CRYSTAL, CRYSTAL, CRYSTAL... THAT'S all that's been on Charlie's mind for the last 24 hours. He got home from the Nelsons still thinking of her, did his homework, made dinner still thinking of her. Went to bed and dreamed of her, spent a hockey practice and a morning full of classes recounting every moment they shared Saturday and Sunday. He was sitting now in study hall, knowing that he desperately needed to get some work done if he wanted to see her after school, but he was still too preoccupied.
Though he was partially so taken with his memories because of how much he loved Crystal, how much he had yearned for her, the factor that kept him so hung up about it was that he couldn't tell anyone. How could he? No one would believe that a girl who studies Atlantis and loves Alf (and apparently Muppet Babies) would be able to confess romantic love to a boy in such a profound, sophisticated way. Not to mention the kiss story was utterly unbelievable and shockingly anomalous.
So he sat in the library with his math textbook and notebook in front of him, the numbers dancing on the page as he stared. None of the problems he had for homework were of any importance to him — the more crucial issue was the debacle all this put him in.
Charlie's friend Fulton is two minutes late to study hall, toting a textbook from one of his electives, he likely had to go and grab it. He takes his usual seat across a table from Charlie, noting he has that "word vomit" look. Fulton mentally prepares for the potential barrage of information, knowing he wouldn't be getting any work done for the next 40 minutes.
"Charlie, what is it?" He asks bluntly.
"How did you know?"
"Your face."
Charlie chuckles at Fulton's comment. "Okay... look, a lot of shit went down at the dance, after, and apparently it's obvious that i'm losing my mind."
"Care to elaborate on said 'shit?'"
"Using 'shit' is wrong... all I know is that this moral dilemma only seems to get bigger each time I see Crystal."
"So something happened. Did she initiate it?"
"She told me she loved me, and she kissed me. But those happened in different memory cycles — she knew me in the first, not the second. But she knew she loved me somehow."
Fulton doesn't know what to say at first. His understanding of Charlie's situation was already limited, forget his knowledge of amnesia, so trying to figure out even what Charlie meant was difficult.
"Does Chris know?"
"No... but Carrie knows about the kiss." Charlie brings his hands to his face, hiding in embarrassment. "I also failed to mention that I shared Crystal's bed for the night. God, I am an idiot. But I was tired, and she was upset, and I just wanted to hold her so she wouldn't cry..."
"Are you in love with her?"
"Of course I am. And don't start with me about it, I'm ashamed enough as is."
"I wasn't going to."
Fulton knows the way Charlie responded with no hesitation means it's serious. He really was in deep shit. But to him, there were some solutions to the problem, namely one that would absolve him of a lot of guilt and keep him happy. It was almost preposterously obvious.
"Would you marry her?" Fulton asks.
"...I don't see how that's a relevant question."
"Just answer it, man. You're always so stubborn."
"It's also a loaded question."
"Are you so serious about your feelings for her that you would?" Fulton restates his question.
"Terrifyingly enough, absolutely. I still don't see how this is relevant."
Charlie said what Fulton needed to hear.
"Charlie, you love her so much that you'll be miserable if you can't have her. It's too late to stop it."
"Then what am I supposed to do?"
"Pursue your happiness."
"...Fulton, my happiness is impossible. There's no answers to any of these moral questions except 'don't even go there.'"
"Where there are no answers, you must get your own. And you can either pick with your happiness in mind or not."
Charlie was a little baffled by Fulton's words, not knowing his friend could be so wise and rational, but he believes what he says. He was handling this the best he could, continuing to do "the next right thing" whenever possible — whatever would make Crystal happy was always his choice. And while sometimes that meant sacrificing his own happiness, it wasn't often that they had different wishes.
He knew that what would make him happy would be to have some sort of relationship with Crystal that went beyond friendship, whatever that would look like considering her problems. There would be plenty of hurdles and even more ethical debate, but clearly both of them wanted and needed more than what a friendship gave them. Crystal needed love and comfort as much as possible; affection to keep her grounded and calm. What wouldn't be suitable for a friend to provide would be if it came from a boyfriend.
So he stands and packs his things, promptly leaving the library — he had to act. The last time he took too long to confess his love to Crystal, she was hospitalized with cancer. He couldn't take the chance anything could happen before he could tell her again. Upon calmly walking out the front doors of Eden Hall, trying not to be caught, he starts running.
Across the hall from the library is a science lab, where at this hour in particular, Chris and Sarah are in Physics class. Today's class included a short lecture followed by time to complete homework, meaning the two had plenty of time to talk once they finished.
Sarah had let Chris copy her answers discreetly (knowing he would struggle to get them done on his own) so she would have time to talk to him. Chris had spent most of the class looking at Sarah when he should have been paying attention. What does such a smart girl think about? He wonders, jotting notes.
"So, some crucial news... you did save me from getting roofied." Sarah starts, catching his attention. "One of my girl friends took a drink and was nearly passed out when we found one of the prep school boys feeling her up. That ended the dance like ten minutes after you all took off."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"Don't be sorry! You helped me. I can't thank you enough."
"You don't have to." Chris insists.
Chris flips through his planner — a planner his mother forced him to buy considering he was forgetful about homework assignments — trying to ignore the bubbling of warmth he felt inside. Keep the fire down, Chris. You got lucky last time, but luck only comes once in a blue moon.
"You're also a very brave guy." She sneaks her hand over his. "...I followed you when you went to go confront Cole for getting with Carrie. I don't know many people that would do what you did."
It embarrassed Chris to know that she had seen that confrontation, especially considering the outcome made him look like a meek mouse cowering before a giant dog.
"You don't have to kid with me. It was far from effective... I'm surprised he hasn't brought payback upon me yet."
"Do you always have to talk down on yourself Chris? You're one of the kindest people I know. And I know I don't know you well, and you probably think that's why I'm saying that, but that's not the case. You exude kindness. I mean, what kind of guy goes to his senior winter formal only to supervise his two sisters?"
"A sad one."
"No, a great one."
It seems then that Chris has finally realized that Sarah's hand was holding his. He tries not to panic, feeling ever more hot. Amazingly enough, luck returns — she was not burned. He interlaces their fingers, accepting the touch. She still is not phased.
She looks at him with her sparkling eyes, blonde hair in its perfect cascading waves, and Chris doesn't know what to do. He keeps telling himself he doesn't know what she wants from him, that he doesn't know what he wants from her, but he absolutely does. He just can't see it yet.
The bell rings, leaving their conversation with no resolution. Sarah sighs, and Chris packs up his things. He wishes he didn't have to let her hand go, but he did. Sarah just flashes her rather shiny smile, dashing off to her next class.
Where Chris was sir misfortune, Sarah was lady luck.
Around 1:00, Charlie arrives at the Nelson's apartment to silence. It was usually quiet considering Crystal was the only one home, but this was unusual. He treads slow down the hall, not looking to scare her — he hadn't thought any of this through.
Peeking in her doorway, he finds Crystal asleep on her bed amidst a pile of notes, her Walkman and headphones, and a book or two. She didn't look comfortable, so she must have been exhausted. Charlie cautiously steps in, picking up some of the items scattered about her and putting them back on her desk. Though he doesn't take the Walkman (she had been listening to it, her headphones were in), he gets rid of just about everything else. He found she was listening to the tape of "Drive" that Chris made for her — no wonder she fell asleep.
Charlie takes the spare blanket that sits on the trunk at the end of her bed, laying it over her. Much better, he thinks, she shouldn't have to be uncomfortable if I can help it. But just as he starts to walk out, she stirs. He turns back, watching her eyes gently open. A smile emerges on her lips, and she turns onto her back.
"Hi Charlie." She says with joy, somehow not phased or "fuzzy" about remembering him. Charlie feels like he's floating as he returns to her side, sitting on her comforter.
"Hi Crystal."
"How long was I out?" She rubs her eyes. "I hope you didn't wait too long for me."
"I just got here, so I don't know. I didn't have to wait long at all." He moved her hair out of her face. "Dream about anything interesting, sleeping beauty?"
"Actually, now that you say that, yes." She sighs. "I think I was dreaming about you. But I didn't know who you were. We were picking rocks and flowers at the brook."
"That sounds nice... we do that together every once in a while. The way your memory works fascinates me."
"Well I don't know that I find it fascinating, I find myself more scared."
"I know, I'm sorry." Charlie rubs her shoulder, taking her hand in his. "You wanna go back to bed?"
"No... but I'm still a little sleepy."
"I know, I see it in your eyes."
Crystal sits up slowly, feeling the rush of blood to her head and looking into Charlie's eyes. She was so happy he was here, she had butterflies in her stomach when she saw his picture in her book that morning — she didn't know why. If he was her best friend, then why did she feel things for him that she had to keep a secret? All she can think to do is hold onto his arm, setting her head on his shoulder.
"Do you wanna go watch some TV, snuggle-bug?"
"That sounds nice."
She doesn't let his arm go as he walks them to the living room. Charlie turns on the TV and soon finds himself laying there with Crystal beside him under a blanket. Now Charlie had to find the words to tell her everything... again.
He decides to be straightforward. "Crystal, I love you. In the more-than-a-friend way."
"You do?"
"Yes, I do."
She smiles, turning over to face him. "...You've had to tell me this before, haven't you?"
"I promised I would tell you each time I see you." He pets her hair back. "How do you feel today?"
"I'm feeling like I love you very much."
"Then I have another question. Would you want to be something more than friends?"
"I want to be your girlfriend." Crystal traces the side of Charlie's face. "Do you want to be my boyfriend?"
"I'd really like that."
Before Charlie can kiss her, Crystal squeals like the excited little girl she was. He just laughs, feeling a sense of relief that he wasn't crazy for wanting to be in a relationship with her.
"I'm so happy, I've always wanted a boyfriend!" She manages to smile even wider. "We should celebrate, let me see if we have ice cream!"
Crystal shoots up, scampering off to the kitchen. Charlie has this overwhelming feeling of "God what did I get myself into," as he watches her walk away, but it's a good thing to feel. He watches her pull a pint of ice cream from the fridge.
"We have chocolate!" She beams.
"Crystal, would Chris and your mom be mad that you're having ice cream before dinner?"
"No..."
She sounds guilty, Charlie knows she's lying. "I don't believe you. We can have some later, after dinner."
"Sorry, I was just excited."
"I know, my love." Charlie sits up, and as Crystal returns, she sees the opportunity to sit on his lap. Because nobody else is around, he doesn't mind at all. He plants a kiss on her cheek and she blushes, adjusting so she could see him better, her legs now across his lap.
"You're too sweet, Charlie." She gives him a hug. When she pulls back, Charlie kisses her. Crystal smiles up against his lips — I'm a big girl now, she thinks, I have a big strong boyfriend who loves me... even though I was ten yesterday.
Charlie eventually relaxes, still holding Crystal in his arms. He thought doing all of that confessing would be much more difficult than it actually was. She was always a relief for him, but he finally felt sane for the first time in the last day. He thought he could fall asleep right there, snuggling with the prettiest girl in the world. His heart finally stops racing as he hides his face in Crystal's neck.
At least, that is, until Carrie and Chris get home. When Chris sees his sister on Charlie's lap, any semblance of today being a good day was gone to him. Charlie knew better, knew he wasn't allowed to hold her like that, keep her on his lap like a prized possession. And just by the way his head was so close to hers, he knew that more had occurred — his worst fear.
Not wanting to upset Crystal (but knowing he probably would anyway), Chris sets his things down and tries to approach the situation calmly. He makes his way over to them, ignoring Carrie's non-verbal pleas for him to leave it alone, and stands so he blocks the TV.
"Chrissy!" Crystal smiles. "How was school?"
By this point, Charlie knows something bad is coming, having taken his face from her, moving his arms from around her waist. Chris isn't so easily fooled.
"Crystal, get off Charlie's lap right now." The latter words leave Chris's lips through gritted teeth — Crystal, scared by his emphasis, gets herself off him immediately.
"I'm sorry Chris." She sounds nervous as she speaks, her voice dropping off.
"It's not your fault, gemstone — I said it rash, I'm sorry. The problem here is Charlie. Can I talk to you, Conway?" He gestures for Charlie to follow him out, and he goes to stand. Charlie is well aware he's in deep shit, but he needs to be able to explain the truth anyway. He's handled Chris when he's angry like this before, he trusts that he can do it again.
"But Chris, he's my boyfriend! What did he do wrong?"
Chris knows he's going to explode from the minute his baby sister utters "boyfriend," and he lets that energy launch him over the side of the couch, knocking both him and Charlie onto the floor. Crystal stares in shock, the tears already coming, as Carrie rushes over.
"Chris, Chris, please don't hurt him!" Crystal cries. "He didn't hurt me!"
"What are you doing!" Carrie yells, now seeing that Chris has Charlie pinned on the ground and looks ready to kill him.
The boys kick and punch, struggling for dominance without speaking much at all. Generally though, Chris maintains his status of having the control. He tunes out Crystal's crying and pleas for him to stop, her hands trying to pull him off, and instead focuses on the task at hand. He had been right all along, Charlie really did want to perv on his sister. And to think he had trusted him to care for her at the dance, let him sleep over in their home just a day ago — who knows what deviant things he had done without Crystal remembering?
"Stop, let him go, you're hurting him! Don't hurt him any more!" Crystal manages to get her arms around Chris and tries with all her might to pull him off the boy she loved. But her desperate attempts are no use, no match to the adrenaline rushing through Chris's veins. He has his hands on Charlie's neck, choking him out and simultaneously slamming his head against the wooden floor.
"What did I tell you? I gave you a second chance and you proved me right! You just want to fuck her!"
Charlie can't breathe, that's obvious. Still, he's processing what Chris is saying, trying to jolt him off. But at the forefront of it all, he's listening to Crystal cry and yell for her brother's mercy. He hated being the cause of her upset. Once more, Charlie was terrified that he could die at the hands of Chris Nelson, no matter how stupid it may have sounded to someone else. Chris looks possessed, and Charlie knows that if he really wanted to, he could snap his neck any second now.
Charlie makes the mistake of throwing a punch for Chris's cheek. Chris takes it as an invitation to punch the shit out of him. Left, right, left, Chris left matching blows with opposing fists. At least he could breathe now.
"I wasn't trying to hurt her, I wasn't! I just want her to be happy!"
"You want her in a way you can't have! She's not gonna be anywhere near you, you're not going to touch her, see her ever again!" Chris manages to stop Charlie from squirming yet again. "I knock you out, dump you outside, that's it. You'll never get to see her again."
"You do that, and she'll never forgive you. She won't know why, but she will never, ever forgive you." Charlie manages to speak.
The adrenaline wears down for Chris, to the point where he can now hear and feel what he's done. There's blood on his hand that doesn't belong to him, his sister's arms around his chest with all her weight leaning on him, her sobs tuned right to his ear; Carrie crying at this point too considering none of her hoarse yells did any good.
"Don't knock him out," Crystal hiccups, crying so hard she's coughing, "I'm sorry Chris, I made a mistake, I'm sorry I love him, s'sorry..."
As her tears stain his gray t-shirt, Chris makes his decision on a question he didn't know he was asking. He stands without a word, letting Crystal slink off of him and fall back into Carrie's legs. He walks with no anger in his steps to the kitchen, washing his hands.
Still in shock, Crystal crawls to Charlie's side, hearing him breathe normally but seeing he was in and out by the look on his face. She pulls his shoulders into her lap, wiping the blood from his chin and his neck, attempting to soothe her heaving chest and jittery frame by ensuring his safety. What gets Charlie to see clearly is the sight of her crying over him. He just reaches out to hold her forearm, trying to get a smile on his face despite the busted lip.
"I'm going to be fine, Crystal. I'm alright. It's okay if you need to cry, but I need you to know I'm okay."
"You're not okay, I need to clean you up!" She remarks, the emotion still caught up in her voice; feeling Carrie's presence still behind her, she pulls on the leg of her jeans. "Can you get the kit? I've gotta help him."
Carrie finally unfreezes from all the terror, shakily following Crystal's wish.
Chris only has to glance over at Crystal and Charlie to know he overreacted... yet again. And this time Crystal wouldn't be as forgiving as she was the last. He knows the best thing for him to do would be to go off on a walk and leave them alone so they could converse about this, but the thought comes a moment too late.
Donna walks in the door as Chris turns from the sink, as Carrie exits the bathroom with the first aid kit, as Crystal has Charlie take his shirt off since it's covered in his own blood. What a sight to see the one time you get home from work early. Frankly, she's absolutely terrified to ask how this even happened, what happened.
"Mom, I can explain-" Chris starts, but Donna doesn't want to hear it. Though she couldn't figure out what had happened, she could discern by the tension and the smell of guilt on her son that Chris had started this.
"I don't want to hear it, Chris. Go to your room and stay until I come get you."
Chris would never disobey his mother. He walks off to his room embarrassed.
Donna then shifts her attention to her daughters and Charlie, wincing upon seeing the extent of the damage. "Charlie, are you okay? He didn't get you too bad?"
"Yes I am, Miss Donna... worse than it looks, I'm fine." He pauses for a moment, looking up at Crystal who is now wiping his face using a cotton ball with rubbing alcohol. "Crystal's got it covered, little expert."
"I'm not little!" She quips, giggling.
Donna eases only slightly, signaling to Carrie that she wanted to talk to her to get the story of what happened. They head off into the kitchen, leaving Crystal and Charlie alone again.
"You know, I got to learn all about first aid at the Y, I was first aid girl for Chris's soccer team."
"I'm sure you've done a great job." Charlie humors her as she repeats the same story she told the last time he was injured.
"Your lip is kinda gnarly looking, but the cut isn't too big and the edges aren't rough."
"Thank you for taking care of me, Crystal."
"No need. I bet you've taken care of me countless times... you protect me."
"You protect me, sweetheart. If it weren't for you, Chris wouldn't have stopped."
"If it weren't for me, none of that would have happened in the first place." She sniffs.
"Well I'd rather it happen if it means I get to have you, even if it's just for a moment."
As she finishes up on him, he gets himself sitting up and she packs up the kit, immediately going to investigate how to get the blood out of his shirt. It was a blue t-shirt, so she realizes should just come out in the normal laundry. She goes ahead and throws it in with some stain remover.
"Crystal, you didn't have to do that."
"Yes I did, I'm taking care of you, remember?"
"I know. But I'm a big boy, I can handle it."
Charlie brings himself to his feet, taking a seat back on the couch. Crystal continues on to the kitchen, getting a bag of ice together so she could start icing Charlie's face. He'd be lucky if his face wasn't purple tomorrow, let alone cleared up. She returns to him, sitting in his lap despite knowing the dangers and starting to ice his cheek.
"That's cold, Crystal." He hisses initially, letting the tension go.
"I know, I'm sorry."
With the rest of her body, Crystal snuggles to Charlie. She gets her side against his bare chest, discreetly calming herself with his heartbeat and absorbing the spare warmth that was radiating off of him like a campfire.
"I was so scared," Crystal continues. "I didn't want Chris to hurt you, h-he was gonna kill you, we got lucky."
"You don't have to be scared anymore. I'm right here, and nothing like that is gonna happen again — I promise. Chris won't ever hurt you, and neither will I."
"But Chris did hurt me!"
"I mean physically hurt you. But I know Chris is gonna apologize to you sometime today. And as long as you need me, I'll be right here."
Charlie holds her there for what feels like forever, Crystal only moving to ice a different part of his face. She now felt highly scared and uncomfortable, and being close to Charlie was the only thing soothing her big feelings. Eventually Donna makes her way back to them, sitting beside Charlie and her daughter, rubbing the latter's back.
"Charlie... you don't have to stay or keep holding her if you don't want." Donna starts. "It's okay if you want to go."
"No, I want to be here. I like being here." Charlie sets his head over Crystal's. "I don't mind Miss Donna, I really don't."
"Don't make Charlie leave, mommy... I need him." Crystal adds.
"I know, I'm not gonna. I'm just asking..." She smiles. "Maybe we should get you some Ibuprofen."
"That would be nice." Charlie smiles. "Thank you."
When Donna returns with the pill and a glass of water, she decides that she needs to talk to Crystal and Charlie about their relationship. From what Carrie had said, a conversation was needed.
"Crystal, do you love Charlie?" Donna asks, clasping her hands together where she sat on the chair diagonal to them.
"Yes, I do." Crystal looks away from Charlie for once, smiling at her mother.
"And do you love Crystal, Charlie?"
"I do... a lot."
"And you two want to date?" Both kids nod, and Donna smiles. "Then that's alright with me."
"Thank you."
"You're very welcome, Charlie."
"Thank you mom!"
"You're welcome."
While Donna gave Charlie a look that said "this conversation isn't finished," it wasn't a mean one. Charlie knew that when Crystal fell asleep (which would be soon), they'd be able to talk about it just the two of them. Crystal dozes in Charlie's arms, hiding her face in his shoulder. Though she'd never say anything about it, she liked being right up against his skin. Even more secret was how she thought Charlie was attractive when he didn't have a shirt on...
"Do you wanna take another nap, Crystal?"
"Mhm..."
So he takes her in his arms, carrying her down the hall to her bed and getting her comfortably tucked in. She doesn't want to let him go as usual, which only makes it harder for Charlie to leave.
"Can't you stay?"
"You need to rest, and I need to talk to your mom."
"But you must be cold, you don't have a shirt..."
"I'll be alright, shirt's almost ready for the dryer anyway." He kisses her cheek. "Rest. You're tired, please sleep."
"I love you..." she trails off, only getting more sleepy.
"I love you." He shuts off her light and leaves her in the quiet. Crystal was right, it was strange to walk around a house that wasn't his own with no shirt on, but by now he spent an equal amount of time at the Nelsons as he did at his own home. Still, he goes for the washing machine, taking his shirt out and putting it into the dryer.
There were dry clothes left in the machine before he put his shirt in, so he took it out before he ran the load. He threw it all into a laundry basket and brought it to fold in the living room.
"Charlie, you really don't have to-"
"It's totally fine. My chore at home is laundry — my mom says I fold clothes better than she does."
"Well then I'll help you, this isn't your house, this is my job." Donna sits beside him, taking a shirt up and beginning to fold.
As they work, Charlie realizes he knows more of the Nelson's wardrobes than he thought. This load was made up of various whites and lights from Chris, Carrie, and Crystal; discerning Chris's clothes was easy, but even the differences between Carrie and Crystal's clothes was so clear to him, Carrie with her small, tight shirts, Crystal with baggy ones that could easily be mistaken for a grown man's, but aged enough where you could see they were handed down to her.
"Charlie, I trust you because I have no reason to not trust you — I won't be having Chris police you when you're together, and I won't be standing over your shoulder. But I'm trusting you with a lot, more than what the average person would have to handle. If you ever want out, I want you to talk to me." Donna starts.
"I'm not gonna leave her unless she wants me to... and even then I probably won't leave because she can change her mind each day. But I'm glad you trust me, 'cause I feel like I've tried my butt off to get Chris to see I'm not a bad person."
"You're not bad at all. The thing with Chris is that Crystal is the only person he cares about. He doesn't have friends or a significant other, he just has us and her. And she has been his responsibility more than anybody else's, which makes me feel terrible to admit but it's true. Even though you aren't, he thinks you're trying to take her from him."
"He's a good guy, all I'm trying to do is help him out. I want to take care of Crystal, and I know that's his job, but if we can share, then it would be less on his shoulders so he can pursue the things he deserves."
"You're very right. And I hope me talking to him will work some of that out. I should have talked to him about it a long time ago from what Carrie just told me, but I didn't know that he, uh... attempted to kill you with a Swiss army knife."
Charlie giggles. "It's really fine, I promise."
Donna isn't trying to beat around the bush, but what her and Charlie really needed to discuss was what the boundaries of his relationship with Crystal would have to be. It was uncomfortable to talk about those things with her children, let alone a child who she felt such responsibility and care for. She didn't want to do it, but this was the responsible thing to do. Thankfully she didn't have to come up with a segue to bring it up, as Charlie had taken one of Carrie's bras from the pile and hooked the back together, putting it on her stack of clothes, entirely unphased.
"And Charlie, lets just say nothing below the neck... you understand?"
The statement comes as a little bit of a surprise to him, but he knows she means. "Yes, of course... I wouldn't even think about it."
Well, Charlie wasn't being entirely honest. The truth was he had thought of it more than a handful of times, all in the shared context of never ever could I do that. Just thinking about it made him feel physically ill — anything more than what Donna had suggested would be plain wrong and he knew it. He still felt guilt and shame over the things she had said it was okay to do, let alone anything else.
"Maybe we could update her book tomorrow." Charlie suggests. "That way she can know everything like I do."
"That sounds like a great idea — i'll get the pictures from the dance developed."
Once Charlie's shirt is dry, he decides to head home so Donna could deal with Chris. He could see she was antsy, and he understood why completely. Chris was never the child Donna had to reprimand (not that any of her children were troublemakers in the first place), and because of her emotional connection to him she felt bad for having to bring the consequences of his actions down upon him.
Donna opens the door into Chris's room, where he sits at his desk with homework sprawled over the top. None of it has been written on. He stares off out the window. Chris figured it out — his emotions always hurt people in the end. He had been good, trying hard to support his sister and be the best he could be for his family. He had been doing so well, he'd even managed to keep Sarah from being burned. But in the end, after pushing it all down, the flames only sprung up higher, deadlier, angrier. He made both his sisters cry, almost killed a guy he was starting to see as a friend, and deeply disturbed his mother before he could realize what he had done. In attempt to not burn the people he was trying to love, he ended up charring them.
Was Sarah the fuel to his fire, or was she the fire blanket? He couldn't tell. But he knew that he was bound to hurt her next. That's why he was sat unmoving at his desk for hours, staring at the blood under his fingernails and trying to find a word to tell anybody he was sorry; figure out how to push Sarah away.
"Christopher... I don't even know what to say." Donna begins. "I'm hearing this is the second time you've tried to kill your sister's boyfriend? Needless to say you're grounded until you're an adult — no after school workouts, just school, work, you're home. You take care of Crystal, but let Charlie do what he needs to do. And stay out of Carrie's business too while you're at it."
"...Is she okay?"
Chris had tuned out most of what his mother had said, knowing the outcome before she'd even said it. All he cared to know was if Crystal was alright, if she would see him and forgive him.
"Crystal's fine... shaken. She's sleeping it off. I would say go talk to her, but I don't think she'd even want to look at you."
Chris doesn't say another word. Donna leaves him in the quiet, and he just gets into bed, staring at the wall for hours until he manages to fall asleep.
At the end of the day, he always hurts those he loves.
❛ ━━･❪ ♖ ❫ ･━━ ❜
riles' atlantis research log
5840 words
i'm sorry this is long i promise i edited it down
but imagine charlie realizing his feelings and running through the streets of minneapolis in a montage with can't fight this feeling in the background. it makes it so much better.
sarah and chris <3
holy fuck the fight though.
slay donna for parenting. and supporting charlie like he deserves.
thank you so much for reading! comments and votes motivate me a lot so i really appreciate them :)