Fourteen Weeks After Dean Winchester's Death

"Smalls! Move!" Piper ducked as Garth swung the iron fire poker through the vengeful spirit behind her.

"Shit! Run! Run!" she shouted as they ran down the hallway. Her heart thundered in her chest, and something inside her celebrated as they fled into her Jeep.

She had thought she was getting better. She had felt okay after the cookout, but last week it had hit hard again. Instead of becoming catatonic again, she had called Garth. And bless him, he had come without question.

They were hunting nonstop again, four cases in a week. Garth didn't say a word, but she knew he was worried. But bless him, he just came with her and had her back.

"Do we know where she's buried?" she asked, driving away quickly.

"Cedar Oaks Cemetery. About four miles from here. Shovel in the back?" he asked cheerfully, still breathing hard.

She nodded.

Later, they were digging the grave in shifts, when Garth spoke up. "You should try yoga, Smalls."

She snorted, watching him work. "Yeah, no."

He shrugged as he dug deeper. "Centers the mind." The shovel struck wood. "Paydirt."

xxxxx

Later that night, Piper was sitting on her bed with a bottle of whiskey in her hand. Whiskey made her think of Dean, which hurt, but drinking it made her feel closer to him, which hurt in a better way.

"Smalls, come on," Garth said when he spotted the bottle. "That's not going to help."

"You can't possibly know that for sure."

He sat on the bed next to her, hand on her knee. "Piper, come on. This isn't working. You're going to get yourself killed."

She met his gaze evenly, saying nothing.

His eyes widened. "Smalls, that's crazy! You can't be going on kamikaze missions in some crazy attempt at, what? Dying? Dying so you can get back to Dean?"

"Shut up, Garth."

He ignored the warning in her voice. "Piper, first of all, no way you're going to hell, so get that idea right out of your mind." He saw her fist clench. "Go ahead and hit me if it will make you feel better, but it won't."

She relaxed. "Garth…"

"Second," he ignored her, "What would it do to Bobby if you were gone? If he knew you had killed yourself because of Dean?"

The silence between them drew out to several minutes. Piper held back as long as she could, but god dammit, she just couldn't ignore Garth. "I'm not trying to kill myself. I just…" she thought for a moment, and he let her. "When I'm hunting, when I'm fighting, it doesn't hurt. I just need it to stop hurting, Garth." Her eyes filled with tears, and she dashed them away angrily. "I just need it to stop."

"Well, it's not going to." he said bluntly. Her eyebrows rose, and he shrugged. "It's just not. I never met Dean, but you loved him, and that's enough for me. And if he was good enough for you to love, he was good enough to want more for you. More than this. Come on, Smalls. We can do this together, or you can do it alone, but it's gotta be done." He smiled his crooked smile at her. "What do you say?"

She looked at him for a long time before leaning forward and kissing him on the cheek. "Okay."

xxxxx

Fifteen Weeks After Dean Winchester's Death

"That looks… Disgusting." Bobby said, wincing as he looked at the smoothie Piper had in her hand.

She wrinkled her nose. "It is, but it's supposed to align my chakras, or some stupid shit, so here we are."

Since she had flat-out refused to go to a grief counselor ("Bobby, I would have to lie about everything that happened, what good would that do?"), she was trying more nontraditional methods of handling grief. They weren't working, but it gave her something to do.

Bobby had put his foot down and asked her to stop hunting, at least for a while. Since her conversation with Garth, she agreed. So she had a lot of free time on her hands.

She did end up liking yoga. She used it as an endurance test, and spent a few hours a day in the backyard, headphones in, meditating, moving slowly but with strength. It wasn't helping her emotions, and she would never tell Garth, but it was helping her clear her mind.

She knew that she needed to get out of the rut she was in. Dean wasn't coming back, they had tried everything, so she needed to do something. Something had to give.

She cleared her throat. "Hey, Bobby, I'm going to go out tonight. Just," she interrupted his almost interruption, holding her hands up, "Just to the bar in town. Nothing crazy. Just cabin fever."

He nodded, eyeing her carefully. "Okay, just… Just be careful, Piper."

She pretended to be shocked. "Bobby, careful is my middle name."

His derisive snort was answer enough.

xxxxx

Okay, so I hate this.

Piper was sitting at the bar, listening to the band, and begrudgingly tapping her fingers to the beat. Her enjoyment stopped there. The place was crawling with people, which she had for some reason not foreseen. But she didn't want to go home, because Bobby would look at her with that stupid pitying look, and she was tired as hell of that.

She was interrupted by a voice calling her name incredulously. "Piper?"

She turned and met shockingly blue eyes. Stricken, she wracked her brain for his name, the man she'd been with the night before she had been swept back up into Winchester land.

He knew what she was doing and laughed out loud. "It's Ken, Piper."

She laughed. "Oh, my God, I'm so sorry, Ken, hi!"

They hugged and he pointed. "I have a booth saved over there, and I'm alone tonight. Join me?"

She looked into his eyes and only fought with herself for a moment. "Yeah, yeah, I will."

xxxxx

"Jesus, Piper, I'm so sorry." He looked like he meant it.

She had just told him a very abridged version of what had happened in the last two years. She nodded. "Yeah, it's been really shitty. But one day at a time."

He smiled. "Well, I'm glad you were here tonight." He reached across the table and took her hand, and she let him.

She was fighting an internal battle. Dean wasn't coming back, and she had become kind of addicted to someone sleeping in bed with her. Ken was pretty great, a rockstar in bed, and he was gorgeous to boot. And he looked nervous, which was kind of endearing after dealing with Dean's cocksure way of going through life.

"Piper, I hope I'm not being too forward, but, um…" He took a deep breath and laughed at himself. "Jesus, I feel like a high schooler again. Would you do me the honor of coming home with me?"

She looked into his blue eyes for a long time, and came to a decision.

xxxxx

She got home okay, stumbling through the door to sit at the kitchen table and rest her head on it. She turned to rest on her cheek as the light came on and Bobby came in. "Piper? Is everything okay?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yeah, it is."

He frowned. "What happened?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. A really nice guy that I knew from a while ago asked me out, I turned him down, then I came home."

He sat down across from her, looking uncomfortable. Piper was just drunk enough to enjoy his discomfort. Bobby didn't like these kinds of conversations.

"Why, uh… Dammit. Why didn't you go out with him?" He asked in a rush.

She shrugged. "I can't yet, Bobby." She thought for a moment. "Not yet, but I think maybe someday I will be able to. And that's pretty freaking big progress, so I don't want to hear it, okay?"

He nodded. "Okay, then. Go to bed, Piper, it's late."

xxxxx

She was in her bedroom with her laptop, looking through news websites, looking for a case. She thought she might go on her own, and just get back to it for a while. This healing at home crap was kind of for the birds.

She must have fallen asleep, because she woke up again in that damn white bedroom. "You have got to be kidding me."

The trickster grinned, standing at the end of the bed. "Miss me?"

She glared at him. "Can't you just come to me? Or call me, if you feel an overwhelming urge to talk to me? This is getting old."

He shook his head. "Nope. Now, listen, I know you're looking for a case. Don't."

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh, I love it when men tell me what to do. I'll jump right on that."

He groaned. "Piper, just… Hear me out. Give it a week. One week, starting tomorrow, and just stay with the old man at home. Please."

He had never asked nicely for something. She frowned, searching his face. "I know you from somewhere, don't I?" she asked softly.

"Doesn't matter, precious. Please, give it one week." He looked earnestly at her.

She groaned and flopped her head back. "Fine."

He was silent, so she lifted her head to see what he was doing. She had enough time to start to frown before his two fingers touched her forehead and she fell into darkness again.

xxxxx

She sat up in bed, infuriated. "God dammit," she muttered, wiping her eyes. It was already morning, and she felt no ill effects from drinking last night. Which was unusual, but she wasn't looking any gift horses in the mouth.

"One week," she said wonderingly to herself. "He wants me to stay here for one week."

And even though it irritated her the whole next six days, she did. For the next six days, she cooked, sent cases to other hunters, helped Garth on research, and meditated.

And on the seventh, she couldn't have left even if she wanted to.

xxxxx

Hi everyone! Here's my notes:

I own only Piper Finley, the original character. I don't own Supernatural or the characters. (heartbroken)

Reviews and comments give me the warm fuzzies and keep me going.

If there are any mistakes in continuity, canon, or geography, blame me.