Disclaimer: I lay no claim to any of the Charmed characters, quotes, or overt references that may appear in my stories. They are the sole property of Spelling Television. I write for my own satisfaction and for the enjoyment of those who choose to read them.
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There was a wilderness separating the two sisters who stood in the Halliwell foyer that day. A gulf of emotions distancing the closeness of family. A child standing on the brink of womanhood and a woman standing by watching her child leave…

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I know you're gone
I watched you leave
I always thought
That it was me
You made it clear
With that last kiss
You couldn't live a life
With maybe's and whatif's
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Constraint and freedom, fought for supremacy, a fear of not wanting to leave the nest yet still holding the strong desire to soar. Not one to own regrets, she turned her trembling shoulder to her doubts and leaned and kissed her oldest sister goodbye.

Prue watched her leave. Now wondering if her sister used their disagreements as an excuse to follow an unfulfilled dream.

“Was it me, Pheebs?” The door felt oddly cold against her hand as she stared at the distancing cab.

Her kiss was softly harsh, her breath was raggedly sure. Her eyes said she couldn’t keep living a life filled with lack of trust and misdirected anger. Yet those very eyes looked distant, searching, longing to find the something that would fill the emptiness she always felt.

“When the time is right I’ll bring you home, baby girl… Home to stay.”

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When every boat
Has sailed away
And every path
Is marked and paved
When every road
Has had its say
Then I'll be bringing you back
Home to stay
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Phoebe sat in Battery Park the horizon the milieu for distant boats. Ships of dreams that somehow seem just out of reach. Three years and she knew the city like the back of her hand. Time Square on New Year’s Eve, The Hudson River at sunset, Soho in the summer.

Every inch of the metropolis held a unique wonder and excitement, a shallow thrill that was over in New York minute. From Fifth Ave. to 42nd. Street from Manhattan to the Bronx. The over crowded Great White Way always led her straight to the Boulevard of Broken Dreams. She took a bite out of the Big Apple and found it tasted bitter. Three years of things that might have been, cutting a slice of life only to be wounded by what found was missing. In the end Phoebe found that all roads lead to home.

But would she be welcomed? Could she swallow her pride? The water lapped against the buttress as a tugboats baritone horn sounded as tired as she was. Over the city’s din Phoebe swore she heard her sister’s voice…

“Come Home…”

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I have the cards you sent to me
You wrote of trains and New York galleries
This spring you'll draw
Canals, and frescoed walls
Look how far your dreaming's gone
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Prue placed the lid back on the simple box that contained postcards and notes of grand adventures. The script was bold and free in style but pain was written between each heroic line. Words that told of happiness and of self-discovery, held sadness and self-reproach within the margins of each flourished page.

She knew the choice was hard, and guilt harbored in the port of her soul; for she also knew it was she that was keeping her sister from navigating her way back to the family that let her go. She and Phoebe opposite book ends, flanking years of differences and likenesses, variations and similarities. One the hardbound novel the other the paperback. The contents were the same but the covers totally unique. Traditional and contemporary, sitting side by side on the same shelf. An atlas of dichotomy whose roads threaded across the hearts of two sisters. Two sisters who seemed to have lost their way, that in end, must learn that all emotional routes and interstates piloted to home.

Prue looked at the photograph, feeling her sister’s eyes staring back…

“Come home.”

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When every town looks just the same
When every choice gets hard to make
When every map is put away
Then I'll be bringing you back
Home to stay
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Prue inwardly wished she too could have escaped the pain and harshness of their shattered home. She secretly envied Phoebe, for doing what she could not… walking away and not looking back… or did she? Did she regret the going for the pride that drove her away? Is there a happy medium, a meeting in the middle that was overlooked by staying in neutral corners?

“I may not have gone with you then, but I will bring you back now.”

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And now I know why you had to go alone
Isn't there a place between…
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The harbor ferry was but a dot as it crossed the chilly waters; tired corporate executives sitting next to equally tired city employees. Both going home to loving, waiting families. Phoebe turned to go back to an empty Greenwich flat.

The subway wormed its way back to her stop. Delancey-Essex blared through the overhead speaker as the train pulled to a jerky stop. Were the words painted on a graffiti tagged wall distorted by the underground transports shuddering halt or was it perhaps the brackish dampness clouding her view?

She took her time returning to her rented studio. The concrete hard beneath her weary gait. The row of brownstones seeming to shelter her exhausted frame. Phoebe climbed the uneven stairs, pausing at the top, once again thinking she heard her big sisters voice.

“Come home.”

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When every boat
Has sailed away
And every path
Is marked and paved

When every road
Has had its say
Then I'll be bringing you back
Home to stay
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Sure that emotion and lack of sleep was the cause for the invisible cadence, she reached up and grabbed her mail.
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Prue reached out her hand and dropped the letter in the patriotic colored mailbox. Letting the handle pull her correspondence in.
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Phoebe shuffled through the bills and junk mail, the last envelope postmarked San Francisco. She let her left hand drop the remaining bundle while her right index finger slid under the envelope’s flap.
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Prue made her way back to her Buckland office, hoping she had done the right thing. Knowing she had nothing to lose expect her youngest sister.
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Phoebe stood silent as she looked at the two simple words carefully penned and then to the one way ticket bound for Southern California.
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She let her finger trace over the duet of love written in her sisters hand.

Come Home!
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Prue stopped mid stride as she was certain she heard her sister call her name.

Tears ran freely down Phoebe’s cheeks as she suddenly felt the void in her center fill… fill with what was there all the time her sister’s love and acceptance. There it came again. The voice she would never forget.

“Prue?”
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Yes, she was positive she heard it, the strange looks be damned… Prue answered back.

“Phoebe?”
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Both instantly felt the link. A country full of states may have separated them, but their hearts could be no closer.

Phoebe reached her hand west and Prue lifted hers east.

“I’m coming home Prue.”

“I’ll be waiting Pheebs.”

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Reach out to me
Call out my name
And I would bring you back again
Today
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“Welcome Home.”

Finis



Disclaimer: The song Home To Stay/EM> was written by Amy Gillies. I claim no ownership.