A/N: I hope you guys don't find this chapter too confusing, all will be explained as the story progresses.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the unknown characters appearing in later chapters.

San Francisco, 1988.

She watched from behind a tree, waiting for the tears to come. But Ava knew that they wouldn't. With emotions kept under lock and key tears rarely made it to the surface. The early morning sun bathed everything in a warm glow. It would have been beautiful had it not been for the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach reminding her of immediate danger. She watched the tiny figures pour inside the high school, some sat together on the crisp emerald grass laughing heedlessly. Her eyes focussed on one particular figure sitting on a low, red brick wall, carefully scanning the approaching crowd, evidently waiting for someone to arrive. The girl was waiting for her, Ava knew. The other youths gathered in circles discussing weekend plans, movies they wanted to see, music they listen to, blissfully oblivious of the fragile balance that kept another world from spilling into their own, a world of death and demons and fear and bloodshed. She could taste the bitter envy on her tongue.

Seventeen years of watching other peoples happiness, never knowing the luxury of friendship. It was dangerous to get close to people, especially people not quite like us, is what her mother would tell her. Not to be cruel but to simply warn her. It hadn't stopped her yearning for someone to share her secrets with, to acknowledge her presence, someone to teach her how to feel something again. Two weeks ago Ava had found these qualities in an unexpected source, a teenage girl named Prue Halliwell. Being around her was a refreshing change. She didn't believe in witches or demons or monsters under her bed, she was blissfully and expectantly normal. It was Prue sitting on the red brick wall waiting and waiting for Ava to arrive just like any other day.

Dangers had crept up once again, threatening to destroy yet another attempted life she had built for herself. It was time to run again. Soon Prue would realise that her friend was not going to show up on time this morning and attend her classes as normal, go to her locked as she would any other day, discover a folded note inside it written on a crinkled page torn from a notebook, inside revealing just one line:

I'm going away for a while.

Ava.

Following her absence she may think of Ava all the time, worrying, wondering where she is and why she doesn't call. But weeks will pass and she will think of her less and less. Her life will move on to grandeur and maturity until the short time she spent with her is but a blurred memory in a life filled with joy and laughter. At least that's what Ava hoped for her.

She tore her eyes away realising that she had been watching too long, forcing her feet to step away. Leaves rustled in the wind like whispers carried through the air, warning her. The autumn chill has left trees half exposed and what's left of the golden brown foliage clinging to their branches. She felt like those trees; like everything and everyone had been ripped away from her. Her legs lead her away until she's sure she can resist looking back, she could not, would not, risk anybody discovering that there was someone in her life that she cared about.

She was sure she was being watched she just didn't know for how long, if they had seen her with Prue, if today would be the day they would finally kill her. She glanced down at the slice on the back of her wrist dripping crimson down her fingertips. That was the reason she couldn't stay here any longer, or more so the person who had inflicted it on her.

She found herself in wooded area where sweaty people jogged past and infants cooed over ducks floating on a silvery lake, trees encircled the park with leaves of olive green and mahogany. Further past where the asphalt pathway lead was a clearing granting entry to the bordering woodlands, almost like a nature trail except that there was no path leading up to it. If she could sneak between the evergreens it would provide privacy from prying eyes lurking in the shadows, mortal or otherwise.

Reaching the trees she felt eyes on her, she quickened her pace. Something heavy knocked her to the ground with a thud. In a heartbeat she had rolled onto her back only to be met with a shining blade carving reckless slits through the air. The first of which landed on her leg, near her hip, ripping through denim fabric and flesh. She screamed out but knew it would do no good; her attacker wouldn't stop until she was dead.

Clutching a dagger now dripping with her blood, was a boy who looked about as scared as she felt. He was young, too young to be burdened with the task of murder, his hair a dark, sandy blond set in tight curls. He couldn't have been much older than she was, eighteen at the most. For just a moment his dark eyes locked onto hers, a split second of remorse in them. He hesitated briefly before slamming the dagger down for its final blow. A mistake. She swung onto her side and kicked a leg into his abdomen with as much force as her body would allow, ignoring the blistering acidic pain it caused her injured leg. There was no time for pain, no time to struggle to her feet. She started to run.

Her hair swirled behind her in the wind as she regretted not tying back her dusty blonde tresses. All she carried with her was a copper messenger bag with its leather strap slung around her neck and the clothes on her back, practically all she owned. Her body was scattered in cuts and scrapes from their first encounter.

She ignored the dizzying pain and stitch in her side and commanded her body to keep moving. Her attacker, she knew all too well, was one of the henchmen working for the man who had been chasing her for as long as she could remember.

All she knew about him was what her mother had told her: that he wore the face of a man but inside he was a monster, something not of this world. Ava had never heard her refer to him by name, only that it was imperative that he never find either of them. He had never come for them himself, it was always his henchmen that did his dirty work and followed their trail, which made it much more difficult to distinguish trustworthy people.

Her heart was pounding against her ribs from both relentless running and a fear so strong it forbid her from looking back. Squinting against the overbearing sunlight, she focussed on dodging the trees that were blocking her path until a pesky branch, camouflaged by moss and leaves, caught her foot and slammed her forward. Scrambling to hide herself, she crawled beneath a tree and brought her knees to her chest.

She was listening intently for any signs of someone following her. Nothing. Only birds chirping contently high above. She got to her feet, feeling a sense of power rising from within her and with each breath it grew stronger and stronger. Inconvenient as it was, most of what she had learned about her powers was through her own raw experience, travelling alone was more difficult than she had expected which left her with little control over time jumping. She felt a pull forwards, like she was losing her balance and about to fall, her vision blurred and when the haze cleared she realised she was not in a forest anymore.

San Francisco, 2003.

Ava was spat out of the air as quickly as she had been sucked up, and landed onto something hard and cold that left her shoulder stinging. She guessed there would be a rather gruesome bruise to take care of later. Her muscles ached, dried blood settled on her clothes from her wounds. The back of her throat burned from running as she rested her hands against her knees to steady herself and catch her breath. It was then that she realised she was somewhere urban, an alleyway; traffic could be heard not far from where she stood. She had landed on the concrete ground which now bore smears of her blood on the spot she had fallen.

Limping forward to get a closer look at the era she had just landed in, she watched passersby from a distance. The world was fast paced and bright, a land of steel and concrete with blinking traffic lights and blaring luminescent signs. It still wasn't a world she was adjusted to, despite its similarity to 1988, a part of her longed for the simplicity of dresses that modestly cloaked her skin and secretly reading books by candlelight in the night. Denim had remained a staple item of clothing and too her relief there was much less neon. Vehicles were bigger and better while cell phones were compact and mobile, the world didn't seem to have changed all that drastically. Not on the surface at least.

Clutching her injured shoulder, Ava stepped out onto the sidewalk hoping she wouldn't attract too much unwanted attention. A few pedestrians glared at the girl who looked like she had just fought a truck and lost, but she kept her eyes down and her feet moving, looking up every so often for signs as to where or when she was. On the street corner, there was a newsstand with stacks of glossy magazines and gossip tabloids on shelves while newspapers were stuffed into a rack. She reached for one, The Bay Mirror, recognising it as the local San Francisco paper. It wasn't often she ended up in the same place after time jumping. Like lightening striking twice, rare but not impossible. She frantically searched for the black printed date in the corner, October 5th 2003. Fifteen years, she could manage fifteen years. When she first travelled alone she often jumped further ahead than intended and catching up with a new way of life proved difficult. Allowing her eyes to wander over the front page, an advertisement caught her eye.

Ask Phoebe, she has all the answers. Phoebe Halliwell replies to your letters on page 13.

Halliwell. There could have been dozens of Halliwell's in the city but it seemed like too much of a coincidence, a distant relative perhaps, a cousin, a sister. A memory clicked into place. Prue had a sister, in fact she had two. She had met them once briefly, remembering that they, like their sister, shared names beginning with P.

She thought of the moment left behind in 1988, her attacker in the woods, Prue left waiting. She hoped that he hadn't discovered her connection to Prue, that he hadn't harmed her. It made her chest hurt to think that Prue's life had been taken from her so soon. No, she needed reassurance, if only a quick glance to see her enjoying life. After all, there was no harm in just looking, just to answer the questions plaguing her thoughts. She needed to find out what had happened to Prue all those years ago. Her stinging wounds could wait.

She vaguely remembered the house's address. Preston? No, Prescott Street. She began walking, it wasn't far from here. She soon realised it was in fact far from there and by the time she had reached the street filled with Victorian houses, she wanted nothing more than to collapse and rest her aching bones.

She remembered the house's red exterior and stained glass windows, nothing much had changed in the last fifteen years. She climbed the concrete steps, hesitating in front of the door, took a deep breath and pressed her finger to the door bell.

The doorbell chimed and she could hear footsteps growing closer and closer. Her heart fluttered inside her chest, she was more nervous than she thought. The door swung open with a gentle creak, revealing a brunette with hair swishing against her waist, almost as long as Ava's, frowning slightly at the bruised stranger standing before her. "Can I help you?" she enquired, her voice soft.

"Is this the Halliwell residence?" Ava's voice was raspy, her throat dry.

The brunette tilted her head, "Yes, it is. Do I know you?" Ava glanced down at her feet, not sure where to look. "I was looking for someone...someone who used to live here. Maybe she-Her name is Prue. Prue Halliwell."

The brunette's face dropped, her eyes filled with sorrow. "Oh, I'm sorry. Prue...passed away."

There was a lump in Ava's throat she couldn't quite swallow, "When?" she choked out.

"Two years ago." An infant's sobbing cries came from within the house. The brunette shouted over her shoulder, "Wyatt honey, Mommy's coming!" When she turned back to the stranger on her doorstep, she was gone.

Ava was running, her lungs burning inside her chest, her heart hammering against her ribs. It was a mistake coming back to find Prue, her efforts to protect her all those years ago had worked but she hadn't considered her death occurring in the prime of her life.

After settling her infant son, Piper clutched a baby monitor as she made her way downstairs, listening for any sounds of her child stirring in his sleep. Chris leaned against the wall, "Who was at the door?" he asked. His charge narrowed her eyes for a moment, like she was trying to recall a memory. "Nobody important." She replied. Although she wasn't sure she believed her own words. It wouldn't be the first time an innocent had arrived on her doorstep searching for the help of the infamous Charmed Ones.

There was something off about this girl; Piper wondered how she knew Prue. Chris walked away, satisfied with her answer, but she still felt like there was something she was missing. There was something about her that was so familiar.