It popped in my head a while ago and wouldn't leave me alone. I know it doesn't follow the exact plot as the episode did, but I figured it didn't really need to. I haven't seen too many Grams-centered stories, so I wanted to add one. Happy reading!

I own absolutely nothing from "Charmed" other than this plot and any unfamiliar characters. Those rights go to Brad Kern.

"Following the Five"

By marissa-christina

"Oh, no…"

Fingers turning white as she clutched the phone to her ear, Penelope Halliwell couldn't really comprehend anything more as the officer slowly explained the situation to her. Leaning heavily against the counter as a wave of dizziness overtook her, Penny swallowed hard.

"I'm very sorry, Ms. Halliwell…but if you could possibly bring yourself down to the morgue…to identify the body…"

Penny cleared her throat while bringing a shaking hand up to cover her eyes. "Yes. I'll be right there." It took everything she had to keep her voice from trembling, to keep herself from exposing the pain that had suddenly exploded within her.

'It might not be true…no need to fall apart…it could be someone else…'

What the officer said next was lost to her, and once the dial tone rang clear, Penny didn't waste any time before she punched in her friend, Gail's, number. Making extremely short conversation, Penny asked Gail to watch the girls and when she agreed, Penny abruptly ended the call.

After she had hung up the phone, Penny began to vigorously shake her head as she made her way out of the kitchen and hurried into the living room. The sounds of her granddaughters' laughter met her ears and Penny felt as though something had just clamped itself around her heart, sending a sinking feeling shooting into her stomach. Steeling herself, she strode into the room and plastered on a smile as Prue and Piper looked up at her.

Prue giggled and lifted a small hand in greeting. "Hi, Grams."

Penny forced out a chuckle as she squatted down, completely lady-like of course, and kissed both of her granddaughters' foreheads. "Hello, sweetheart. Are you guys having fun?"

Piper cut in. "Yep. Mommy said if we were good today then she'd take us out for ice cream after dinner!" she chimed in helpfully as she continued to braid her doll's hair. Prue shot her a dirty look and nudged her with her elbow.

"You weren't supposed to say anything! Mommy said it was a secret!" she hissed, missing Penny's sharp intake of breath as she reprimanded her sister for letting her tongue slip. Piper's eyes widened and she clapped her hands over her mouth.

Biting down on her lip, Penny You know what?" she said. "I didn't hear a thing. What were you saying about a secret?" It was better to play dumb and let the girls carry on normally. She couldn't let them see that she was fighting an internal battle. She couldn't let them think anything was wrong. So, she smiled again and patted both of their heads. "Now, listen. I need to go out for a little while and I've asked your Aunt Gail to come over to watch you three."

Eyes lighting up, Piper grinned. "Yay!" she exclaimed, tossing her doll aside. "That means we can bake brownies!"

Prue, however, looked somewhat troubled. "Okay," she said, looking at her grandmother with a tiny frown. "Where're you going?"

Penny sighed inaudibly. "I just have to go see someone. It shouldn't take long. But, until I return…" she trailed off and shot Prue a meaningful glance. "You try to keep your sisters out of trouble, okay?" She pointed over to the sofa, where two-and-a-half year old Phoebe was sleeping, her fingers still holding the remote control.

"Okay, Grams."

She leant down and pressed a kiss to Prue's temple. "Good girl." She could hear Gail's car pull into the driveway. Standing, she headed into the foyer and opened the front door. Gail stepped inside, her features tight with concern as she clutched her purse.

"Is everything all right, Penny? You sounded upset over the phone…"

Waving a hand dismissively, Penny grabbed her jacket from the closet and stuffed her keys into a pocket. "I don't have time to explain…just keep an eye on them," she muttered, motioning towards the living room. Gail nodded in affirmation as Penny all but sprinted out the door.

Walking down the pristine white hallway felt like she was on her way down to meet the Source, himself. Her flat heels and the burly officer's shiny black shoes clicked over the linoleum floor, the sounds of their footsteps reverberating off the equally white walls as they neared the double swinging doors, which the officer (she'd never gotten his name) held open for her. Penny took a deep breath through her nose and, gathering her nerve, stepped in.

The room smelt overly clean, she quickly surmised as she glanced around. The tang of anti-septic hung heavy in the air, but not even it could suppress the next obvious scent that reached Penny's nose; the decay. She gasped softly as the impact of where she truly was finally struck her.

On the wall opposite of where she stood there was rows and rows of what looked like filing cabinets. Upon closer inspection, she saw numbers and names written on the fronts of them. People were in those drawers…dead people…

"Mrs. Halliwell?"

She quickly turned. The man behind her was short, round, and balding, and was wearing a blue lab coat. In his gloved hands he held a clipboard. "Yes," Penny said, finding her voice.

"I'm Dominic Lancaster, Chief Medical Examiner," he clarified with a kind smile and an outstretched hand. Penny shook it stiffly. Dr. Lancaster flipped through the pages on his clipboard. "You're here to identify the body that was found at the camp." It was a statement, not a question. Penny nodded. "All right, this way, please."

She followed him despondently as he strode over to a curtained off part of the room, and her heart thudded painfully in her chest as he stood over the head of the metal table. Her eyes settled on the form covered in a white sheet that lay atop of it. Dr. Lancaster stared at her for a moment before he slowly pulled the sheet up, exposing the tranquil face that lie beneath it to the visibly trembling woman.

Penny's strangled sob cut through the air as she reached forward, her fingertips mere centimeters from touching her daughter's pale cheeks. This wasn't real…she was not seeing this…

Her daughter couldn't be dead…there had to be some mistake…

The remorseful look in the coroner's eyes told her differently. Penny didn't bother to hold back her tears as she gently stroked Patty's face with lead fingers. Her daughter's dark hair was plastered against her forehead, the residual water collecting underneath her head and forming a small puddle at the base of her neck.

"H-How…?" she managed to choke out.

"Asphyxiation caused by drowning," he replied. "She must have fallen in. They found her on the deck, so she must have pulled herself out before she succumbed to the water in the lungs."

Penny Halliwell knew that wasn't true. Patty had known how to swim.

"I'm incredibly sorry for your loss, Mrs. Halliwell. You can make arrangements for the removal of her body to a funeral home at the registry up front. Ask for Linda. She'll take care of it," Dr. Lancaster added as he pulled the sheet back over Patty.

Later on, she couldn't remember how she made it out of there, nor the drive home. The last thing Penny recalled from her trip to the morgue was looking at her daughter's face, her dead daughter's face.

And now, she was looking at three other faces, all three pairs of cheeks streaked with tears as she told them what happened to Mommy and why she wouldn't be home for dinner like she had promised. Why the ice cream date that they had looked forward to all day wasn't going to happen.

Piper started bawling first, followed by Phoebe and lastly, Prue. Penny pulled the girls into her arms and the four of them clung to each other, each overtaken by their own grief.

When the girls had cried themselves to sleep hours later, Penny put them to bed and silently made her way to the locked door at the far end of the upstairs hallway. Digging through the pockets of her dressing robe, she pulled out a small skeleton key. Placing it in the lock, she twisted it until she heard a soft click. The old door creaked as it opened, revealing the room she so desperately needed to reach. Penny dropped the key back into her pocket as she stepped over the threshold and into the attic.

She waited until she had sank into the cushions of Pearl's old couch before she started sobbing. This couldn't be happening…

"It'll be fine, Mom. I already have a plan."

"Are you sure? I can go with you. It might be safer."

Patty laughed and shook her head. "Someone needs to stay and watch the girls. Besides, it's only a Water demon. Easy vanquish."

"Still…"

"Listen, Mom," she said, grasping Penny's hands in her own. "Those kids are in danger and we have the means to stop it. I can't just do nothing." Penny sighed heavily.

"All right. Just be careful."

Patty smiled and kissed her mother's cheek. "Aren't I always?"

"No…" Penny rasped, burying her face in her hands. "This time, you weren't." The denial was fading away now, and the hard truth was taking a stand.

Patty was dead.

Her daughter was dead.

She had lost her daughter. Her granddaughters had lost their mother. The world had lost a warrior in its fight against evil. Everything had changed.

Penny clenched her teeth and curled her hands into fists. She was a witch, damn it! She was Penelope Johnson Halliwell, a descendent of Melinda Warren! There had to be a way to reverse this!

So, she spent the next two hours searching through the ancient Book of Shadows like a woman gone mad and by the first break of dawn her fingers were oozing blood from numerous cuts she had inflicted upon herself, her eyes bloodshot and her face pale. And she was defeated. Not even magic could change this.

That's when she felt it…felt the hot, bubbly surge of anger rise from within her. She hadn't experienced rage like that since Allen's death…since she'd become notorious for her demon-slaying skills.

The first stage had passed. And now, Penny was on to stage two.

To give a quick explanation to the stages with Grams, they refer to Kübler-Ross model, which emphasizes the Five Stages of Grief. Denial is labeled as the first and Anger as the second. Now, I don't know if I agree with the model, but I found it interesting and decided to implicate it into this story. If you want to know more, check out Wikipedia. Wonderfully nifty site, that is. Hopefully now the title makes sense.