and regular. The boy's left leg was in a cast and suspended above him to keep it elevated. Piper sank heavily into the chair and gently took her son's left hand into her own, careful of the IV tubes attached to it, providing fluids and probably sedatives as well. The soft steady 'beep' of the heart rate monitor drew Leo's eyes to it and he watched the line of Chris's pulse pass along the screen.
He took hold of the back of Piper's chair to keep himself standing and looked at Chris's face. If not for the surroundings, the bandage, and the tubes and monitors attached to him, his little boy could be sleeping. He looked so small and frail lying there and Leo felt his jaw tighten and the tears threaten again. Seeing him lying there like that brought back those painful memories of watching his adult son die in his arms all over again and he shuddered.
"Hey baby," Piper whispered gently, rubbing Chris's hand between hers, "…Leo, pull the blanket up on him… he's cold."
How she could know whether or not he was cold, Leo didn't know, but he didn't argue with her. Taking the blanket to gently pull up over Chris's inert form. He paused to rest a hand on the side of his son's face before he returned to stand behind Piper with his hands resting on her shoulders.
"We were so worried," Piper said talking quietly to Chris. Leo heard her voice break and looked at his wife's face to see her tearing up again, "…but you're going to be okay. You're going to bounce right back from this. We need you to bounce back from this… and… and Wyatt said that he's sorry he couldn't come back too… he's so worried about you peanut… we all are and we just want you to get better okay…?"
Leo wanted to say something, but he couldn't find his voice to form any words at all. Piper reached a hand back to rest upon one of his that he had on her shoulders as they watched the mechanically rhythmic rise and fall of Chris's chest.
"M'am, Sir?" the nurse's voice said gently from the door. Their five minutes was up and the nurse was waiting to escort them back out of the ICU. Piper stood up slowly and leaned over Chris, kissing his cheek gently and running her hand over his face.
"We'll be back to see you in the morning, angel," she whispered, her voice breaking. Leo leaned down to kiss his son's forehead, something Chris never would have stood for had he been conscious to avoid the display of affection from his father. He adjusted the blanket over his son one last time, and then followed Piper out. "Sweet dreams, peanut," Piper said, "We love you."
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"Mom?" Chris slowly opened his eyes and blinked in confusion. He'd expected to wake up in as much pain as he had when he'd been in the ambulance. Actually, he'd expected to wake up either in the ambulance or in the hospital with his family standing worriedly around him… not… wherever he was now. The dark-haired teen's green eyes narrowed as he frowned and slowly propped himself up on one elbow. He had no idea where "here" was, or how he had gotten there. For a heartbeat he felt a flash of panic that he might be dead, but there was no Angel of Death standing by him. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or afraid. There wasn't anyone around at all.
There was only the large willow tree that he had woken up under and a lush, elegant garden like none he had ever been to before. A strange, soft light permeated everything in an unearthly glow. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Carefully, Chris gathered himself up to a full sitting position and moistened his lips as he surveyed his surroundings. He was sitting on a low hill, with a vantage point over the flowers tall trees and stone pathways spreading out Chris couldn't see anyone else in the walled garden.
"Hello?" Chris called out softly. Although he didn't see anyone around him, there was this strange feeling of eyes everywhere watching him. He didn't like the feeling at all. He should be at the hospital and he knew he should be. Maybe it was a dream. Did you dream when you were unconscious? He wasn't going to learn anything just sitting here. Chris climbed to his feet and looked down at his clothes and gained yet another shock.
One moment he was wearing his football uniform, the next his clothing melted and shifted to jeans and a t-shirt over a white long sleeved shirt, the next moment his shirt changed again to a baggy sweatshirt, then to a polo shirt that his mother had forced him to wear for a family photograph… Chris swallowed hard and took his eyes away from his shifting clothing because it made him nauseous. What the hell is going on? he wondered, walking down the hill towards the winding path. "Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought," he whispered.
He couldn't see anything beyond the garden for the tall trees and the ivy covered stone walls. If he was dreaming, this was one hell of a strange dream. "Hello? Anyone there?" Chris called again. He knew his clothes had shifted again, back to the football uniform, complete with helmet this time. Chris frowned in annoyance and pulled the helmet off of his head and tossed it aside, it vanished before it hit the ground. Chris froze in place staring at the spot that it should have hit.
Dreaming, Chris thought, I'm dreaming. He pinched his arm hard, "OW!" Wincing, Chris rubbed the spot that he'd just pinched, frowning at the red mark that it had left. "Okay… not supposed to hurt in dreams…"
"…Wyatt?" he called out with growing trepidation, "Mom? Dad? Aunt Paige? Phoebe? Hello?" Insecurities whisked through Chris's mind and he caught his lower lip between his teeth in an identical expression to the one that he had no idea Wyatt had been using all evening. He gave a shake of his head and whispered harshly at himself, "Pull your self together Chris. Whatever is going on, you'll figure it out…" With that said, he started down one of the winding garden paths through the trees.
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