Disclaimer: I do not own Charmed, or any of the characters.

Chapter 1

When Phoebe was two years old, her mother died.

It was one of those facts that she did not understand at the time. Grams told her; Prue told her; even Andy told her.

But Phoebe did not understand.

She did not know why Piper cried night after night; and she did not know why Grams kept telling Prue that she should cry.

Phoebe did know that she wanted Mommy to say good night. Patty always sang to Phoebe after she had her in her crib. She would place her blanket just right and stroke her hair. Sometimes, Phoebe did not want to go to bed. She would sit up and glare—or shout.

Patty always stayed until Phoebe lay down again.

Now—well, now, Phoebe did not understand why Mommy never put her to bed anymore. It made her nervous; it hurt her feelings; it made her wonder, in the vague way that babies wonder, if she should not have shouted on so many nights.

So Phoebe tried to lie down quietly when Grams placed her in her crib each night. She asked for Mommy and hoped that Grams would bring her into the room.

But Grams never did.

So Phoebe cried like Piper did.

One night, she cried long after Grams had given up on quieting her.

Penny Halliwell did not back down from demons or granddaughters—but even she could not hold the line all the time.

So, as Phoebe continued to cry, Penny did not leave the room; she knew that Patty would not have done so. But, she sat in the rocking chair and let her head fall back as her youngest granddaughter's cries filled the room.

She would get up soon and she would pick Phoebe up and soothe her; she would hush her patiently; and she would whisper to her; and do all the things that grandmothers know how to do.

But right now—right now, she was a mother who had lost a daughter and a grandmother who could not get along with her granddaughters' father and a woman in her sixties living with three girls under the age of seven.

Right now, Phoebe had been crying for an hour and Penny felt horrible that she did not know what to do.

Right now, Penny was still holding the line; but she was being beaten.

"Grams?" It was Prue at the doorway. Penny mustered a smile for her oldest granddaughter.

"What is it, sweetheart?" she asked (half shouting) over Phoebe's continued indignant cries.

"You don't put the blanket right," Prue said.

Penny was taken back as Prue entered the room cautiously. The child's hair was not messy and her outfit was clean and well-chosen; somehow Penny was making sure of that each day. It had become close to a religion for her.

Patty had always brushed her daughters' hair and chosen their outfits. Penny had told her that it would stifle their independence and limit the girls' trust in their own choices; but Patty always laughed at her.

Now, Penny brushed Prue's hair each morning before doing the same for Piper. She picked their outfits and tried to speak lightly in the face of Prue's stoic set lip and Piper's trembling one. She made breakfast for them each morning too—just like she had done throughout Patty's childhood—just like Patty had done for her dolls until she was eight.

Grams had been choosing red bows this week for Prue.

It was Patty's favorite color when she was a child. Victor thought her favorite color was turquoise—and that was true—but only since she was thirteen.

Prue's red bow was perfectly placed in her hair. Her outfit wasn't mussed in the way that it usually was when Patty came home from work.

She was trying to smile at Penny.

"See?" she asked. She was next to the crib now and had taken the blanket off Phoebe.

She shook it—no small feat since it was twice her size—then placed it again on her sister. But, she tucked it under Phoebe's arms as she did so and stroked her hair.

"Mommy always did it like that," she told Penny.

Phoebe appeared to have paused her cries long enough to take in the new state of her bedding.

Then, she hiccupped and started to cry again.

But the cries were quieter now; they were cries that Penny could soothe into sleep. Prue nodded once and hesitated next to the crib. She reached tentatively towards Phoebe's hair again but jerked her hand back before it reached her sister's head.

"The blanket was wrong," she repeated.

Penny nodded mutely. It was time to return to the line.

"Prue," she said, "Thank you."

The oldest Halliwell daughter looked at her feet. Then, she left the room.

…

When Phoebe was two years old, Prue fixed her blanket.