A/N: Hey guys, I know I am in the middle of writing two other stories for Secret Circle and Charmed that haven't been finished but when inspiration strikes you need to go with it. I will post a new chapter once a week...I'm thinking Sundays. Please read and review.

Prue flipped the pages of the book looking for the next spell in a long line of ones she had already cast. Her long black hair was pulled back from her face in a messy ponytail, quite unlike her usual put together self. Then again, Phoebe had just joined the ranks of lost loved ones in the war between good and evil. Her once alabaster skin was now ruddy and swollen as the tears she had shed now dried on her face. Prue made no pretenses about wiping them away. The tears would serve to remind her of her goals and her purpose as she gathered the herbs to once again cast her magic.

"Prue," a voice echoed from the bottom of the stairs. Tearing her gaze from the Book of Shadows Prue half expected Phoebe to cross the threshold.

Piper reached the top step and entered the attic, and the fantasy that had played out in her mind for mere seconds came crashing down around her. The eldest Halliwell couldn't bear the weight of all her hopes anymore and her head fell forward into her hands as Piper bent down to embrace her older sister.

"What are you doing," Piper asked her sister while brushing Prue's bangs out of her eyes. "We have cast every spell the Book has. We can't bring her back," Piper unleashed her own batch of tears as her body shook with the painful confession.

Prue pushed herself out of her Piper's arms. "Do you really think that I don't know that," she demanded. Sorrow had stepped aside and now anger was raging in its host. "What are you really trying to say right now?"

"Prue," Piper barely whispered. "I'm not trying to say anything we don't already know. Magic has failed us." She slammed the book shut, and gathered all the strength her voice had. "It's like the book abandoned us and neither of us knows why! It cannot be undone," Piper approached Prue again, who took several steps back from her.

"That's not what you really think. The book didn't abandon us; magic didn't fail us," she began to shout and crushed her hand to her chest. "I failed. That's what you want to say, right? I wasn't strong enough, I wasn't fast enough, I wasn't powerful enough and I let her die," Prue accused her. "That's what you really want to say, right?"

"Prue—" Piper turned as Prue stormed out of the attic, back straight and neck tense. Moving to the altar, she grabbed the Book of Shadows and put it back on its podium and let out a bitter scoff as she looked at the triquetra. Her hand wiped away fresh tears and she sighed.

"Phoebe will never forgive us if we look like crap at her funeral," she said to herself and for a second she felt as if she had stolen the words from someone else's mouth.

Piper crossed the attic and grabbed the door, locking it after her.

The morning of the funeral was chaotic to say the least. Piper was in the kitchen coping the only way she knew; by cooking the food they would serve later when the guests arrived. As she cooked, she thought about how lucky she was that Prue was as responsible as she was.

When the Angle of Death had told Prue that she had been on his list, she had insisted that the three of them sit down with a lawyer and draw up their last will and testaments. It was the only reason why matters of the house and club had been settled so quickly and now the only thing left to do would be to lay Phoebe to rest.

The youngest remaining Halliwell thought about that. Laying Phoebe to rest. Piper hoped that Phoebe was resting in peace with their mother and Grams, but she knew that Phoebe's death would haunt her until the day she died. Thinking back on last night's fight with Prue, Piper wished that she had told Prue what she was really thinking. Prue wasn't the failure; Piper was.

In the battle against Shax, Prue had thrown herself in front of their innocent and had nearly died saving him. Prue had saved his life at the cost of her own. It was Piper who had failed; failed to freeze the innocent before Shax succeeded in throwing him through a window; before she let him throw her through the conservatory wall just like he had Prue.

Piper threw her oven rag down. There would be time later to think of how she had failed as a witch and a sister. Now she had to focus on getting Prue and her father through the funeral without having a complete meltdown herself.

Prue jiggled the knob and was frustrated to find that Piper had locked up the attic. It appeared that Piper's way of dealing with the latest tragedy was to renounce magic altogether but Prue couldn't do that. If she couldn't find a way to save her youngest sister than there was only one other thing she could do to make it up to Phoebe's memory.

Stepping back, Prue motioned her hand as if she was turning a lock and the door flew open. Her hair recently cut just above the shoulder with new side bangs, the put together manor in which Prue's dress portrayed her was in complete contrast to the air of power and fury that seeped from her pores.

Long strides carried her to the podium where she found the Book of Shadows resting. Randomly opening the book, she flipped the pages until she found the summoning spell and began reciting,

"…Be he far or be he near, bring me the demon Belthazor here," her voice commanded.

Cole appeared bloody and bruised and Prue barely reached him in time to cushion his fall. His black robes were ripped to shreds and she could tell that whoever had done this had nearly succeeded in killing him.

"Why am I here," he asked. Prue had never heard him like this before. He was a shell of the man Phoebe had loved and you could hear it in his voice that he was shattered.

"I can't save my sister," Prue told him. "But I can fulfill her last wish. Phoebe went down to the underworld to save you, and she almost succeeded."

"The potion worked," he reminded her. "The Brotherhoods' hold over me was broken."

"Maybe so, but you're far from saved," her face became stern. "The Source has bounty hunters looking for you everywhere and the only reason none have shown up yet is because he thinks he has something to celebrate far more important than you."

"Phoebe's death," he said and knew from the scowl on her face that he was right. He allowed her to pick him up off the floor, and for a minute while he gathered his strength Cole leaned against her and looked down in her eyes. He couldn't help but be reminded of the time they had traveled to another plane to stop a time loop.

"He may have been able to kill her, but I will be damned if I let him kill her love," Prue told him. "And bless Phoebe's heart but she was thinking too small with that potion," she said and moved to the trunk that held their ceremonial tools and took out Melinda Warren's blessing cup.

"I thought that was destroyed when Phoebe destroyed the stripping potion," Cole said surprised.

"Well, apparently someone thought we would be needing it again," she told him. "I found it last night and realized what I have to do. The ingredients are all here, I just need to know that this something that you want."

"You didn't think that this could wait? Phoebe's funeral—"

"Is not for another couple of hours and you deserve to be there to say goodbye, too. I can't take the chance that bounty hunters will show up for you even though we all know you'll be harder to track in a cemetery. I just need to know that this is what you want."

"What will I do after?"

Prue's face smiled for the first time in days, though it was bittersweet. "You can figure that out," and paused a beat, "here."

They locked eyes and Cole nodded. "Okay," he said and Prue gathered everything to begin their work.

Victor stared at the mantle. His daughters had grown up without a father because of him. He had been too weak to fight for them and when he had gathered his strength Phoebe, his baby girl, had been the one to welcome him with open arms.

Where had he been when this was happening? Victor had accepted, although begrudgingly, that his girls had a destiny far greater than what he could ever wrap his mind around. They were in constant danger and where was he?

He picked up a portrait of Phoebe that must have been taken when she was around seven years old. Her smile was so wide that you could see the missing teeth in the front and back of her mouth. That big, toothy grin might be the thing he missed most though Victor would never have a favorite among his daughters; he loved them all in different ways.

Prue would always be his pride and joy, even if he had to work the hardest to have hers. Piper reminded him the most of his ex-wife because of her quite determination and nurturing streak. And Phoebe—Victor put the portrait down as he began to cry in a way that a man should never have to—Phoebe would always be his model of how to love, because she had accepted him into her life without punishing him for how he had ruined hers and her sisters' childhoods.

Feeling a hand rubbing his back, he turned to find Piper lending him the strength he would need to get through this day. Hugging her, he pressed a kiss into her hair. "I'm just glad that I didn't lose you, too," he told her.

"We have to get going," Piper told her father and they began walking to the foyer just in time to see Prue and Cole walking down the staircase.

"What is he doing here," Victor demanded and Prue stood in front of Cole with a protective arm thrown between her late sister's love and their father.

Hollow, her voice suddenly didn't seem like her own, "I summoned him," Prue told them.

"Phoebe died—"

"You have no idea why Phoebe died," she yelled at her father. "You weren't there, although that isn't exactly unusual now is it?"

"Prue," Piper begged, "don't. It's not Dad's fault."

"And it's not Cole's either. Phoebe died because the Source of all Evil killed her. The last thing she wanted was to save Cole and that's what I've done."

Leo came wandering in from the kitchen and stood behind Piper. "What do you mean," he asked.

Prue straightened her back and stood tall. "I gave him the power stripping potion that Phoebe tried to give him before the Brotherhood tainted him. He's human now."

"That makes him an innocent," Leo told Victor and looked at his wife.

"Which means that Phoebe would want us to protect him," she said quietly to her father. "I know this is hard for you, but Cole was the most important person in Phoebe's life. She loved him like you loved Mom. He deserves to be here," Piper gave in.

Victor held back his last tears and bit his lip. "Okay," he said. "Let's go see her off."

They left the manor together and shut the double doors, unaware of the visitor that stood among them.

"It's so different," Phoebe gloried in the afterlife. Turning back to her mother and Grams she asked, "Are we always here or is there more out there?"

"There's more," Patty said and watched her daughter with wonder. She hadn't expected Phoebe's transition to be this easy but the truth was her daughter had always had an inner peace; it was just hidden by the radiance of her personality.

Phoebe continued to wander through the manor, looking at photographs and family antiques. "Is this how you're able to watch over them? You just stay in the manor all of the time?"

"Not all of the time," Grams explained. "Sometimes we visit others we've lost along the way like parents and friends. Still, we all have a vested interest in the Charmed ones," Penny waved at the other ancestors who remained among the manor. Some were sitting and others standing with needlework as they reminisced together.

"I mean, I always knew that you and mom were around but I didn't realize our entire line was here watching over us. Does that mean it's not always one of you turning the pages in the book?"

"We all have our areas of expertise," Patty told her daughter. "And we alternate looking over you girls. It brings them such pride to watch you grow and sorrow to see you fall."

"Is that why they were all there to greet me?"

Grams moved to Phoebe's side. "Don't forget my darling, that we are a strong line of mothers, daughters, sisters and friends. You come from them, and you are their daughter as surely as you are your mother's. In times of need they stood among you, protecting and guiding you without your knowledge until they have the opportunity to be reborn."

"And I can do the same for Piper and Prue?"

"If that is what you wish," Patty told her. "This is your afterlife and you can choose to do with it what you please until the time comes when you can join your sisters again."

"And what will happen to them," she said gazing at the door they just left through. "If they're not Charmed any longer will they be able to keep each other safe?"

Penny and Patricia looked at each other before one of their ancestors stood from her chair and they parted to allow her through.

"My dear Phoebe," Helena said, "you're sisters will fare alright," and took Phoebe's hand to lead her upstairs to the attic. "For unbeknownst to them and unto you, there is another in the Charmed circle who is meant to take your place."

"Another sister," she asked distraught and looked back to her mother who was following them.

"It's true, Phoebe. You have a little sister named Paige," Patty told her and they entered the attic. "It happened after your father left—"

"Sam," she whispered. "But how will they find her? I mean, you must have bound her powers when she was born like you did with us."

Helena led her to the Book of Shadows and suddenly other ancestors appeared in ghostly fashions surrounding her. "With a little help," she told Phoebe and began flipping through the pages.

Paige didn't have the nerve to go up to them at the funeral. The last thing she wanted to do was to add to their grief at a time like this. Still, when she had heard about the gathering at the house it was as if someone was at her shoulder giving her a nudge.

Staring up at the large Victorian Mansion, Paige wondered what it would have been like to grow up here with the sisters. Silly, seeing as she wasn't even sure that they were her even related to her. Still, the past year of observing them at P3 had made it impossible to deny the resemblance to the Halliwell sisters. What would it have been like to grow up here with them as the youngest sister?

"Only Phoebe would know," she told herself and was sad that she would never really get to know the other woman. Circumstances kept tearing them away from each other and Paige knew she shouldn't be here but her curiosity got the better of her.

Paige wanted to see where they had grown up; where her potential biological mother had raised them before she had passed away. Walking in, she basked in the feeling of returning to somewhere precious; as if she belonged here.

She gazed at the china and thought that it must have been in the family for a very long time and traced the floral pattern in it before joining the line to pick up food. It was truly amazing and once she filled her plate Paige walked around admiring family photographs. The one that caught her eye was one in the foyer in an antique frame of Prue, Piper and Phoebe out on the lawn.

They just seem to belong, Paige thought and picked up the frame and touched the glass. They must be heartbroken.

Putting it down, Paige watched as Prue and Piper entered with whom Paige assumed was their father. Our father, she pondered and for the first time it didn't feel right. Her instincts had always led her to believe it was true that they were her sisters but now they were screaming at her and she remembered that their parents had divorced before Patricia Halliwell had died in a very public drowning.

It left questions in her head that she knew would probably never be answered. Who was her father; why had they given me up; do my sisters know about me; why didn't they want me?

Turning away Paige wiped away a tear with her finger before heading up the stairs to find a restroom.

"Prue," wind blew through her hair and Prue turned quickly to see someone heading up the stairs. "Phoebe," she said before leaving the group to follow her sister.

Piper and Leo shared a look and followed her retreating back and Cole and Victor glanced at one another before following their lead.

Paige had only been trying to find the bathroom when she felt wind blowing through her hair and turned to find the source. No one was in the hallway and she was left assuming that there must be a window open somewhere. Certainly, no one had called her name; no one here knew her.

So when she heard someone whisper her name and light suddenly filled the hallway, Paige was compelled to follow it up the stairs even though it occurred to her that she shouldn't know where everything was considering she had never been in the house before.

"Phoebe!"

Paige heard someone calling out Phoebe's name but she was too engrossed in her own weird circumstances to break the connection to her that seemed to be coming from the attic. Jiggling the knob, she was upset to find it locked and turned to return downstairs.

Two steps down she heard the unmistakable sound of a door squeaking open and she stared over her shoulder to see if it had really opened. Shifting her weight to turn back toward the door, Paige entered the attic and followed the beam of light to what appeared to be a podium and opened the old weathered book sitting there.

"Here now the words of the witches…"

"Prue," Piper bit off between clenched teeth. "Where are you going," she managed to catch up and tap her sister on the shoulder.

"I saw her," Prue told her.

"You couldn't have Prue, she's dead!"

Piper and Prue stared at each other for the longest moment of their lives and Piper finally broke down. "Don' you get it? She's gone and she's not coming back, Prue. There's not enough magic in the world to bring Phoebe back."

"I know," Prue said, finally betraying the feelings she had tried to fight back into the darkness. "I know," she whispered again and hugged Piper fiercely. "But there is something at work here and I can feel her here. There must be something she's trying to tell us."

Piper rested her head on Prue's shoulder for a moment before retreating from her sister's embrace. "Okay," she wiped away fresh tears. "To the attic we go," Piper grabbed her hands and they walked up sided by side.

"That door should be locked," Prue said. "I locked it before we left for the funeral."

All of a sudden they felt the ground shake and steadied themselves against the wall, waiting for it to be over before they went any further. Once it was over they jogged the rest of the way to the attic and were shocked to find a stranger standing at the Book of Shadows.

"The Power of Three," Phoebe's voice rang in the air.

Prue and Piper turned to see if Phoebe was there when they heard her again. "Your destiny still awaits."

They turned back to the stranger and Prue pointed at her. "Hi, who are you?"

Paige stepped away from the book. "I'm—I mean," she stammered, "I'm Paige," she said gathering her wits. "Paige Matthews."