So, what Wilhelm is getting out of this is that Chris is also half some other kind of magical being, and he's not all that eager to share what exactly. As he flies down the road, his thoughts turn to Lucifer, who had concealed his true identity from him for months — who was so prickly about the reputation chained to his name, the role assigned to him by centuries of stories.
Wilhelm can't help but wonder what Chris is hiding, but he doesn't want to pry. Not unless the guy gives him a reason to be suspicious.
"You know, it doesn't really matter what you are, or what you're supposed to be. It doesn't matter here. You're just Chris, like I'm just Wilhelm."
"You say that like you believe it." Chris might have believed him more, if his entire life hadn't revolved around who and what he was. If everything in his life wasn't about being a Halliwell, or Wyatt's little brother, or what his father was. Or if he hadn't been killed because of all those things. It was hard to believe that he could just be him.
That he mattered. Not because of what he was but because of who he was as a person. So, Chris looked more than a little skeptical, but he wanted to believe him. His own belief was just falling a little short. "It sounds like you speak from experience." Idly, he wondered how long it took him to come to that conclusion, and more idly, how many laps they could go around the horizon before they started repeating scenery.
It serves as a response to both: he believes it, and he speaks from experience. He leaves it at that for a minute, soaking in the scenery as it slips past, letting the steady thrum of the stereo fill in the gaps.
"Coming to this world is kind of like getting to start over. You're not defined by what happened before. Like...my parents had my whole future planned out for me. It didn't matter what I wanted, they didn't care." His fingers tense around the steering wheel. "But now, I get to choose."
Chris can choose too. Hadn't he said he thought he was dead back in his world? He thought he'd screwed everything up. It's hard, hauling around mistakes you can't go back and fix. For months, Wilhelm had mourned how everything broke between him and Simon. He wallowed in daydreams about what he would say to him if he ever saw him again. A shattered heart isn't the same as a shattered life, but...even if Chris has nothing to return to, he could find something here.
"When I got here I thought that since I was alive again....I could go back. Just. Not be dead." Was it weird the dispassion with which he said that? Like, have you tried turning it off and on again? "But....I kind of like it here. I like the people here. I like that life isn't so hard."
He wasn't there completely. Not yet. Part of him still wondered if he could go home, what would happen. Could he fix things? Could he make everything alright again? But he'd also started a life here. A real life. One that was his and no one else's.
"It's kind of nice not having to exist for other people, isn't it?" Chris still wasn't sure he could ever escape the fact that he was half-whitelighter. It was a fact that reared its head almost every moment of his life. But maybe there was a difference between ignoring it and accepting it.
Wilhelm hums in agreement. It's nice, being his own person. It was a long journey that brought him there.
"There's nothing wrong with living your own life."
He felt guilty about it for a long time. Guilty for not wanting to go back to his old life. Guilty for disappointing his parents again, despite the anger burning him down for how his mom loved the family's reputation more than she loved him. Guilty, most of all, for letting Erik down after he vowed to follow in his footsteps the best he could.
Sometimes he still does. But he's made his choice, and he would never choose differently.
"I don't know if it's possible for me to live my own life but, I'm sure going to give it one hell of a try."
It was that damn half whitelighter thing, rearing its head. Somehow, it always came down to that. Or was it because Chris let it come down to that? Because he'd refused to accept that part of himself kicking and screaming to the point where it was actively harming him?
And Chris? Chris felt guilty too. For finally existing without Wyatt. Not existing for Wyatt. And everyone else he hurt. For just enjoying himself, figuring out about himself without. Everything else. He was supposed to fix things. Wasn't he? Did that change because he was dead?
"Listen, I know we're in different territories, but. If you ever need a friend, just call my name. I'll hear. I can't....get to you unless it's in the Horizon but. I'll come."
Was that weird? That was weird right? He really wasn't good at this guardian angel/whitelighter thing.
He reaches over to land his hand on Chris's shoulder for a reassuring squeeze. His eyes flicker from the road to lock on him. Yeah, he gets it. He's been trying like hell for two years.
Strangely, he thinks of Lucifer again, who has heard Wilhelm's distress from afar and come swooping in. He laughs to himself, and it turns into a wicked grin. Well, mischievous, at least.
"If you're trying to be my guardian angel, you're too late. I've already got the devil himself on my side. But...I could use a friend." He'd just lost one, after all. "Same to you, okay?"
Chris could message him, if he wanted. For now, they'll leave all those heavy things in the rearview mirror as they loop around the shifting landscape of the Horizon — without ever circling back to the fading rose garden.
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abraxaslogs2024-09-01 09:06 pm
no subject
Wilhelm can't help but wonder what Chris is hiding, but he doesn't want to pry. Not unless the guy gives him a reason to be suspicious.
"You know, it doesn't really matter what you are, or what you're supposed to be. It doesn't matter here. You're just Chris, like I'm just Wilhelm."
no subject
That he mattered. Not because of what he was but because of who he was as a person. So, Chris looked more than a little skeptical, but he wanted to believe him. His own belief was just falling a little short. "It sounds like you speak from experience." Idly, he wondered how long it took him to come to that conclusion, and more idly, how many laps they could go around the horizon before they started repeating scenery.
no subject
It serves as a response to both: he believes it, and he speaks from experience. He leaves it at that for a minute, soaking in the scenery as it slips past, letting the steady thrum of the stereo fill in the gaps.
"Coming to this world is kind of like getting to start over. You're not defined by what happened before. Like...my parents had my whole future planned out for me. It didn't matter what I wanted, they didn't care." His fingers tense around the steering wheel. "But now, I get to choose."
Chris can choose too. Hadn't he said he thought he was dead back in his world? He thought he'd screwed everything up. It's hard, hauling around mistakes you can't go back and fix. For months, Wilhelm had mourned how everything broke between him and Simon. He wallowed in daydreams about what he would say to him if he ever saw him again. A shattered heart isn't the same as a shattered life, but...even if Chris has nothing to return to, he could find something here.
no subject
He wasn't there completely. Not yet. Part of him still wondered if he could go home, what would happen. Could he fix things? Could he make everything alright again? But he'd also started a life here. A real life. One that was his and no one else's.
"It's kind of nice not having to exist for other people, isn't it?" Chris still wasn't sure he could ever escape the fact that he was half-whitelighter. It was a fact that reared its head almost every moment of his life. But maybe there was a difference between ignoring it and accepting it.
no subject
"There's nothing wrong with living your own life."
He felt guilty about it for a long time. Guilty for not wanting to go back to his old life. Guilty for disappointing his parents again, despite the anger burning him down for how his mom loved the family's reputation more than she loved him. Guilty, most of all, for letting Erik down after he vowed to follow in his footsteps the best he could.
Sometimes he still does. But he's made his choice, and he would never choose differently.
no subject
It was that damn half whitelighter thing, rearing its head. Somehow, it always came down to that. Or was it because Chris let it come down to that? Because he'd refused to accept that part of himself kicking and screaming to the point where it was actively harming him?
And Chris? Chris felt guilty too. For finally existing without Wyatt. Not existing for Wyatt. And everyone else he hurt. For just enjoying himself, figuring out about himself without. Everything else. He was supposed to fix things. Wasn't he? Did that change because he was dead?
"Listen, I know we're in different territories, but. If you ever need a friend, just call my name. I'll hear. I can't....get to you unless it's in the Horizon but. I'll come."
Was that weird? That was weird right? He really wasn't good at this guardian angel/whitelighter thing.
no subject
Strangely, he thinks of Lucifer again, who has heard Wilhelm's distress from afar and come swooping in. He laughs to himself, and it turns into a wicked grin. Well, mischievous, at least.
"If you're trying to be my guardian angel, you're too late. I've already got the devil himself on my side. But...I could use a friend." He'd just lost one, after all. "Same to you, okay?"
Chris could message him, if he wanted. For now, they'll leave all those heavy things in the rearview mirror as they loop around the shifting landscape of the Horizon — without ever circling back to the fading rose garden.