Title: Sunshine Rain
Author: frickangel
Summary: She watched silently as the boy slept on, oblivious to her presence. He watched silently as she busied herself in the kitchen, oblivious to his presence. MotherSon ship. Part one of the 'Angel in my Arms' series.
A/N: After watching the finale I suddenly felt like re-watching all of Season6, naturally because of Chris. Still, went through all 20 over episodes and realised how little they did to build on the Piper-Chris mother/son relationship. They gave it a couple of episodes then went into season finale mode. So, thought of a story and then so many others popped up and now I have an 'Angel in my Arms' series going on. This is the first of the many and I hope I don't get pelted with tomatoes for it.
Somewhere around Season Six, 'Spin City' and 'Hyde School Reunion'.
Totally Un-beta'd.
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own and don't I wish.
Chapter 1

"'Because she doesn't exist in my future. Okay? She dies when I turn fourteen...
The point is, after I save Wyatt, I have to go back to where she isn't. I can't get close to her because I don't want to lose her again.'
'Maybe that's all the more reason to get close to her.'"
- Hyde School Reunion

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It rains one minute and suddenly the sunrays break through the clouds the next. Not that it was ever surprising because after all, that's what San Francisco weather was like.

Untangling herself from the web of bed sheets, Piper Halliwell softly settled her swollen feet on the wooden floor and sighed. Thanks to the downpour that showered earlier on and the cool breeze had cast drowsiness on her, and in that moment of boredom, Piper had decided to take a nap. Unfortunately, the sun had other ideas as its rays streamed through the windows and interrupted her doze.

Sitting silently on the bed, she swore under her breath that the rain was still pouring down even though the sun was shinning brightly like an episode of Sesame Street. Snorting, Piper realised just how much she had turned into a mother when all the reference she could think of was a children's educational series. The memories of her past came revisiting as she remembered Grams used to call this 'Sunshine Rain' while they were younger. When it was a "sad" rain, as gramps used to say, then the skies were dark and cloudy, but the "happy" rain happened when the sun peeks from the clouds and pushes the greyness away.

The chuckles began to erupt from Piper's throat as she thought of how Gramps used to tell silly stories like those. Maybe one day—Piper thought—she could tell them to her own sons as well.

'If my oldest doesn't turn into a power hungry monster that is.'

She shook her head to dispel any negative thoughts lingering in her mind. It was bad enough that her youngest, in his 22-year old future self, was physically with them and telling how Wyatt will turn things for the worse.

Pulling her self up from the bed, Piper managed to waddle around the furniture in an attempt to reach her room's exit. Being six months pregnant with a future-neurotic baby doesn't make life any easier. Even the morning sickness with him was worse than it was with Wyatt. Taking a moment's pause at the door frame, Piper stood still and waited for the nausea to hit her and wreak havoc in the pit of her stomach.

When nothing seemed to feel like regurgitating, she took it as a sign that it was safe to resume her walk downstairs. Smiling at her good luck, Piper made quiet steps down the stairs and wondered about the unnerving calm in the house. There wasn't any sound of voices from the other rooms, no traces of Paige or Phoebe.

"Phoebe?" she called out and peeked into the living room noting the bareness of the place. Taking the last step down, she surveyed the main hall and listened for some sign of life. "Paige?" she tried another time but to no avail, receiving only static stillness in return. Treading slowly to the centre of the room to where a lone post-it note was stuck to a vase in all its bright pink glory.

Phoebe.

Only Phoebe owned pink post-its in this house and true enough, she found her sister's cursive scrawled across the note as she read it,

'Gone to the office.
Paige has Wyatt at P3.
Neurotic nephew at home.
Yell if anything.

-Pheebs'

A wide grin spread across her face as she noted the word 'neurotic' and instantly realised who it was. Piper was about to rip the message from its public showing when she mused on the thought of letting him read this. It would give her some entertainment of watching both aunt and nephew duke it out a bit. Letting in the guilty pleasure, the oldest of the Halliwell sisters left the note well alone and began her hunt for the neurotic.

Hands placed firmly to her back for support, Piper braved another ascend to the manor's attic. If there was one place to look for him, it would be there, huddled over the Book and giving little bothersome comments on how and what else should be added. Piper took a mental note to teach him diplomacy when he was old enough.

"Chris?" she called out and eyed the organised clutter the attic was in. Entering into the room, Piper picked up a few empty potion bottles by the cauldron and found the place to be empty. The candles were cold and the wax solid; no sign of it being recently lit. Sniffing the air, she wrinkled her nose at the musky odour of herbs and old brews but there was nothing new or fresh. Returning the bottles, she made her way to the Book's stand and patted the empty slot, realising it wasn't there.

If the Book wasn't there, it means he wasn't there. Despite telling herself that, Piper found her alarm bells going off with scenarios that the Book had been kidnapped—if you can refer to an object being kidnapped—or worse, both the Book and Chris were taken. Eyebrows furrowing into a knot, Piper breathed in slowly, trying to rationalise that Chris was a full grown witch and half angel, knowing very well how to take care of himself.

'But that didn't stop Bianca, did it?'

Mentally kicking herself for even allowing the negativity in again, Piper marched out and did another round of descending to the hall. "Chris?" she tried once more, hoping for a sort of response or any kind. Even an explosion or cluttering noise would be a welcome. She stopped at the row of rooms and searched for sign of a six-footer emerging from the rooms. Getting none, Piper continued on the warpath to find her son.

Returning to the main hall, she glanced down the corridor and satisfied that no one could be hiding in such constrain space, Piper tracked off to the dining hall and again stumbled on nothing. Trying to calm herself with those damned breathing exercises, building up another louder summoning, "Chr–"

Her hands flew to her mouth to silence her call and allowed it to die midway from her throat. Taking in the slow relief, Piper gently padded across the hall and into the conservatory as she saw her youngest lying still in one of the wicker chairs. The two-seater was obviously a tight fit for the boy but he made do with what he had. After all when sleep beckoned, one would do what was needed to sleep comfortably.

As quietly as she could, Piper approached the slumbering son, trying hard not to wake him. She chuckled inwardly at the sight of Chris; his long legs hanging limply over one of the seat's armchairs, while his body curled up to fit into the small space and his head leaning against the edge of the opposite end. Her heart warmed to see him resting so peacefully and she wondered if she would one day in the future, walk down the stairs of the manor as she had, and find her baby boy sleeping like this. Would it be a day that he would have no worries of an evil brother, a dead family and bearing the weight of saving the future?

Piper sighed and chewed on her lower lip, and slid into the adjacent chair by him. The pangs of guilt assaulted her as she watched her youngest angel breathing slowly. If she had known from the moment she saw him, she would've treated him differently. If she had known where he had come from, what he had face; had endured and seen. If she had known who he was, why he had dropped out of the blue as he did, just maybe, she wouldn't told him to get out and stay out.

No, she hadn't told him to just stay out; she had told she never wanted to see him anymore. It hadn't sink in then, but now, if her mother had told her that exact same thing, she would've been crushed beyond repair. She recalled seeing those green eyes stare back at her with hurt so deep and it was evident now why it was so.

Sighing yet again, Piper raised her hand to gingerly push strays of brown hair from his face. He stirred slightly and she snatched her hand back as fast as she could, not wishing for him to wake. Letting out the breath she didn't know she had held, Piper relaxed as he fell right back to his dreams.

And then the questions hit her like a million bricks.

Did he have friends? Had she remembered to celebrate her sons' birthdays? Was he doing well in school? Heck, was he even in school? Was he happy? What were his hobbies, his dreams, his hopes, his ambitions? Had he wanted to become a doctor, a lawyer or a big shot star? Was he ever hurt or sad?

Was she there for him?

Tears became to form behind her eyes at the sudden overwhelming insecurities. How could she be so insensitive to him before? Here he was, only 22 and already trying to change the only future his ever known and travelling back in time. He should be home, in college and enjoying the freedom of life, even if it meant a demon or two from his witch's side. She should be with him, being a mother and baking, reprimanding him about a messy room or breaking curfews and not breaking the temporal laws.

Falling deeper into the chair, Piper could only think of all the possibilities of the future. Her eyes closed as she tried to calm herself, knowing that overreacting to thing was not an answer, she couldn't let him wake up and find her in such an emotional state. But then again she could blame all this on being hormonal and pregnant. Who was there to stop her from doing so?

Eyes opened again, she found herself taking in the sights that surrounded her son as he dozed. The Book of Shadows laid opened on the small coffee table, partly buried under parchments, aged scrolls with all sorts of symbols she couldn't even begin to recognise, then there were maps and charts, and other little bits of notes. More of those were lying under the table and some were even clutched in his hands. Reaching over, Piper brushed aside the clutter and found the Book opened to a page filled with information on a demon. Not like it was a surprise, but just on top of it was a tiny notebook, scrawled with Chris' handwriting; names of demons—some she knew but others were foreign to her—where half of these names had been cancelled out with neat lines slashed across. Daring to poke at her son's work, Piper flipped over to another page and found it riddled with the same strange symbols.

Replacing the pad, Piper wondered at the world he really was from. Just how did he know about all these when she, and her sisters, had barely known any of this existed before? He understands so much about soothsayers and magic, stars, astrology, fortune tellers.

The warmth that had filled her heart was now aching with the pain of a mother's failure.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, Piper made a promise to herself and to her sons that she will fight to the very end for a different kind of future. A better kind. Wiping the single tear that trickled down her face, Piper knew she couldn't fail this time or ever.

Looking out the window, she saw as the sunshine rain continued to beat down from the skies. She followed the sunrays that filtered through the stained glass and lit her son's angelic face, bringing back the warmth that had fled her before. If only she could preserve this moment forever.

But of course she could.

Slapping her thighs, Piper brought herself to stand and rushed over to the hall, ransacking through the drawers. She knew it was in there somewhere and it probably was drowning under a whole load of trash and unwanted mess. Her fingers combed into layers of papers, stationeries, envelopes, letters, and boxes.

And then she found it.

Smiling triumphantly, she brought up the camera and prayed for the batteries to work. When she discovered it did, she fingered the switch bringing the digital thingamajig to life and the screen lit up with an image of the hall. Not wanting to gamble on the batteries' life span, she grabbed the object and focused on her son sleeping. With a simple press of her finger, she had immortalised his presence forever. Feeling pleased with herself, Piper fell back into the chair and hugged the camera as if it held the most precious gemstone in the world.

To her it did.

A grin crept slowly across her face as she waddled back to a drawer, placing the valuable gadget into a drawer. All the while through the task, Piper had stared ceaselessly at the beloved image over and over again. Only when she had set to rest the camera did she part with the photo. Returning to her son, she stared at him for a while and said a small blessing for him. Risking his awakening, Piper bent down and caressed his cheek with light fingers before planting a small kiss to his forehead.

"I love you," She whispered into his ear, "And I'm sorry for everything, but I promise you this…" Piper licked her lips and watched as the rain trailed down the windows, casting different shades of colours like a rainbow, "I promise you this," she continued. "I will not let anything happen to you again. You're going to have a normal life as much as I can give it to you." Her voice strained under the wave of emotions that submerged her, another tear threatened to appear. "I love you," she repeated, hesitating before placing another gentle kiss on his head.

Straightening herself, Piper breathed in the wet afternoon and believed that even if Chris was brought up with darkness surrounding him, she could at least bring a little light while he's around. She chuckled as she realised it was a lot like the sunshine rain Grams said. Chris may have had rainy skies, but in this timeline, she was going to be the sunshine, no matter how small.

Piper lifted the light blanket that they had in the room and sheltered Chris from the slight chill that was forming. She brought it up to his chin and ruffled his hair a little, feeling the soft brown strands between her fingers.

Stretching her aching back, Piper realised what this house needed right then: the aroma of freshly baked cookies. Shuffling out of the conservatory and into the nearby kitchen, she wondered if she still had anymore raisins.

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TBC…

Thanks for reading.
-Cheers
Jo