I'm a terrible person! I've made you wait almost three weeks now! But here it is, freshly done and I think you'll like it a lot! It might be a tearjerker…

"Patricia Halliwell! If you don't get down here in five seconds, I'm leaving without you!"

Paige had called Pattie five times. In fact, she'd been standing at the bottom of the stairs for at least fifteen minutes now waiting for Pattie to appear at the top because not only she had missed the bus, but she hadn't even opened the door to her room that morning. Figuring her niece would realize her mistake and make some effort to hurry, she shooed both Piper and Phoebe out the door to be sure they'd be on time to work.

Now, Paige was sincerely regretting it. Moaning as she pressed her palm to her forehead and trying to mull over her options, Paige decided she could wait ten more minutes and have both she and Pattie be even later, or sort the problem out head-on. She was still new to the whole aunt thing, but what problems could an eight-year-old possibly have?

A headache was already blossoming in the back of her head as Paige climbed the staircase and wandered down the upstairs hallway, stopping at Pattie's door and lingering a moment before she knocked. "Pattie?"

When there was no response and Paige had become increasingly worried, she gently pushed open the door to Pattie's bedroom and glanced around, surveying the room. It almost seemed that her niece was nowhere to be found until Paige noticed the bulge amid a pile of stuffed animals on the unmade bed; there was a tiny form curled up beneath the blankets. "Patricia," she scolded, walking towards the bed. Piper and Phoebe had told her this instilled some sort of incentive for Pattie to listen, but so far it'd done nothing. "Pattie, you missed the bus and I'll drive you to school but you have to get—" Paige froze when, as she was skimming the blankets for Pattie, felt the burning skin as she grazed the girl's forehead. "Oh, honey, why didn't you tell us you had a fever?"

Pattie was twisted into the fetal position clutching 'Waggles' the stuffed puppy and her baby blanket close to her chest and shivering. Paige reached out to run her fingers through Pattie's hair soaked with sweat.

"Go away," Pattie mumbled, delirious from the fever as she half-consciously waved her arms, slapping Paige back and then erupting into a fit of coughs. Paige knew why, this was the first time she'd been sick without Prue to take care of her, the sensation of loss was just adding to her misery. She and Paige had already been treading dangerous waters with Pattie's reluctance to accept her as family; the illness would make things worse.

Sighing, Paige rose and withdrew from the room, only to return a few minutes later with a bottle of Tylenol Cold medicine for fever reduction and any other flu-like symptoms. When she measured the correct amount for one dose and tried to hand it to Pattie, the persistent child shoved it back at her so furiously the red goo almost spilled everywhere. "No!" Pattie screeched, thrashing on the bed and obscuring her face underneath the fuzzy comforter. "That's not how mommy does it!" she whined, confirming Paige's prior theory. Then, a minute later, "I want mommy!"

A light bulb went off in her head.

Quickly, Paige left again, heading downstairs to the freezer, her bedroom, and then returning and plopping down on the mattress beside Pattie. "All right missy," she began with a hint of bribery, "let's make a deal here." She dropped the two movies 'The Little Mermaid' and 'The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh' and watched as Pattie's head peeked out curiously and then her eyes lit up.

Paige revealed the carton of cookie dough ice cream from behind her back. It'd been hidden in the back of the freezer, her own secret stash. At this, Pattie even smiled. "How'd you know they were my favorites?"

"Because they were mine too when I was your age," Paige replied simply, beaming back at her niece. "Sometimes the movies still are, especially when I'm sick. Now, come on Pattie. You help me make you better, we can spend the day together. We'll do some auntie-niece bonding. Sound like a plan?"

She waited for what seemed like hours until Pattie finally grabbed the plastic cup of medicine, grimacing as she gulped it down and then crawled into Paige's arms while her aunt soothed her.

Maybe they did have something in common.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

Pattie rolled over on her bed as she stared at the 6 by 8 inch picture of her and Paige cuddled up on the couch, arms wrapped around each other. She was still in pajamas, the area was cluttered with ice cream and cold medication, and her face was slightly rosy from the virus, but both still had wide grins plastered across their faces.

A knock shook her from her thoughts and Pattie looked up at a door nervously. She hesitated at first, then forced herself to answer, "Come in." Sure enough, her worst fears were true.

Paige entered with a tray carefully gripped in both hands, a warm smile greeting her. "I thought you might be hungry," she offered, setting the tray on Pattie's desk. Edging across her bed to get a glimpse of the meal, Pattie was immediately confused when she saw the noodles drenched in bright yellow cheese.

"Mac and cheese?"

This wasn't a normal lunch. In fact, a common lunch wouldn't even have been delivered to her bedroom without call while she stayed at the Manor; Piper usually had sandwiches prepared or heated up chicken for her to eat. Macaroni and cheese was and had been Pattie's all time favorite food since she'd been a toddler; it was one of the few things she could eat daily and not tire of. But it was one thing Piper never made too much except the rare occasion where she was too exhausted to cook or wasn't home and Pattie had to make her own dinner.

Paige couldn't help but smile at Pattie's comment, but was able to tell her niece was pleased as she immediately scooped up a spoonful and shoved it in her mouth. "Piper and Phoebe went out to buy some supplies for our little family dinner tonight, and I can't make too much else on short notice."

Pattie resisted temptation to roll her eyes at the thought of dinner. Now that her aunts had parted ways and moved into separate homes, they saw much less of each other and tried to get together for at least one family meal a month, especially on special occasions. Pattie wasn't sure how much she cared about the dinners either way, she saw her aunts equally enough. When the time had come to decide where she'd reside, the decision had proved too difficult to make a choice for; she'd grown up with all three of her aunts, she simply wanted to see them all. Billie had come up with the idea, seeing as all three places were within the same town and school district Pattie could switch houses with each season. That way she'd alternate what holidays and other occasions she spent with her aunts each year and Pattie loved the suggestion, immediately going for it. She still saw all three regularly and was always babysitting, heading to one place because the primary family member couldn't pick her up, or just going to hang out, but for the sake of her family she dropped plans for the special occasions where all the Halliwells gathered to eat.

Now, as Pattie thought of them preparing a gourmet meal – to celebrate what, she wondered, the fact that a spell had gone awry and sent her back eight years where she almost made the biggest mistake of her life? – it made her appetite for dinner disappear. "Just thrilling," she moaned, completely uninterested, "family bonding."

"Well," Paige replied, watching Pattie devour the bowl in only a few minutes and then return to her position on her bed, "I thought maybe we could talk."

Talk? Pattie was numb from talking. She was still reeling from the discussion with her aunts that morning and hadn't exactly found a way to confront Paige with everything she was dying to say. Instead, diverting her attention from that subject, she recovered the photo she'd been gazing at and handed it to Paige.

"Do you remember that?" she asked, somewhat quietly.

Paige stared at it for a minute, her face contorting with confusion to where Pattie thought she didn't, but then her eyes sparked with recognition and Pattie knew she definitely did. She watched as Paige studied the detail of the photo, lost in the frozen second of time. Then, without a word, Paige stood and exited the bedroom.

Pattie immediately wondered what she'd done wrong. Had it been something she said? Something she did? But her mind wasn't left to wonder long because Paige came prancing back in, returning to Pattie's desk chair, and pulling out the cookie dough ice cream from behind her back. "You didn't," Pattie giggled.

"Ah, though it may seem that way, yes my darling niece, I did," she returned the happy grin, speaking with a tone of fake wisdom in her voice and Pattie laughed harder. She'd always loved when her aunt used phony voices to kid around with her, but as Pattie reached for the carton, Paige quickly pulled it out of her grasp. "Ah, ah, ah, not so fast," she taunted, "we're going to talk about what happened and then you can have the ice cream."

It sounded as if she were an eight year old child again. Pattie felt like she was being patronized and at the thought of it, turned away from Paige, overcome. "Whatever," she mumbled angrily.

Paige frowned; she'd hoped Pattie would open up as she always did. Bribery may have been childish but it always worked. Well, almost always. "Come on, sweetie. We've always told each other everything right?"

Pattie nodded soberly, searching for something to keep her eyes on rather than Paige. "I guess."

"Well then what happened that made you such a "horrible niece", huh? What do you think you did that was so terrible?" Pattie shook her head miserably, but Paige set the ice cream aside and joined Pattie on the bed. She cuddled Pattie closely in her hold. "I hate to see you like this, sweetheart," Paige informed her.

"You're gonna hate me if I tell you."

"I could never," Paige promised, gently running her fingers up and down Pattie's arm in a comforting way.

"I'm such a screw-up," she grumbled, worming her way out of Paige's clutch and instead hunting for the nearest pillow to hug.

"Don't insult my niece, only I can do that," Paige scolded lightly, an attempt to see Pattie smile.

"Ha ha, I'm cracking up," Pattie muttered without an inch of pleasure. When Paige eyed her with curiosity she just sighed, shrugged and fiddled with her comforter. "You don't want to know yet, trust me."

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't," she was reminded. "Besides, I think I can take it." It was no use; Pattie only began to cry when she even thought about what she needed to tell Paige. She remembered what Piper had basically inscribed into her mind, the pieces of advice that had only alleviated the guilt temporarily. "There is nothing in this world you could do to me that would make me hate you, Pattie," Paige spoke up, spotting another picture in the pile of her and Pattie at her thirteenth birthday party, all smiles. Why did that seem so distant now?

Pattie continued to whimper but Paige didn't make a move to comfort her at the risk of being slapped away. She watched, painfully, as the teenager fell apart. "Oh yeah? What if I told you I almost chose mom over you?"

Right about then, Paige felt her heart skip a beat.

"I warned you," Pattie murmured under her breath, wiping her eyes with the pillowcase and staining it with tears. It was way too late to try to take it back now.

So, she gave in.

Pattie told Paige each miniscule detail of her trip back to 2000, even more so than she'd done with Piper and Phoebe if that were possible. She described the way the fabric on the scarf had felt, the way the darkness of the park felt like it was drowning her. Paige, her mind inundated by Pattie's first sentence, listened along while nodding at the right moments and putting in her own comments here or there. Pattie didn't look at her aunt while she spoke to deflect any emotion transmitted through her eyes. If she didn't feel anything, it'd be easier to get through.

Around her Pattie began to visualize the scenes she was depicting. She closed her eyes and pictured her attic whilst she summoned Patty or the basement as the back of her legs brushed up against the cold cement. Listening for her mother's voice and imagining the comfort of her caress built more sorrow when she finished her explanation and Pattie's eyes fluttered open to remember that she was no longer in 2000.

Paige didn't say anything.

Pattie still hadn't gotten up the courage to face her aunt head on, she felt Paige's eyes bearing into her skin but she couldn't, for the life of her, turn around. "I knew it," Pattie spoke to the silence, "you hate me. I mean I completely understand, what I did was—"

A tap on the shoulder interrupted her and with one deep breath she swung around to face Paige.

She was crying.

It was the kind of tears that were pocketed in the corners of her eyes, not quite ready to show yet, but there were water marks, little meanders down her cheeks that proved she had shed at least a few. Pattie had said it herself before, Paige never cried. "Stop ranting and come here," Paige summoned, but Pattie was unrelenting. If anything, she cowered back further. "Honey, just come here and give me a hug. I won't bite."

Before her paranoia could get the best of her, Pattie's senses allowed her to relinquish herself to Paige. She threw herself into the woman's arms, sobbing apologies into Paige's blouse which was soaked with tears. The moan of her own crying shaded Pattie from whatever her aunt was trying to tell her, but when Pattie picked up two very misplaced words, she snapped back into the conversation.

Paige had just thanked her.

For what? Had they been listening to the same story? "Why would you thank me? Weren't you listening? I was going to give you up for mom! You could have disappeared forever, never known us. Is that what you wanted?"

Paige, in spite of herself, couldn't hide the flowering smile. She touched Pattie's face tenderly, noting her incredulous stare. "Of course not, Pattie. I love you with all my heart," she declared. "You could have done all that. It would have been the easy thing. But the fact that you're sitting here in my arms right now says one thing. You didn't."

Piper's voice played back in her head "Did you go through with it?" And when Pattie shook her head, no, "Well then there you go, no betrayal. Honey, actions speak much louder than words."

"Pattie," Paige's voice broke through the thought bubble. Pattie shifted her gaze up to face her. "Listen to yourself. You're making yourself sick over this. Why are you focusing all the blame on yourself, here?"

"Because!" Pattie protested. "I've known since the day she died that I couldn't bring her back. Yet, I let my disparity break me to the point where I'd convinced myself that not only could I save you, I could save mom. I knew I was making a giant risk at that, and I went ahead with it anyway."

Paige had been a social worker. She'd studied the correct way to deal with guilt harboring itself in children. Trying to fix the information back in her head, Paige searched for the correct answer. "Death and grief make us do crazy things, you know. Our subconscious takes over. I lost my parents too, remember? I know what it's like to spend every day wishing you can have someone back, even if it's not an option."

Pattie shivered a bit. "Yeah."

"And I know that things will be okay. Your mother told me so," Paige replied, matter-of-factly.

Pattie's eyes shot up at her as if she didn't comprehend. Had Paige just said what her ears had heard? "Mom?" Paige nodded. "My mother?" And then, Paige laughed, automatically silencing herself as if she thought that was the wrong move to make. Pattie tried to recreate the words she'd told Prue. Tell her yourself. Had Prue really done just that? "Why have you never told me this before?"

A flash of something simmered in Paige's eyes as the memory burned in her mind. "Because," Paige dictated simply, grabbing the container of ice cream and pulling the cover off. "I wasn't meant to. She told me to wait until something happened that brought you to me."

Wait, Pattie mulled the word over. Yes, that made sense. "And now it has."

"Precisely," Paige handed a spoon to Pattie and dug her own deep into the frozen treat. Pattie followed, watching as the metal glided in between the icy crystals of milk and cream. The ice cream tasted sweet on her tongue, despite the initial bitter cold. "So should I start this story off with 'Once Upon a Time'?" Paige giggled, licking the spoon clean and watching a gentle smile appear on Pattie's face.

"Only if you're going to tell me about how you and Mom visited the land of flowers and pretty butterflies," Pattie mused, illustrating an imagined butterfly with her hands.

"Not so much," Paige returned the smirk. "But where we met, it was beautiful. Hell, it still is."

It was raining; the kind of rain where the raindrops would come down in sheets at first, like a hole had torn a hole from the clouds in the sky and released an ocean of water as it did. Then, gradually, as it created streams in the crevices of the boulders and stones piles one on top of the other in the mountains, would it die down, reducing to a light rainfall before suddenly things would shift gears again, like the clouds would spring another leak.

It'd been a rough day for Paige. At twenty four, she'd had to struggle every bit to make it where she was now. And for what? To be a lousy assistant at a job she often hated and let herself get stepped on a little more each day no matter how hard she worked to engrave her face in her boss's mind.

Okay, so maybe it wasn't that bad, but her day had still sucked majorly.

She'd been trying to raise her position to the status of social worker for a long time now, and while some attempts had brought success, others just threw the endless hours of slaving over a case back in her face. There were those days where like 'Murphy's' luck, everything would go wrong if there was the slightest chance.

Well, today was one of those days.

It'd started off with the case of a little girl, age ten, who'd run away claiming abuse from her mother's boyfriend. The bruises and fragile psyche confirmed her story in Paige's eyes, but the poor child couldn't catch a break. Paige had searched desperately for any available shelters or foster homes but they had each led her to a dead end. Although she'd finally reached one facility, the parent had done all she could to waive her rights as a legal guardian, swearing the man was out of her life, but even Paige could see past the seemingly flawless exterior. Social services had gone in her favor though and Paige had watched as the child kicked and fought, hoping for any escape route but failing miserably, and then suffering a mental breakdown. Wasn't that enough prove she shouldn't go?

Then there was a set of twins who were being placed in separate homes due to the system, a teenage boy caught in the crossfire between a set of feuding parents who fell down the stairs, another little boy orphaned by a house fire who only wanted to get into a good school for his education and three toddlers whose mother was too strung up to take care of them and were now suffering homesickness.

Why was the world so cruel?

She'd been one of the lucky ones, to be adopted by a loving family; it'd been part of what possessed her to go into social work to begin with. But those parents weren't alive to go to tonight, and as there wasn't a man waiting desperately for her because Glen was out of town, she'd come to the one place she'd ever truly loved.

It was a little hideaway at the edge of the Golden Gate Park, amidst the trees and sheltered off from civilization. She'd wandered upon it by chance late in high school and used it as an escape from the pressures of everything. The soft lull of the running water and the chirps of different birds colored the area with serenity. Paige wasn't normally a worshipper of all things nature, but something about the thriving areas of foliage, blossoming around boulders and out of branches just calmed her.

Now that May had finally come and the climate was soaring to remarkably warm temperatures, the shrubbery was growing at a rapid rate. Paige liked that especially, it shielded her more from the outside world. No one knew about this mystical shell of nature.

Or at least she thought no one knew.

"Hey there," she called out, her voice frail and shaking as she'd never been one for dealing with strangers.

The woman jumped, clearly startled and turned to face Paige. "Oh, hi," she mumbled back, only briefly meeting her eyes until she realized who she was staring at, then her eyes dilated so wide Paige could see how crystal blue they really were. She scooted over on the large rock, "Would you like to sit?"

Paige didn't, really. She wanted to scream. She wanted to wade into the small pond from which the river trailed up to her knees because she was already soaking wet and didn't mind facing the numbness.

But something coursing in her veins compelled her to sit beside this stranger as if they were old friends.

The woman had a fierce gaze in her eyes as she scanned Paige from head to toe and Paige speculated over the reason why it might matter what she looked like. They were both drenched by the showers. This woman's long chestnut hair was streaked with water and she peeled it from her back, wringing it uselessly as the droplets dribbled down from the fringed ends of her hair. "The weather's lovely," Paige offered, just to break the silence.

"I like it," the woman replied, a thick coated tone in her voice which Paige couldn't read. She stared to the sky, a few scattered raindrops falling into her eyes and clouding her vision. "Rain means clouds and clouds cover the sun," she began explaining.

Paige took over. "And without the sun you can't see how much time passes."

The woman looked up, surprised. "How'd you know that?" But Paige just shrugged, passing off the shared knowledge that she felt the same way. As if they shared thoughts. Or blood, Prue pondered. "I've never shared that with anyone before," she admitted, still not dropping her defenses completely.

They sat for a few unspoken minutes and Paige considered leaving entirely before it became too awkward, but she was rooted to her spot. And then, a strange thing happened. The woman presented her hand for an introduction, "I'm Prue," she said managing some friendliness despite her mood. "Prue Halliwell."

Halliwell? Like Piper Halliwell who owned the club where she'd partied on more than one occasion? Like Patty Halliwell, the woman who all signs pointed to as her biological mother? Could it really be true?

As if by magic, Prue seemed to read her thoughts. "My sister owns P3, if that's what you're thinking."

"Yes, actually," Paige found herself answering, completely in awe and trying not to show it. "I'm…I'm Paige."

"I know," Prue revealed as they shook hands. Their handshake held an odd feeling of familiarity.

"You know?" now utterly confused, Paige gasped before she could control her nerves.

"I do." Her reply was very calm and stretched out as if it'd been rehearsed so that when she said it she didn't screw up and make a fool of herself or Paige. Bumping into Paige on this night hadn't been planned, she'd expected to see her here the following day, but now was as good as any time. "You see, I made my daughter a promise. I promised her that I would pass on a message so that I could be sure that it was delivered accurately. So that after I'm gone you'll be prepared."

None of this made any sense at all to Paige. Without even being conscious of it, she slid a few inches further away from Prue as if she was a venomous snake ready to bite.

But the poison was already beginning to sink in. The truth. Her real family. Magic.

"I thought I could do this rationally, but I don't think with magic there's ever much of a rational way," Prue rambled to the point where she wasn't sure Paige was steady enough to listen.

"M..magic?" she stuttered, semi-curious but even more fearful.

"I don't have long, Paige. I don't know how long I do have, but I think I put this off long enough. Something in me is realizing that I'm not going to be around soon and I need to fix this mess before it even begins. You need to know this, so listen up, okay?" She had that big sister tone in her voice that Paige had never before heard, being an only child. But something about it snapped Paige back to reality, and trying to remain alert, Paige nodded warily. "We are family, Paige. You and I. You and our sisters. And your time is coming as mine draws to a close. Truth is, I'm going to miss you, Paigey, even though I never got a chance to know you and I'm sorry for that. But your destiny is about to begin and you will be powerful, one of the greatest witches out there now, though that may seem hard to grasp for you. I know this is just bombarding you with information, but I wanted you to be ready so that when they come looking, when our sisters attract you to them, you can accept your place in the family."

She cupped her sister's disbelieved cheek in her hand and began to confess everything to her, "No matter what our sisters say or what they do, just try to remember that you are your own person. Don't go looking for ways to replicate my existence because you aren't supposed to. Our sisters will love you for you, especially your beautiful niece. She needs you, Paige. We all do. I do, too."

Her warming smile didn't last as Paige suddenly pulled away and kicked at the soil, her shoes sinking in the mud. Neither of them realized how much they were immersed by the water.

"How do you feel?" Prue asked, realizing how much that sounded like a psychiatrist after she said it.

"How do I feel?" Paige screeched, causing Prue to cower back temporarily. "You just sat down and told me in less than five minutes that you're my sister and apparently I'm going to have some sort of magical power, like you can predict the future. Do you expect me to believe that?"

With stoic composure, Prue stood and wrapped an arm around her shivering sister who had rose with bitter anger and confusion and was now steaming. She gently nudged her to sit again and they sank down together, although Paige was greatly shaken by the whole confession and wasn't too sure she wasn't to be around Prue.

Prue understandingly brushed a stray curl from Paige's eyes. "No, I don't expect you to believe it," she defended Paige's words and actions. "I mean, why would you? It's completely crazy to even think about, let alone live."

Feeling like her world was spinning; Paige glanced at Prue for a second. "I'm sorry, but I just can't comprehend what you're saying as the truth. Us being sisters, maybe. I mean, we do look alike, I'll give you that."

"We do," Prue agreed.

"But magic? Jeez it's like I'm going back to the Halloween stories I'd hear as a kid of the witches flying around on their broomsticks cackling all day long and casting spells." To Paige, it all sounded ridiculous.

"Well, we have broomsticks but they stay in the closet with the rest of the cleaning appliances. And one of my – our sisters can do a pretty good imitation of a cackling witch, but we do cast spells," she offered, propping a smile on her face in effort to receive one from Paige. Realizing she'd gone too far, Prue quickly backed up. "Paige, you don't have to believe it now if you don't want. But you will, when I'm not here and you're needed. I wish we'd known about you sooner, because trust me we'd have tracked you down had we had the slightest clue we had another sister, but my death will trigger what brings you to our sisters."

As Prue's words continued to sink in, Paige marveled over the fact that Prue was so content with the apparent impending end of her life. It was hard to wrap her mind around that fact that this person, her sister, was sitting right in front of her. And soon, she'd be dead? How could she know this without…no, not magic.

It wasn't that Paige didn't believe there was some realm of possibility. It just seemed that with her track record, anything magical wasn't following her around. Magic was distant, it would never be a part of her.

"So you just know you're going to die and I'll never get to really know you? You just get taken away from everything, no questions asked? That's completely unfair!" Paige whined and she didn't care how childish it sounded.

"Unfair? Of course it is! It sucks," Prue agreed, joining her in self-pity. Then she looked up at her sister. "But what sucks more is that we can't do a damn thing about it except to…accept it sooner or later."

"So I'm just never going to see you again after this?"

"Never say never with Halliwells, magic holds a unique amount of opportunities."

She took Paige in her embrace and Paige didn't fight her whether or not she was really sure this woman was telling her the truth. Prue held her as tight as she could.

"It will all be okay, because I love you, baby sister. That won't ever change," she whispered into Paige's ear. Then, when they separated, she stood and walked the opposite way, leaving Paige in the rain to face her future, without looking back.

Pattie had become so engrossed in the story she was saddened when it stopped, now cuddled into Paige's arms and still downing the ice cream although her stomach was beginning to hurt. "Wow," she whispered quietly, feeling closer to Paige than ever before. "So you really met her, huh?"

"Yep," Paige said back, still lost in her own memory.

"Aunt Piper and Aunt Phoebe know how we feel about being her replacements, I'm sorry I let it slip," she blurted out as she thought of the things Prue had told Paige. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she ruffled Pattie's hair. "I'm not."

"We need to take her advice, don't we?" Pattie inquired, staring up at Paige with teary eyes, looking not a day older than seven or eight. It made Paige want to hug her more. She just nodded. "Well then I need to get one last cry in. I need to talk to her, and tell her some things. And I need you to be there."

Paige didn't have to wait for Pattie to ask, she knew what the request would be. So, setting aside the dishes of melting ice cream, she grabbed a hold of Pattie and disappeared in a shimmering group of orbs.

When they reappeared in the mausoleum, all was still and desolate.

The sun had left only a thin rim of golden glow along the horizon and there wasn't much light for Pattie to use, but once she saw the plaque which sat in front of her mother's burial site, she didn't even need it. Breaking free of Paige, she ran towards the sign and began to slam her fists into it.

"Mom!" she screamed, breaking down. "Mom! I don't know how much longer I can do this! I know I'm supposed to move on but I need you! I don't know how to move on, Mom! God, I just can't!"

Paige couldn't help but notice she resembled Piper from the day she'd been transformed into a fury and her anger had finally submerged. Pattie was facing the peak of her emotions head on, and all Paige could do was watch.

Her feet slipped out from underneath her and Pattie was on her knees, still crying to the heavens above her. "Just send her to me one last time! Please!" But they both knew Prue wasn't coming.

She sobbed so loud that Paige couldn't stand it anymore. Approaching Pattie, she kneeled down and wrapped her arms around Pattie, so distraught and fragile. Pattie didn't even try to worm free or yank away, she just used Paige's shoulder as something to cry into, muffling the sound but not reducing the extent of it.

"I know I was supposed to learn my lesson, but I just need one last time," she tried to explain to Paige, as if to make sense of it in her head. "She's not coming though, she can't. I want to be happy, Aunt Paige. I just need a last bit of salvation. I just want my mother. I want her so bad."

"I know you do, sweetie, I know," she soothed, a steady flow of tears coming from her own eyes now.

"I just want her, just want—" Pattie fell back into Paige's shoulder, her pleas fading out.

"I've got you," she told Pattie, but did not say it was okay, because she'd have been lying. Pattie needed this, she needed to get her cries out now to grow and move on later. "Just let it out, there's no rush."

And she did. Until it became dark and they couldn't see each other's faces anymore and Paige was tired from humming to her a calming tune she'd sung to Chris to get him to sleep. She didn't stop, barely enough to breath, and murmured words of disparity out of context, begging but with no response. Paige knew Pattie was well aware she wasn't going to get Prue. So seven years of cooped up emotions came flooding out. And Pattie didn't stop.

She cried.

--

Hours and hours later after dinner, after meaningless talk with her family, Pattie had remembered. She'd calmed enough, even begun laughing while her family told stories. But when she found herself thinking about her mother, she'd remembered what she'd forgotten.

The surprise Prue had promised her.

It had to be waiting for her in Prue's boxes in the attic. So now, there they were, all of them.

"So what exactly are we looking for?" Paige asked, tossing another antique out of her way as the entire family searched aimlessly through the packed cardboard boxes. They were strewn out in corners and piles all about the attic, each one with some type of label written in large sharpie marker across the sides. Some were old, rotting away, corners chewed away by mice. The once bold strokes of black ink were fading, almost illegible now. Some of the boxes were dated, years moving backwards all the way until the 1920's.

As Pattie sifted through the packages, reading the words scribbled across each one, she could barely believe how many memories they actually held. "Anything of mom's," she confirmed, laughing as she read the child's handwriting, wavy and large, running diagonally down the side. "Aunt Piper, is this your stuff?" she queried, passing it to Piper, who scanned the material with a smile of her own.

"I'm surprised you could even read that," Piper admitted, tossing her head behind her as she started to rip the box open, finding a treasury of school projects and old stuffed animals inside.

"Well," Pattie began, retrieving a box of her own items, labeled 'Pattie's Baby Stuff', "I don't have an Aunt Pepper so I kind of figured." Piper pushed her playfully, reading over the writing again and realizing that, as an eight-year-old, she had mistakenly added an extra P and her I was so looped it looked like an E.

"I guess Leo didn't marry you for your smarts, huh?" Phoebe kidded and everyone laughed, including Wyatt, who was now scouring through a box of his old baby clothes, astonished he'd ever been small enough to fit into them. Leo planted a kiss on Piper's forehead for encouragement, but she was laughing along with everyone else. It seemed so unordinary for this to be going on, basking in the memories without any worry of demon attacks.

Pattie gasped when she noticed the small quilt folded neatly on the bottom of her box, hidden beneath everything else. Every person looked her way, watching as she unhurriedly recovered it from the box, setting it on her lap. The blanket, sewn very carefully from different pieces of fabric had been crafted special for Pattie while Prue was pregnant. It seemed all Prue had done was work on that missing rainbow scarf and blanket.

"That's the one Prue made you, isn't it?" Phoebe asked, already knowing what the answer to her question would be. Pattie unfolded the sides of it, realizing that there was something encased between the fabric. "What's that?" Phoebe asked aloud, but Pattie still didn't answer.

It was a velvet rectangular box which Prue had kept objects of Patty's in. Pattie remembered it clearly because she's adored the box as a child, even though Prue hadn't often allowed her to touch it. There'd be a few occasions though where Pattie had crawled into bed on a late night and cuddled with Prue. They were vulnerable nights for her mother, the anniversary of Patty's death, or her birthday, and she removed the few pictures of scattered dates, a half-used lipstick, a note once left on the refrigerator, a locket. Pattie had saved items of the same variety of Prue's. She lifted open the box in the silent attic and nearly dropped the top out of shock.

Under her breath, she exclaimed in a whisper, "Oh my god."

"Envelopes?" Piper asked curiously, leaning over to catch a glimpse of what Pattie was seeing.

"Letters," Henry corrected her as Chris toddled over to him and sat down in his lap.

"From Mom," Pattie clarified. "Look at these," she spoke more to herself as she shuffled through them, reading the inscriptions on the front of each. "16th birthday, 18th, 21st, high school and college graduations, wedding, first child. It's like she's found a way to put a little bit of herself into the best moments of my life."

Paige grinned a little more, feeling lighter at the pleasant grin on her niece's face. "You always said she was creative, I guess she's just confirming your words there."

"Is there one for you to read now?" Leo asked. Surely Prue wouldn't provide all this and forget the most important occasion, her homecoming to 2008. It'd drive Pattie crazy; her sixteenth birthday was months away.

But Prue came through as always. There were at least 20 letters, but one of them was exactly what she was looking for. Pattie pulled the very first out of the box, closing the top and setting it aside. "When you get home," Pattie read aloud, looking up for the reactions everyone was presenting.

"Well?" Phoebe was just as anxious to hear Prue's words. "Go ahead."

"Yeah," Coop put it, "Read it."

So Pattie did. She ripped into the paper and pulled out a neatly folded letter, taking in Prue's beautiful crisp handwriting. That alone was enough to make her miss her mother.

But from inside, along with the letter, fell a locket and three beautiful snapshots. It had been Prue's locket

Dear Pattie,

If you're reading this right here and now, I assume you must have gotten home safely, which is a blessing in its own. I hope you are surrounded by our family, the people I love and the ones I never got the chance to know. That was the point of this whole mystery surprise, to get you stubborn Halliwells in one room so I could tell you everything I needed to, especially you Pattie.

You've only been gone a few hours now, maybe four or five, and the sun is beginning to set here. I quickly wrote and cast a memory loss spell after you were gone and your poor aunts don't remember a thing about what happened. As far as I can tell, neither does your younger self. I've just settled little you down into bed to take a nap because you're exhausted and I thought it'd be the perfect time to sit down and start writing to you. I got this idea when you told me that you felt I was guiding you from the after life, maybe I can somehow with these.

I know how much you're hurting right now, how much you'd love to blame yourself for this whole mess, but I think magic's got a bigger part to play. It makes us vulnerable, doesn't it? I know, trust me Pattie, I do. But as I'm sure your aunts have already told you, it's time to take that weight off your shoulders. It's time to let yourself move on. Be happy. And don't do it for me or for anyone else, do it for you. You are the greatest thing in my life, and if there's any piece of me that you need to hold on to the most, it's yourself. I'm sure you've harbored an assortment of my old things to protect, but you are my flesh and my blood and you need to protect yourself to, become whole again. Let your family love you, don't worry about your future just focus on the present. You're the next in a long line of Halliwell women and no matter how much of me you may posses, you're still yourself and that's all I'll ever want of you, to remain true to your own personality.

Piper and Aunt Phoebe, it's time to let go. It's time to let yourselves see my daughter and our sister for the wonderful people they are. Be sad, but don't lock away my memory. Share it, with Paige and Pattie and your children, because they need to know about the past. I love you both with everything in my heart.

Paige, it may have slipped from Pattie who you were, but I'm glad I know now. My precious baby sister, I wish could have been given the time to get better acquainted, but it will come some day. So until then I'll be waiting.

I'll never forget the first time they put you in my arms, Patricia. You were so beautiful, staring up at me with those curious eyes, and I wondered how I'd ever been so lucky. I was afraid to raise you, but I didn't have to worry, because you helped to raise me a little bit too, you helped me be strong. I'll never forget the way your little curls bounced when you were a toddler and I'd tie it into pigtails or the smile on your face at your first dance recital. Our memories are very special, so hold on to them so you can tell my grandchildren one day.

I love you, sweetheart. And I'm with you, always.

Love,

Mom

I'm going to leave you with this short and sweet message. There's one chapter left and the epilogue and I'm sad to be parting this story but it's been an awesome ride. I'm hoping to reach 100 reviews with this, can you help me? You guys are awesome!

Megan