#sam wilder

Author's Note: I acknowledge that this doesn't even fit within my OWN version of canon but I just love the idea of Prue vaguely knowing about Paige her whole life because, let's be real, she was definitely old enough.

Sliding open the door, Prue barely registered Sam’s presence before he spoke, not looking up from his task.

“I knew I should have given you a stronger dose.”

“I thought you would have learned yesterday that stuff doesn’t work on me.”

Sam froze, but still refused to turn around. “I had to protect you and your sisters.”

“From remembering you? From stopping the demon that killed Mom?”

The moment she saw Sam the day before, there was a fogginess in Prue’s mind, something screaming at her that she knew exactly who this man was, and that he was important. When Leo revealed he was Mom’s whitelighter, the logical part of her told her that must have been what she was missing, but… no, there was something else. And then this morning when Leo helped them break through the memory powder…

They loved each other. Prue may have been a carefree, free-spirited seven-year-old before her mom died—the kind of girl she grew to envy as the years continued on—but she was no blind fool. She could remember them together. No matter how hard they tried to hide it. It seemed so obvious now.

“If you truly loved Mom then you know that this isn’t the answer.”

“Isn’t it? I promised her I would protect you and your sisters.”

With Sam finally turning around, Prue tilted her head questioningly, giving him a knowing look. “I know. I also know you promised her you’d never clip your wings—that protecting the innocent was more important.”

“How do you know that?” He snapped, voice sharper than intended.

“I know way more than you think I do.” The fierceness in her eyes only grew, and Sam almost seemed to shrink back under her gaze, recognising what it was she was referencing. So many confusing memories were falling into place for her. Her mom, visibly pregnant, yet Phoebe was already born...

You’re just getting your memories mixed up, Grams would say. It’s Mom, I wouldn’t remember wrong, Prue would always counter. Now she knew she was right. And Sam looked… afraid.

Looking down at the axe in his hands, trying desperately to draw the conversation away from his secret daughter—how could she know? She was a child! —Sam spoke.

“Protecting you girls is more important than any innocent. I knew you’d come, no matter what I did. I couldn’t let it happen to you, too.”

“So you’d sacrifice innocent lives? Is that what Mom would want? The Sam I remember would—”

“Don’t talk to me about the Sam you remember. You weren’t supposed to remember. Besides, that man is long gone. He died the day Patty did.”

“No. No he isn’t. You still have good in you, Sam. I know you want to stop that demon. But you have to help us. Help us avenge Mom’s death and stop it from killing again.”

He turned away, shaking his head. “I can’t let it hurt you. You’re… you’re so much like her. It’d be like failing her all over again.”

As much as Prue wanted to snap back about how she was nothing like her mother—a rude habit of hers, Piper and Phoebe helped her realise—she instead took a breath. “You won’t fail her. Or me. We can kill this thing with your help. Please. If not for me, or for Mom, do it…” she hesitated. “Do it for your daughter.”