A/N: Decided to break up the ending...so there will be one more chapter after this one.

Alex goes out to get boxes, but Piper stays behind in the apartment. She has no intention of leaving until Alex is really gone, like some ship captain, waiting to drown. So she stays, and she helps pack up the apartment, never mind that it feels like she's willingly blowing her heart to smithereens.

Alex is distant and withdrawn; she doesn't seem angry, but somehow the bare minimum of politeness she's giving is worse.

Piper stays in the kitchen, washing dishes and silverware and wrapping them in packing paper before stacking them in boxes to be taken to Goodwill. She leaves the postcards on the fridge.

Alex stays in the bedroom, and Piper leaves her alone for most of the morning, until lunchtime, when she finds her in the closet, crying into a stack of Diane's work uniforms.

"Alex?"

Piper reaches for her, but Alex shrugs away, lifting her face and holding up her hand. There's a smear of blood across the pad of her thumb. "I cut it on...on the nametag." It takes Piper a second to figure out what she means, but then she sees the red plastic rectangle with DIANE emblazoned on it, still stuck to a Wal Mart vest.

"Oh..."

"I don't know why the fuck she kept all these..."

"Do you...need any help?"

Alex is still crying, but there seems to be some sort of implicit order to pretend that she isn't. "You can go knock on the neighbor's doors, see if anyone wants a couch. And a coffee table. Fuck, offer the TV and computer, too, I don't care..."

"Okay," Piper agrees helplessly, but she doesn't make a move to go, just watches as Alex starts to painstakingly remove every name tag before tossing the shirts into a garbage bag. Finally, delicately, she tries, "Alex. Don't you think...this is maybe too soon?"

"What is?" She says it like Piper's question was stupid, like she has no idea what she could possibly mean.

"She just died, Al. You don't have to do this now."

Alex grimaces, already turning away. "I'm leaving in two days."

"So keep the apartment for a few months. The rent's nothing to you, Al, and that way you don't have to deal with getting rid of half your mom's stuff the day after her funeral. Not to mention, you know, emptying out your childhood home."

"I told you," Alex's voice is dangerously quiet. "I don't care about this fucking apartment. I'm not keeping it, and I'm not coming back here."

Piper's chest constricts; the apartment has always been their home base, the one place they always come back to. Before Piper graduated, when Alex was traveling on her own, Diane's apartment had always been the thing that tethered her, kept her coming back home.

Now Alex is leaving with nowhere to come back to.

Feeble and pathetic, Piper tries, "Where are you going to keep all your stuff?"

"I'll rent a storage locker for Mom's records. Most everything else I can trash." Alex's voice comes out dismissive and flippant, but it's completely undermined by how carefully she's carefully stacking up a dozen pins with her mom's name.

Piper closes her eyes, hating this, sick at the thought of it.

This is what she's realizing: when Alex leaves this time, there will be nothing left tying them together. Not their hometown. Not Diane.

"Where do you think you'll go?" Alex asks suddenly, addressing the inside of the closet. Piper wonders if she's been following a similar train of thought.

"I don't know." She feels oddly embarrassed by her lack of plan; Piper knows she needs to figure out what she wants - other than Alex - but she doesn't feel any closer to knowing than she did her senior year of college. "Maybe New York...Polly's got a place in Brooklyn, working at some clothing store..."

Alex doesn't reply to that, just stuffs more clothes into the trash bag; one shirt, a Zeppelin one Piper remembers Diane wearing a lot around the apartment in the mornings, Alex throws into a small pile on the bed. She glances at Piper, still standing there uselessly. "Seriously, do you mind asking the neighbors about the stuff? I kind want to clear out the living room."

The crisp, focused demeanor is throwing her off, but finally Piper manages, "Yeah, I'll go door to door. But...are you sure about the TV and computer? They're pretty new."

"You can have them if you want," she says dispassionately. "But if not, yeah, try to give them away."

So that evening the two of them end up maneuvering the couch out of the apartment and two doors down, giving it to the second family Piper offered it to. Alex goes back to grab the coffee table, while Piper leans on the rail outside the apartment, wondering how Alex can just hand everything over so easily.

It's maybe dumb to be sentimental about a piece of furniture, but Piper's still feeling the effects of the funeral, and it makes everything feel wrought with poignancy and significance: she's hung up on the couch, how Diane slept there for at least ten years, just so Alex could have a bed and a bedroom.

Alex comes out of the apartment, dragging the coffee table, looking sweaty and frazzled. "Don't help or anything, Piper."

"Sorry." She grabs the other end of the table; even from opposite ends of the table, facing each other, Alex won't really look at her.

Piper puts the TV in the trunk of her car to give to Cal for his apartment at college; Alex rolls the computer down the hall to give to some other random neighbor.

"Did you need to save any files?"

"She's only had it for like a year. The only thing we're losing are her high scores at Solitaire."

Piper smiles a little at that, trying to catch Alex's eye, but she's not having it.

The living room looks empty and bigger than it ever has, and when she sees it Piper feels like crying.

Alex's face is blank as she walks over to the shelf with Diane's record collection, the only big thing left in the room, and starts picking up stacks, a dozen records at a time.

"Jesus, Al..."

"What?" Alex's voice is so loud, nearly a shriek, and for the first time Piper hears how close she is to losing it.

"You can slow down...you have all day tomorrow," Piper says gently.

"And I've still got to clear out the bedroom, and whatever the hell she was keeping in the basement storage space, so just...let me do this."

"Okay, you're right, I'll help you..." Placating, Piper grabs a few records, flipping through the sleeves, looking for familiar titles. "Remember when we alphabetized them, and we were so proud of ourselves, even though your mom already had them in a way more complicated order? Like genre or era or whatever it was." She pauses, but Alex doesn't respond. "But she still acted like it was awesome...we didn't figure it out until months later when she finally moved them back the way they were." Alex keeps stacking records. Piper stops working, and without thinking Piper says, pleadingly, "Alex."

Alex drops the last of the albums into the box and shoots up, wild eyed. "Stop. I'm not going to do this. I'm not going to...pretend to be okay for you."

"I'm not asking you to - "

"Yeah, you kinda are. You want this to...to look and feel a certain way, and I can't...I just need to get it the fuck over with."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good." Alex turns back to the shelf; she seems thrown off to find it empty. She looks down at the boxes, packed full of record sleeves, and for just a second, her face folds in on itself.

"Alex?"

She turns abruptly, heading toward the kitchen and grabbing her keys off the counter. "Um...can you...can you take those to the car? Please?"

"Sure..."

"Just...in the trunk, okay?"

"Yeah. Of course."

Alex is already pushing past her, heading to the bedroom. Piper takes the boxes of records out to the car Alex bought Diane two years ago. It takes three trips. When she's done, she rests her chin on one of the empty racks, clenching her teeth and driving her fist over and over into the corner of the shelf.

Then she goes into the bedroom and finds Alex tossing cassettes into a garbage bag.

"What are you doing?"

"Tossing these."

Piper's heart leaps in panic. "Not to throw away, though, right?"

"Yeah, obviously to throw away, they're tapes. They're not worth anything."

Alex is throwing them one at a time, like she's drawing it out to do the most damage. "Stop it."

Alex gives her a look like she's being crazy, an annoying little kid, and doesn't stop throwing tapes in.

Piper lets out a short, disbelieving laugh before lifting her chin, stubborn. "Fine, I'll keep them."

Alex goes still. Then, she flicks the briefest flash of a glance at Piper, and slowly and deliberately unravels the cassette, unspooling a tangle of tape, jerking it out.

It's meant to hurt her, and it does. Tears rising, Piper asks thickly, "Why are you being like this?"

Whatever has been holding Alex together all day finally snaps.

"Because it's all over, Piper!" Alex drops the bag and rounds on her. "My mom is dead. You and I, we're done." For all her avoiding eye contact all day, now Alex's gaze is digging into Piper, pinning her: blown pupils behind a sheen of tears. "I just need to get out of here, she's so gone here, Pipes, I can't stop thinking about it. I just want to leave, I want to go...but when I do, you'll be gone. And I know it's not your fault, it's just shit fucking timing, but it still really sucks." Her voice cracks, and she pulls in a harsh, staccato breath.

Tears are rolling unchecked down Piper's cheeks. "I know." It's barely a breath. "I'm sorry."

Something empties out, between them. The quiet is punctuated by sharp breaths and stifled sobs, and it seems to go on forever.

"Don't throw those out yet," Piper says thickly after awhile. "I want...I need to go get something. To show you."

Before Alex can say anything else, Piper walks out of the apartment.

She drives to her parents house; they're eating dinner, her mom and dad and Cal, and they act way too happy to see her.

"Sweetheart, sit down, fix a plate...where's Alex?"

"She's packing up the apartment - "

"Already?"

"Yeah, I'm just grabbing some stuff, I can't stay."

Her mom looks genuinely disappointed, and Piper can't help but wonder how long this new attentiveness is going to last. "We really do want you to two to come over before you leave...when do you think you'll be leaving?"

"I...don't know yet." She's not sure why she can't just tell them, that she's not going anywhere, at least not out of the country. It would make them ecstatically happy but she can't bring herself to say it.

She heads upstairs. "Cal, I got you a TV."

"Sweet."

Alex is lying in the floor of the empty living room, drinking from a bottle of whiskey. Piper hadn't thought there was anymore alcohol left in the apartment; she must have made a liquor store run when she went to get the boxes.

The image slams into her so hard that it takes a second for Piper to realize there's music playing, softly: The Cure's Disintegration. She glances over; the boxes are still gone, presumably still in Alex's car, but she's obviously brought the record player back, and there's a stack of albums sitting on the otherwise empty shelf.

Alex follows Piper's gaze. "Those are for you. All The Cure ones."

It's the last thing she's expecting, and it knocks the wind out of her. "Are you sure? I don't even have a record player."

"Not really the point, Pipes."

"But they're your mom's."

"I know," Alex says simply. She looks up at Piper; her eyes are red. "What's that?"

Piper eases herself onto her knees beside Alex, putting down the stack of shoe boxes she'd brought with her. She frowns, not sure the best way to do this, and finally she just upends them all, scattering papers across the carpet.

Confused, Alex onto her stomach and grabs for the nearest torn out piece of notebook paper. She reads out loud, "Pipes, it's not technically sneaking in if they never ask for my ID, and you know they won't. But it's playing at 7:45, so you'll have to skip watching our shitty team lose a football game, which I know you think is a tragedy..." She trails off, dropping the mindless, middle school note back onto the floor. She picks up another page, this time reading silently.

It's everything Piper had combed through the night Alex was in the hospital, plus all the postcards Alex had sent her while she was in college. Piper watches patiently while Alex picks through the pages. A few times she catches her almost smiling.

"I kept everything," Piper says quietly after awhile. "And I'm not going to go home and shred it all just because you're leaving. This is our whole life. It still matters, Alex."

Alex glances at her, face soft, but she doesn't say anything, just goes back to whatever she was reading. When she puts it down, she picks up an envelope, pulling out a letter. Confusion shadows her face. "What's this?" She looks up. "From my mom?"

"Oh..." Piper hadn't even thought about the letters. "Forgot about those."

Alex is scanning the floor; she picks up another envelope, and then one more. "She was writing you letters?"

"Yeah, just...you know after you were in the hospital, and you took me back to school...I didn't see her before I left. So I sent her a birthday card, and this really long, cheesy letter. And she wrote me back, totally making fun of me, saying that i sounded like I was never going to see her again." Only after she says it do the words knock the wind out of her, and just like she's crying. "And, um..." She can't talk. "Sorry..." Alex's hand covers hers, flat on the carpet, and stays there until Piper starts up again, "She said we could still talk, anytime, so...we wrote a few letters. Just every month or so."

"How did I not know that?" Alex is frowning at her. "When I was in town, I was the one checking the mail, so I could get to bills before Mom did. I never saw letters from you."

"Yeah, I kinda...sent them to her at work."

Alex's face scrunches in confusion. "Why?"

Piper looks down at her. "I didn't want to upset you."

"What does that mean?"

"You said all or nothing, remember?" Piper says softly.

"Right..." Alex exhales heavily, pillowing her head across arms. The Cure plays softly in the background for awhile, and then she asks, "Do you wish we'd left it at that?"

"What?"

"At nothing." She lets that hover there, caught between them, and when Piper doesn't answer, she adds, "Do you wish I'd never called you?"

"No," she's never sounded so sure about anything. "God, Alex, of course not. I missed you so much, at school...you calling was the best part of my day, every time, but especially that first time." Alex tilts her head, looking up her, soaking in how much Piper means it. After a moment of hesitation, Piper adds, "And I don't regret going with you to Bali."

Alex pulls a dark, skeptical face. "Really?"

"Yeah, really. Alex, I loved having adventures with you, I'd have never seen anything like that on m own. And I loved being with you. I told you...you were all I wanted." Piper's eyes dim slightly. "But I needed something else, you know? I wasn't doing anything. After a few days of exploring a new place, or as soon as you got busy...I was miserable. I was your pathetic, useless housewife. You know it's true. It felt like I was always just waiting...waiting around for you to have time for me, waiting for something bad to happen, I don't know." She's talking faster, half frantic, half defensive. "Maybe that makes me a hypocrite, because I wasn't complaining about the cartel when it was all scuba diving and shopping and partying all night. And, yeah, I knew what I was getting into, so maybe that's not fair. I just wasn't happy, Alex."

Alex's face is a wrestling match of emotions. After an eternity, she gives a tiny nod. "Okay."

Piper's voice catches. "But I can't have you hate me."

"Dumbass." Alex bumps her elbow against Piper's knee. "I love you."

All the fiery defenses Piper had built up during her tirade are gone, leaving her weak with dread. "I love you, too."

Alex looks up, her eyes shiny and sad. She smiles. "You're the only one who does."

Piper's mouth flies open instinctively to refute that, but then she realizes it's true. She whispers Alex's name with her whole heart in her voice. Her fingers close around the front of Alex's shirt, and she tugs her close, kissing her with all that love she's not sure what to do with.

"Pipes...hey..." Alex murmurs against her mouth, too soon, pressing her forehead against Piper's. "I'm leaving tomorrow."

Piper rocks back on her heels, eyes widening. "No, you...you said Tuesday."

"I know. But there's a flight tomorrow night, so..." She gives a small, helpless shrug.

They look at each other. Sorrow is embedded in Alex's features, and Piper's thinking how people always talk about getting their heart broken, like it's something one person does to another; even the breaking is something Alex and Piper have always done together.

"Tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

Then they're kissing.

"Pipes?"

They're tangled together on the living room floor, after.

"Are you crying?"

"No."

She turns her face, hiding against Alex's collarbone.

"Piper..."

"Please don't leave."

It just slips out, trembling and raw with need.

Alex goes perfectly still beneath her. All Piper can feel is her heart.

Her voice is rough, thick with tears.

"Don't stay."

Piper lifts her head just enough to meet Alex's eyes.

"Love you."

"Love you."

Piper shakes her head, disbelieving.

"What are we going to do with it all?"

Alex doesn't ask what she means.

"Come here."

They kiss like the world's ending.