A/N: This short little piece is an attempt to get into Christopher's head following his reaction to seeing Kim and Eddie. I think in 7x10, we see aspects of both Eddie and Shannon in Christopher, perhaps more so than any other episode. Anyway – this is the head of an adolescent boy whose assessment of events may not necessarily be… fair.
Shattered Rose Lenses
Christopher's last unit in Language Arts before the end of school had been about idioms. They'd talked about many over the last couple weeks of class. The straw that broke the camel's back. That particular one had been rolling around in his head ever since Marisol left. Here he was, that stupid broken camel. His teacher would have been proud that he drew a real-life parallel.
He hated Los Angeles.
Los Angeles had brought him nothing but fear, pain, and uncertainty.
Mom died here.
Dad almost died, more than once here.
Buck almost died also more than once.
He almost died.
Dad had nearly lost his mind because of this city.
Seeing the ghost of his dead mother embracing his father ripped open every scab he'd grown. It was overwhelming. He couldn't listen to his father. Or whatever her name had been. Nothing they had to say mattered anyway in the face of fresh grief.
Los Angeles sucked. El Paso had been quieter. Safer. Everything had been better in Texas. After Dad finally stopped knocking at his door and gone to bed he made the phone call. He asked his grandparents to bring him home. He knew it would hurt Dad. And he wanted it to. It could never hurt as much as the betrayal of bringing that woman into their home. How could Dad have been so selfish?
Sleep was a long time coming. When it finally came the dreams of drowning resurfaced for the first time in ages.
He'd been awake, wiping away silent tears of fear and anger when Dad resumed knocking at the door in the morning. He heard the doorbell and knew it was Buck. He knew Buck would be at his door next, talking to him on behalf of his dad. And that just made him angrier. Because it had happened too many times now. Dad would screw up, and Buck would somehow smooth things over. Buck always seemed to clean up Dad's messes. Just another way his dad was selfish.
The doorbell rang again. Hearing the muffled voices of his grandparents roused him from the bed. Relief rose in his heart and he grabbed his backpack to start packing. They were in the kitchen; he could hear the tone of his dad's voice. He didn't sound sorry, he sounded caught.
And then Buck's voice.
Something about Captain Nash and the hospital.
He hated Los Angeles.
And just like that, Dad and Buck were gone. The anger flared hotter. Dad couldn't even stay and fight to keep him home. He flung open the door to his bedroom and slammed the door to the bathroom. It had been a long night, he had to pee.
His grandmother offered to make him something to eat when he came to the kitchen, but he wasn't hungry. He didn't want to talk about last night. He just wanted to leave. The fresh image of his mother standing in the living room kept appearing in spite of his best efforts. And now, Mom's memory was tainted. Because of her.
While they packed, his grandparents asked if he was sure he wanted to do this. And again later. If they asked one more time he might explode. They refused to leave until Dad got back. Said Dad deserved to see him off and say goodbye. At least they didn't try to apologize for Dad. Christopher didn't see why it mattered if they waited. It wasn't as if he was Dad's highest priority these days.
Sure, Dad said he loved him. But actions said otherwise.
How many times had he been dumped at Marisol or Buck's lately? How many times did Dad make life changing decisions without even talking to him first? And Dad thought he was being unreasonable?
No, he was making the right decision. Los Angeles sucked and life had been terrible since they moved here.
He missed Mom more than he had in a long time.
And it was all Dad's fault.
He couldn't stand to look at Dad. Looking at him meant seeing her.
And that wound kept reopening.
Later that night as he stared out the plane window to the dark desert below, he thought about Buck's words. Buck seemed to think that whatever that woman's name was, had been a mistake. Christopher wasn't sure he believed that. No, Dad had been selfish. He'd done it on purpose. How could Dad bring Mom home, only to snatch her away again?
He resolved to be happy in El Paso.
"…in five minutes or five months… you call, and I'll come bring you home…"
He didn't want his dad to bring him back to Los Angeles, because all the worst things in his life had happened there. But maybe, if Christopher made himself happy enough in Texas, Dad would move back. Dad might find it in himself to love his son enough to give up his cursed life filled with death and ghosts in LA.
Christopher felt his resolve harden. He glanced over to his grandparents, catching his grandmother's loving eye and she smiled. Yes. He was going to be happy.
A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Feedback is appreciated but not obligatory.