Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about updating.
I am soooo sorry about the wait, but if it'll make you feel any better, take a look at my other short story A Little Rain for some insight into Chris' thoughts before he came to the past. It's little Chris before he was shrunk, which was surprisingly strange to write completely seriously and without a speech impairment. It also has a brief appearance of (E) Wyatt and I may expand on it.
Disclaimer: not mine.
They told him he didn't mean it.
They said it was the grief talking, and if his father were of sound mind, he would never have said that to his son.
But he did. And whether it was grief or anger or self-preservation, it changed something within Chris and not for the better. After that day, nothing was the same.
Laughter was painful and unnatural, smiles were numb and reserved, and every time he would glance even fleetingly in the mirror, there was something sickening about what he seen.
Chris didn't just lose a mother.
He lost his innocence, but more importantly, he could no longer uphold that illusion that he somehow maintained throughout his childhood of his father.
"This is all your fault."
When it boils down to it, it sort of was. Had he been able to heal, had Chris been stronger, it never would have happened. Those demons should never have overpowered not one but two Halliwells. They had to be at a disadvantage somewhere and that hailed from him. Only him.
So Leo was right. In a way.
But that's just the thing. His Leo, his imaginary Leo, would never have uttered that so coldly and so bitterly to his face. Growing up, whenever his father would fail to make an appearance at yet another birthday party, his mom would tell him that his job was very important and that Leo was essentially saving the world. To a child, those words were magical. His Dad was a superhero.
Not like batman or Spiderman. Those were just pretend.
No, this was much, much better. On the days when things were difficult and Chris felt particularly down, that's what he would tell himself. After all, the world was a massive place, filled with so many wonderful people. And as an Elder, his Dad helped them all.
By comparison, his family was small, of so little significance, and they fought for the sake of good themselves. So didn't that mean that a witch should be alright without his father's protection and aid? He could manage just fine on his own.
They'd heard so many stories of how before he and Wyatt were born, Leo would come down from Up There with only one single call of his name and he would heal anyone with the slightest injury without compliant.
That was what Chris aspired to. More than anything in the world, he wanted so badly to heal.
So, naturally, it came as a shock to discover that when he called and called and called as his mother lay dying in his arms and blood seeped into his clothes to the point where they clung to his skin, no matter what, his father - his superhero Dad - didn't come.
And he, a failure, couldn't do a damn thing.
As an isolated incident, it was traumatic - earth-shattering. But this… it ruined him.
All of the excitement and joy in the world somehow didn't feel so astonishing, the stars weren't brilliant, they certainly wouldn't grant any wishes, and the view from the Golden Gate Bridge wasn't so breathtaking after all.
It was reality. Pure and simple.
For the first time, he questioned his father's absence, yearned for his embrace, for him to come and assure him that everything would be alright. Be the pillar of strength he had heard so much about.
Then Leo arrived. Old and haggard, looking as if death itself would be too kind.
He stared straight into his youngest child's eyes, flicked a glance at his wife's crumpled frame, and stated those five clear-cut words that would resound in Chris' head for the rest of his life.
In that instant, he knew. His father wasn't around because he cared too much about the world and all of its difficulties. He wasn't around because he didn't care enough about him.
He seen his childhood then more clearly than he ever had before.
Funny how Wyatt was the only one who he ever found the time to train with. Or how about the fact that Leo never forgot about the Twice-blessed's birthday party? Chris had been too happy to see him to wonder about that.
The day that Piper died was always going to be a defining moment for Chris.
Not only him, but for the entire family. Just look at what it did to Wyatt.
It would shape him, change his perspective of life, and hopefully, eventually, he could learn something or another from it that would fortify him as an individual.
Instead, everything was only bleaker for Chris, and not only was this not temporary, but from that moment on, things were only going to get a whole lot worse.
And standing there, every negative trait on full display, Leo became something else entirely in Chris' eyes.
Just as Chris was Leo's only outlet, he was Chris'.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he had spat venomously, even as he cradled his limp mother tenderly to his chest. "Call an ambulance. We're gonna have to explain this somehow. And Wyatt…"
He became a symbol for everything Chris hated.
"…The news has to be broken gently. I don't think you're up for it…. Phoebe would be a good person to call… She can handle this stuff…"
Including himself.
The hysteria… this particular trigger… It all makes so much sense.
"I'm so sowy, Kis." The words are almost unintelligible through the tears and irregular breathing.
Red-faced and disjointed, he gasps, "I miss hew so much. I miss Mommy…"
No-one really knows what to do. Not Chris, not (G) Wyatt, certainly not (E) Wyatt.
"Chris, it's okay. I'm here," Piper attempts to coax. "Everything is okay."
But little Chris is too far gone.
Crying - bawling, really- he is overwhelmed and irrational, seeing things that aren't in fact there.
"I didn't mean to…" he continues to repeat. "Dewe was nofing I could do…"
Even with the knowledge that he now retains his adult mind, the words coming from the mouth of a child are no less disturbing.
Leo, trying to help, begins to say, "Chris, it's going to be-"
That was probably his first mistake. Whirling around on him, little Chris' eyes flare and he snaps, "What the hell awe you still doing hewe? I towd you to caw da ambuwance!"
"I-I…" He's clearly stricken, struggling for words.
"God, can you do anyfing wight?" Little Chris clutches small fistfuls of his hair, and tugs in frustration, pressing his hands angrily into his temples. "She is dead, Weo!" Everyone flinches at the tone. "We need to sowt 'dis out with the authowities. Dewe gonna be all ovew us." The anguish in his young expression is so raw that Piper feels the tears well in her eyes. Her death. He's talking about her death.
"And Wy Wy…H-he's…Oh god…" In the back of their minds, everyone is guilty worrying if perhaps this time their neurotic white-lighter has really snapped. "How awe you stiw standing dewe? Do somefing."
The two Wyatt's exchange fearful glances.
"I-I-" He hiccups, a dazed look in his eyes.
"Chris?" Piper says tentatively. "Shouldn't we do something?"
He shakes his head. "This has happened before," he answers coolly. "Maybe not as intense as this. But it should pass soon."
She's not convinced. "Are you sure?"
"I'm fairly positive."
"…Couldn't save hew…" little Chris is murmuring, but there seems to be a slight awareness in his features as his breaths slow. "No, it awight. I'w be okay…"
Piper has to wonder, who is he speaking to now? Definitely not Leo, anyway.
This time when he flinches and shifts away, little Chris appears to be avoiding something. "I'm not bweeding." He swats at something. A prying hand, maybe? "It's not my bwood! See?"
Sniffling, he adds, "You'we sewiouswy wowying about me at a time wike 'dis? You'we an idiot."
The voice in his mind must've said something controversial, because little Chris frowns even while his mouth inches upwards ever so slightly, hardly noticeable unless you were paying extremely close attention.
Then, with a yawn, the illusion finishes with a soft, "Fanks, Wy Wy. Wove you, too."
Perhaps mirroring little Chris' beliefs, (E) Wyatt gathers him up in his arms, and pushes his hair from his tired eyes - half-closing as he holds him closer.
It's a sweet moment. Marred by the truth, certainly.
But sweet nonetheless.
As much as they bicker and argue and ridicule each other, (E) Wyatt and little Chris share a very deep, very close bond that even Piper, as much as she loves her sisters, finds difficult to fathom.
And while much of what (E) Wyatt has done can be construed as unforgivable, Piper truly believes that, despite the contradictories, little Chris has not an ounce of blame in his heart.
Thank-you for reading.