Title: Three x Three x Three…
Cannon: Charmed
Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own anything Charmed!
Genre: Drama/Supernatural
Characters: Chris, Wyatt, Bianca, Piper, Paige, Phoebe, Leo, etc…
Pairings: mentions of Chris/Bianca, Leo/Piper, Phoebe/Cole, Paige/Richard...
Timeline: Post Chris-Crossed. Piper and co. have just kicked him out…
Summary: Vignette. For Chris, everything happens in threes…
Three Things Spoken Of
In the beginning, there were three prophecies:
One was known to the magical kingdom, and it spoke of the Twice Blessed child who would be the reincarnation of the greatest King who walked the Earth.
…and he will come, the culmination of his line. And he will be the second coming…
One was spoken and heard but never recorded. It spoke of the culmination's sister, a cute little Promise that's existence would unknowingly start the end of the world.
…child of the Seers will be she who will release the ending when the balance tips…
One was spoken with no one to hear it. This one pointed to a single child in between two other promises. It spoke of the Prince of Magic- the unknown savior known to late.
…who holds the balance must be balanced or be the sacrifice of the failure of time…
Three Feet
In the beginning, there were three sisters, and when Fate realized the problem, it shot out another born of a half-different life. This was the first difference in some beliefs, the first step out of the expected.
The second difference was a view of the future where a little girl of unknown power lived and shocked her mother. The little girl did not know she would not ever see this mother until another time-another place, and the mother took this daughter for something else: a first born child. When later instead she was gifted with a son, she smiled but almost wanted to mourn the loss of nothing.
The third step is always the mystery though. It could have been when the middle that was once the youngest lost her husband to spell-work and could not take him back. It could have been the free will, or the stand-offish ness, or the plain refusal to get in the thick of it that the Elders seem to portray. But Chris believes that it was everyone's expectation that when a child gains an ultimate power, they are expected to do everything right with it, thought they should know nothing is perfect and everything is different then it seems.
Three and Three and Three by Four
The Charmed Ones had always been three sisters, but once upon a time they could have been four. Once upon a time there could have been children between the eldest witch who had the power of telekinesis and astral projection and a cop who at first did not understand.
But instead there were three children each by the other three Charmed Ones.
First came love, but marriage and the baby carriages only came after the first sister was dead for years.
Piper Evelyn Halliwell and Leonard Wyatt had Wyatt Matthew Patrick. Two years later they had Chris Perry. Two years after that they had Melinda Pagan. And that was when Piper knew her little family was complete and she could stop mourning the nothing that she had glimpsed long before.
When her sister's second son was one, Phoebe Madison Halliwell had her own son with given back to her along with the husband she had married… again. The coupling of Phoebe and Cole Devon Turner concluded in the arrival of Benjamin Penn. Not long after, almost a year, came his first sister, Meghan Polly. Two years later came Amanda Prue.
Valerie Paula, Sandra Patricia "Patti", and Antonia "Toni" Payton came all at once to the youngest Charmed One, the half-borne witch of the three the demons once feared. Paige Caroline Matthew-Halliwell and Richard Montana were happy when they only had one birth, but there were three of them at once. And because of the orbs, they were never certain who was oldest, in the middle, or youngest.
When they were alive and their children young, most of the time they were happy.
Three Times
He's at the top of the Golden Gate Bridge. It's dark out and the moon is full. It's going to rain soon-he can tell by the light precipitation and the chill in the air. He was born and raised in San Francisco and he knows this place. He recognizes the chill in the air and the fresh breeze from atop the bridge like an old welcome memory-like the smell of Mommy's cooking waking the family up across the city on Sunday mornings. He knows when it's gonna rain.
Chris Perry Halliwell. That was his name, three words to explain his existence. He wishes he was named 'Victor' instead. His first name his the name of his father's dad, but he never really thought about the dead man. It was Victor he had been close to. His middle name is a filler with a P since his mother did not name him Melinda. He was a boy after all. Melinda came two years after him. His last name -Halliwell- seemed to explain his very existence. Magic, old family heritage, secrets…
Since he was very young, he only knew a few things for certain.
He wasn't normal.
Demons were a regular thing in his family, a weekly, almost daily thing. Demons were only bed time stories in other families. But his was different. He was a Halliwell, a powerful witch. He was a good person in a family of good people that fought the evil.
Mommy was the best mommy.
His Mommy was called 'Piper' and she had been the prettiest person in the world to him. It wasn't the way loved him like she loved his brother and sister. It wasn't the way she could cook for them and make their tummies full with sugary goodness. It was the way she looked at him and he was the same as his brother and sister. It was the way she looked at the three of them and loved Wy, Chris, and Mel for who they were. It was the way she loved them.
When it rains, it pours. When it pours, he can't break down and cry.
It rained when Mel died. It rained the day that nobody believed him when he said something was wrong with Wy. It rained when Mommy and everybody else died. It rained at all the personal funerals he gave. It's raining now.
Chris tries to convince himself that it isn't raining and he isn't crying and he can convince himself in the morning when his eyes aren't red, but that's what glamouri are for…
Three Trials
Chris had grown up with Wyatt-and always the older boy had been with the younger boy. But sometimes he was there too much, like he was afraid that if he wasn't there, Chris would turn his back and disappear into nothing.
There are three different ways that Chris sees his big brother-three ultimate tests that the Twice Blessed cannot fail.
The first came when Mel died. Wyatt raged and held his little brother but did not cry, did not let the tears out. Chris tried not to think that Wyatt had failed in this test.
The second came when Piper-when Mommy- died-when their MOTHER died. On his fourteenth birthday, Chris can remember this horrible feeling in his gut. He had asked to stay home from school but without a reason, Mommy had denied it of him. There would be a surprise party after all, and though Chris knew of it every year, he did not spoil the fun.
Coming home was simple, he had ridden his skateboard home quickly because the twisting in his gut was crawling heavily. He had frozen outside, just looking at the walls that suddenly seemed so quiet, and dropped his board. He'd run inside and seen his mother, the last light pass from her eyes as she stared into him with sorrow that she hadn't believed something was wrong. He called for "Leo!" He called for Wyatt. They hadn't come till later. Wyatt failed the second of Chris's mental trials because he didn't come like he always said he would.
The third trial didn't come until later though, later when Chris knew what Wyatt had become. It had come after Chris had literally put into order the dozens of little orders, organized them and turned them into a Haven, and Alliance. He wouldn't fool himself with calling it a true 'Resistance' as there were only so many that could fight.
And Chris couldn't kill his brother, couldn't let anything happen to his brother. Chris could not allow anyone dangerous near his brother despite the fact that he was trying to undermine the Twice Blessed second coming of Arthur.
In a small battle waves of arms took out Alliance and demons in random swoops. There was pain and death and blood. And no once cared much about who was a demon and who was a witch anymore. But staring into the eyes of his brother, long hair and blue eyes so dark, he stood there and said nothing barely thinking, I love you-I love you-I love you and portraying nothing of emotion.
Wyatt passed the third test-the final test-the most difficult test. When Wyatt said nothing, did nothing but orb away when he had only shimmered for the past six years-when Wyatt left Chris alive though all his own minions and all his brother's allies lay dead around them-when Wyatt did nothing to his brother but let him alone, Chris knew Wyatt was still there somewhere and a bloom of hope blossomed in him somewhere.
Before he left, the little brother asked a question of his girlfriend. Will you marry me? He asked, and when she said yes and the probe beamed around her and then she lay dying from the table he had made potions on for years, he still had hope because his brother did not mean to hurt him. He knew he had to keep his hope.
Sitting in the rain on the top of the Golden Gate Bridge with his feet hanging over the edge, he faces the sky and lets the rain water mingle with his memories in his pain-filled eyes.
Three Words
It amuses him how things may change, but always remain the same. It amuses him how things happen and that it seems fate just likes to screw him over. It terrifies him when he realizes that maybe all of this time travel stuff is just to mess with his head-that in the end they won't remember- that he will fail.
That when he wakes up in the morning, his brother will still be evil. That having power means corruption, even in the form of an innocent baby. He is only one man, one boy who had to grow up really early but never got to the final step.
And in his dreams, there are things that haunt him, words and voices and phases. His mother, his brother, his lover. His family is dead and gone and his heart howls for his sister. Yet even she, sweet-sweet Melinda is just something on the side that haunts him along with everything. Everything else revolves around three people-his mother, his brother, his lover.
"I love you."
It is one of his first memories, his mother speaking this to him and his brother, though he was too young to truly remember it. He always remembers this and it scares him because maybe it was just a dream-and maybe his mother doesn't care. Piper sure doesn't.
His brother says this even when he is stabbing the world in the back and creating and organization of evil in the form of power. Wyatt says it isn't evil, says the world he is creating is all for him-that all that separates one person from any other being is power, pure and simple power. The world of before wasn't worthy. It killed all of their friends and family. It killed their Mel, their little Mel who they fought half-heartedly for against one another, brother and brother for the sister. She was theirs to love, theirs to protect and the world destroyed her.
He hears it for the first time when he is half asleep and naked below her taut body. She says it so quietly so that he can't hear her, light brown hair silky despite sweat and large exotic eyes trying to memorize his resting face. She is an assassin and she can't accept this… this love as it is against everything she has been taught. Still, she trusts him-loves him. And she is against the evil that Wyatt has introduced to the world at large..
So he pretends to be asleep, pretends he can't hear her. He pretends that the world is perfect for a moment and that he can afford feelings against the dark. And finally, hours later when she is finally asleep, he opens his eyes soul-blue as his hated father and grey the color of his battle emotions- and whispers it back.
"Not now, Chris."
They've all said it. In the past it hurt because they were supposed to see, supposed to care and listen to his problems whether it was because he didn't feel good or had a premonition or a new power. It was always like they didn't care. He had gone past it when he tried to tell them about Wyatt but they just caused him pain in not believing him. He wasn't good enough, not as good as Wyatt or Melinda. Why would they care about him when they had the perfect Twice Blessed child and the little girl his mom had always desired, needed to contribute to the family?
They say it all the time now, in the past. They say it every time he orbs in, whether it is to see what they are up to or offer more demons to vanquish. They don't want to hunt demons-even when he says it could be what hurts Wyatt. They ask for proof because they know he has none and he can't help but rage. He cannot have proof. He doesn't know who turns him. All he knows was that it happened before he was born, just barely, because It was unnatural for him and was so a part of his being. But Chris would have remembered talk of something else getting to him.
He doesn't know what happens but he knows his life shouldn't be. He is going to change their future- the Charmed Ones'.
Even if he has to write himself out of it.
"I don't need you."
Don't need you, don't need you, don't need you… This haunts him and Chris knows inside that Wyatt didn't mean it, only said it to hurt him and make him freeze. Why can't he understand that he doesn't enjoy what he is doing-that it kills him to look at the people who will one day be his family and have them see nothing when they glare back?
Wyatt was always one to play dirty. Not being needed was one of his biggest fears-right next to his inferiority complex of his older brother, and his little sweet Melinda. Chris P. Halliwell knows that Wyatt didn't mean it for truth but it haunts him anyway.
Three Forgivenesses
Chris had always been neurotic in a way, whether it was against demons of for the happiness of his family. His sister and brother and mother and cousins and aunts knew that they had to watch him because he would ware himself out helping others without a care for himself.
He had been the one who organized the Book and made sure that no one was sad and gave everyone a healthy balance and a shoulder to whine on. He was the one who everyone else was concerned for when they did something they were ashamed of.
Christopher, fondly called "Peanut" after his favorite food (smoothe peanut butter with celery, bread, honey, jam, jelly, cookies, crackers, cake, strawberries and chocolate, and an infinite array of other delicious appetites), seemed to have an understanding wit about him.
Even some of the most heinous crimes that could not be described, he could at least understand. Even so, there were three things he could forgive despite the consequences.
He can forgive his brother for turning evil.
It wasn't his fault-not really. There had always been something in the back of his mind that had been… off. Sometimes he angered to easy, and when demons came over, he would get confused. Chris knew it wasn't part of his brother's mind frame. But something had happened, something had happened, and when the shit had hit the fan and everything had gone to hell when the rest of the family had died, the Twice Blessed prodigy had just erupted.
Wyatt had built an empire in order to create a world the way he thought it should be-Chris had not the heart to tell him that it was impossible as nothing could ever be perfect and the type of world ruled in fear did not create peace.
When they were little, demons often attacked when the sisters' backs were turned. The children had learned early on that their mothers and aunts could not be protecting them all the time. They had to learn to protect each other when they were all they had. Powers often went flying in dangerous times-the main way to discover new powers in fact. But he had never told his mother or anyone else of the time that Wyatt had thrown a fireball of all things. Though it had been at a demon, it had been a demonic power, and in the living room. It had broken the family clock -again- and had been blamed on a demon.
Wyatt had been so scared afterwards though, at been twelve years old, Chris had truly realized that there was something off about Wyatt's magic. The oldest son had panicked and talked to Chris, nearly cried in his lap. He had whispered assurances to his older brother, whose head was buried in the younger son's lap. Everything would be okay-no one would find out. They'd get to the bottom of it. It wasn't his fault.
The world had been going to hell ever since their mother was killed, ever since she looked into her son's eyes and turned her head, disbelieving. And it may have been at his brother's hand. But it wasn't his fault-not really so Chris did not blame Wyatt for that.
He can forgive Wyatt, his big brother who should have stuck by him… He could forgive Wyatt for walking away.
When their mother died, Leo was a no-show. That was fine though as Christopher had never expected him to appear. Though he heard through the demonic grapevine that Leo had cornered Wyatt in the underground killing demons and hugged him and tried to mourn with him. It was just too bad that they hadn't shown up until Piper Halliwell was six feet under-buried by her middle child. Chris had stood in the empty manor filled with bodies and dust and the smell of blood.
He hadn't ever cried for it. He had wanted to-would have with Wyatt. But the Twice Blessed had taken one look at the carnage, look at him and asked if any of them were alive, and shimmered out. He had almost blamed Wyatt then for their deaths. Where was he when they were dying?! But he hadn't because he knew it was his fault-he hadn't held them together correctly. Something had happened and he hadn't been there.
Chris had been utterly alone. Uncle Daryl and Aunt Sheila and their three kids had tried to help, but despite their 'practically-family' status, they couldn't understand. So he had shown up at his Grampa's house and settled in easily, like he did occasionally when he had wanted to get away from the exciting life of a Halliwell witch. He knew Grampa didn't understand everything in his life, but he was glad for the man's support and unconditional love.
But three months later the man was diagnosed with critical lung cancer. Six months after the death of his mother, Chris buried Grampa Vic on his half-birthday. Wyatt didn't show up. He did not even bother thinking about Leo.
He'd been having run-ins with a Phoenix assassin since he was thirteen, and by the time he was fifteen, the two of them were sharing a flat. The age difference might have put him off-as she was technically seventeen-born two years before him. But an unlucky spell had sent her forward exactly three years, so she was a year younger than him at the same time.
They'd made friends through the whole shebang of magic being introduced to the world and this caused a lot of problems. But really, they were lasting friends. Well, until they'd all died.
And even though he had been alone for a while, he couldn't blame Wyatt because the Twice Blessed had been afraid of one basic thing: losing control of himself. From a very young age he had been told that Control was the important thing. He couldn't give way, he couldn't let loose in case something happened, and he could not, absolutely could not, afford to lose some things. Lest his powers defy him.
He had originally gone underground to regroup, to find some demons to spend his anger on. And then he realised that things were spinning out of control. And suddenly it wasn't his self that was running away from him-it was everything else he had to control. He had to keep the pain away. He had to keep Chris's pain away.
So he didn't see him for a few years, but Chris was his brother. He'd know if he was alive.
And when Wyatt walked away from the manor that was suddenly so empty, leaving Chris behind. Maybe it was better because Wyatt would have to hurt people. Even if he wanted him by his side, by choice, he would never force Chris into anything. He'd turned the manor into a museum later because he couldn't face the memories there. He couldn't face that they had been real. So he made it a place of simply magical powers that had once been good and legendary. Now, the magic was the only thing there. There was no mention of the children that had died or the two that had lived. All there had been was ancestry and some tales made for bedtime.
Wyatt may have betrayed his brother by walking out of the manor and into something else. But Chris didn't blame him. Chris understood him. Chris could forgive him for that.
He can forgive Wyatt for killing Bianca.
As twisted as it sounds, it's true. It hadn't been an intentional thing-not really. It had been self-defense, a kick behind him to quit an offensive magic against him. It had only been chance that she had risen so through the air and been impaled on the edge of the long-remembered table that had been in the attic for as long as the attic had been there.
Wyatt knew she loved him and that Chris loved the Phoenix back and Christopher Perry Halliwell knew that no matter what, his brother wouldn't hurt him-not really. It had been an accident-Chris knows this but still feels bitter about the death because he loved-loves her, will love her as long as he exists. She is dead, and it was at Wyatt's hand but it was an accident. Wyatt hadn't meant to kill her, would let her live-even against him- for Chris.
But she was still dead and the pain in his head hurts in his chest like a growing burn. It threatens to swallow him. She was a life he will not get to live.
Three Guilts
Their family was never normal, not really. But even so, he loved them all. He loved his brother and kind of stuck to him, and was stuck to, when Mel died. Wyatt didn't let him out of his sight for years after their little sister was cold and six feet under.
Chris remembers a cold grave and a cold night bowed in the mud with his brother watching from a point in the brush, thinking he was watching without being watched.
Even with that love though, some things always went wrong. Chris liked to think of himself as an honest person, a caring person, but there were some thing even his infinite love could not forgive.
He could not forgive his father for walking away.
He will always remember when he was five years old and even after multiple fights heard from closets his father walked away with a goodbye for his brother and a kiss for his sister. Leo would return for training and night kisses. He had never been fond of the father would had never been fond of him but he allowed him into his space –though he often wrecked it- over and over again. The Elder was good for his brother and sister, so he could at least let him have some space.
What he could not forgive evereverever about his father walking away was the sound of blood on the floor and screams in the air of That Day when his little sister died and Leo did not come.
He could not forgive his sister for dying.
It was the most hideous thing he could think about himself despite the blood on his hands. He knows it isn't her fault-it's only the fault of his father for not coming and himself for not being able to heal and the Elders for not warning them and a stupid fucking prophet however long ago who told the world that she was what held the pendulum in sway. She was the fulcrum, the magnet in the beak of a balancing bird. She was the youngest but held the orbits straight.
He loves Melinda, will always love his little sister-their little sister. But she is dead and the world is going to hell.
He could not forgive Piper Halliwell for the first time she looked at him and saw nothing.
He has never cared about himself, not really. But for once he held himself above 'nothing.' So when she looks at him and sees nothing, not even an annoying, neurotic, whitelighter who is trying to save her son, it hurts so much... She is his mother –Youllalwyasbemybabyboy- and "I love you," rings true for his mother but he hears "Get out of my house!" when he thinks of Piper Halliwell.
His mother's name is Piper, though and no matter how hard he tries, he cannot separate them as fully as he likes. He can fight back the words, but when she sees nothing it goes against everything he has ever known. She was still beautiful and she could cook fine but when she looked at him and saw nothing, she wasn't his mom, -Mommywhywontyoubelieveme-Mommywhydontyouseeme-MommyIhavetosaveWy-there were a thousand-and-one thoughts he wanted to tell her and couldn't.
If she had seen him-recognized something in him, then maybe he could have blushed and gone without the lies and avoided only a little of the truth. Maybe he could have had a piece of his Mommy back for just a little while before he faded into nothing and left the future wide open for his brother and sister and relatives and Bianca and maybe even what his new self might become.
He remembers his first words as if they were written in stone or in the script of the movie everyone sees a thousand times because it's so good.
…-"Titan turned her to stone.- Yeah, but just like twenty years or so.- What do you mean? I saved Paige, didn't I?- Hey, I'm the one that put my life on the line here. I didn't have to drop everything I was doing just to orb in and save her butt...- Look, where I come from, history shows Paige didn't get turned into stone on this day... she died. And with her death the power of three died too, allowing Titans to rule and create a world you don't wanna see, trust me. I'm here to alter history. To help you save the future.- I can't answer that.- Because anything I tell you could risk changing the future in ways we don't want.- All I gotta say is, is that if I hadn't got here when I did, Paige would have been the third Whitelighter victim.- Not anymore.- Believe me now?- What does it look like I'm doing? I'm trying to find a way to free stone-cold Paige over here.- Please, like I haven't looked in this before. By the way, you should update your goblins entry. It'll come in handy some day.- Yeah, trust me. It's gonna get ugly. Look, obviously you don't trust me, but I touched the book, right? And the book thinks I'm good. Shouldn't you?- Piper, come on. I'm just trying to help."-…
And okay, maybe he had slipped up a little bit and given something away that he shouldn't. Maybe he could have been less personally-but this was the mother he loved who died when he wasn't even grown up.
But she had turned him into a liar.
Chris had always tried to be honest and had stuck by that. But the second he went backwards in time to change something, his own mother who had promised to love him forever and ever and before time began in any form.
She wasn't his mother yet. He could see that. And though he understood that there was still something in him that said Mommyhelpme-Mommyseeme-Mommyholdme she was his mother.
Three That Could Have Been
She was beautiful and full of the sunrise, Christopher liked to say.
When Bianca first found out she was pregnant, there was a great fear that she would do something wrong, that Chris would be made, that she couldn't be a parent. There were so many worries and things that could go wrong… She was just twenty-two, or twenty-five depending how you thought, and Christ was twenty-three. But Chris had been ecstatic and over-protective and so many other things.
Bianca was their spy and they had all been afraid that something would go wrong-that Wyatt or one of his demons would end up killing the child without even meaning to.
Despite their worries, Piper "Pippa" Lynn Halliwell was born at a quarter to four in the morning. She immediately had her Daddy and all of her 'aunts' and 'uncles' wrapped around her finger. Chris sent Wyatt a few thoughts for her. He may have been practically the enemy, but he was still Chris's brother. He was Pippa's godfather, though he had never seen her or even a picture.
Pippa's first word was "Ma," soon followed by "Da" and then "Wy" not for a question but for the stories and memories her Daddy told her every night. She could not say her name correctly so she was "Pippa" even when she could.
Her smile used to wash away all of Chris's worries and it would change the world around them, as if there was no war and no worries and no one wondering how long it would be until they could not anymore.
She had the shield that all of Piper's children had to protect them, coupled with astral projection, telekinesis from her father, an odd type of movement that looked like a shimmer but shined with blue as if from water. For her fourth birthday, they had gotten her a water-cat, a silky feline that changed blue shades according to emotion. Pippa named her Mela because Pippa's second-favorite fruit was a nice ripe watermelon with salt, and she couldn't very well name her pet Straw. And Mela already had the water part down.
It was on her fifth birthday that the wary happiness shattered, went to hell. In honor of his little secret goddaughter, Wyatt denied all of his minions to kill on her birthday, November 13th. Unfortunately, not every demon was as smart as they liked to think. A rising group wishing for praise, raided parts of the city. Unfortunately, Chris and Bianca had glamoured themselves and taken her to one of the parks not near too many broken buildings.
Bianca, Chris, and just about everybody in the area had immediately been hit by fireballs. Some made it, some turned to dust, and some just couldn't take it. Chris and Bianca had been downed before they could get to Pippa. Their beautiful daughter's shield may have protected her from the incinerating fireball, but it didn't save her from the killing gas thrown in various places around the park. Twenty died in just a few minutes.
Bianca miscarried.
Happiness leached out of Chris in a second. He sent his brother a look at those responsible and Wyatt made sure that Chris could hear their screams even years later. He'd torture them, kill them, and then bring them back.
A year later, Bianca didn't think that Chris had seen the blood on the sheets after the raid. But Bianca never got pregnant a fourth time.
All Chris could do was save his brother now. All Wyatt could do was try to create a better world for his brother now. All Bianca could do was spy and try to do what no once could do.
Chris still couldn't tell his brother that the world he was looking for couldn't exist.
The Golden Gate Bridge is soaked and water falls off the edge of the niche and Chris has to steady himself from the torrent threatening to throw him over. He doesn't care-not really. He is just numb and the water feels like his life. There is always something and it feels like he is on the edge of some unseen precipice.
Numb to the pain but the smoothe leather as the liquid sashays past is almost comforting, a fleeting whimsy.
But now there is no one to call him back from the edge for his health. Christopher imagines that maybe someone will find him, that his mother will do something and discover who she is to him, that his Aunt Phoebe will have a premonition and see something in his life that will give him away, that his Aunt Paige will catch a cold and sneeze herself into some other world where he is discovered.
But he can't let go. Chris can't let himself fall away into oblivion. Before the water carries him over, he orbs to a warehouse he knows is warm and always has an open bathroom. He needs to get dry before he does anything else.
Back at P3 an hour later, he takes out a small wallet under the third cushion of the couch he sleeps on. There are pictures. He takes out the one of his whole young family-the last happy picture with Melinda in it. This was the last time the family was whole-the balance still even.
He flips through a few more and remembers again. This is what he is fighting for, fighting to change and conserve at the same time.
The second-to-last picture is just a few days before her fifth birthday. Piper Lynn is soaked from the pool and Mela is taking in the water droplets running off of her, soaking it in like most cats take in sun. Bianca is peaking her head out of the pool and smiling happily at them. The dampening towels Pippa has buries herself in make her look so like a child he can't help but smile sadly.
Mela purrs and there is a blue orb inside her rich blue skin. This is enough to say she is happy.
The last picture is just him, Bianca, and the few friends they have left. There may be a few hundred fighting in the Resistance, but only a few are truly friends. He kisses the pictures one by one, running his fingers over them to try and remember the little details. Finally though he sighs and sits up again.
He lights a candle for Pippa, who would be seven, and just sits back and stares into the flame. His brown dark hair is still damp on his face but his clothes are washed and clean. He doesn't speak or make much noise. He just remembers. The flame runs off of the pink birthday candle by a quarter to four, and the second son –he whom holds the balance- lets dreaming sleep take him.
He has to get back to work in the morning.
END.