She was gone. Just gone. As in no coming back, no more
"one-more-last-chance," no temporary reprieves. She was
dead, and she wasn't coming back.
Even just thinking it made something deep inside him hurt.
Someone, some omnipresent "they," always said that you don't know what you have until you've lost it. Perhaps "they" were right. In the past few weeks, he'd begun to realize just how much she really meant to him, now that he had to face a life without her in it. All that remained of her now were her daughters (one of which was terrified of him, one looked nothing like her, and the last was only nine years old) and memories.
Memories... Surely there had to be more than that. The walls and floor of the gravity room were oppressively hard as he sat in thought. For some reason he was inanely surprised at the things about her that did stand out in his memory.
Her perfect naked silhouette as she brushed her hair slowly... He could recall watching her brush that golden mass before the lights went out--then scolding him in the morning when it was a mess.
The way her eyes would meet his in the bathroom mirror... For a woman who couldn't sense ki, she always had an uncanny ability of knowing where he was, especially when he was near her or watching her or even just thinking about her. Those blue eyes that always seemed to awaken something new inside him... They couldn't gone forever...
The way those eyes darkened as he buried himself inside her... He didn't remember every night they'd had together, but some stood out. The night Trunks was conceived was certainly memorable; the night he was born even more so. Their wedding night was the most memorable of all.
He remembered how warm her body felt as she lay half-asleep beside him, their legs entwined. There had been nights she'd exhausted him and she'd held him as he fell asleep. More often, though, he would watch her sleep for hours.
He'd never forget the way the sunlight played upon her body. He always woke up before her and watched the golden light touch every curve one by one, so slowly sometimes he found it hard to breathe. There had been mornings the light had revealed marks he'd left on her from the previous night, and he'd touched and kissed them lightly. She would wake up the minute he touched her and stretch. She would smile that smile that lit up the room a thousand times brighter than any sun and whisper, "I love you."
Had she known the way he felt about her? He'd tried to show her every day they'd been together. She'd told him before Trunks was even born that she understood how hard the words were for him, and she had never pushed for more, saying she was content to just have him near her. If he got her back, she would know how he felt; he'd make sure of it. He would tell her how much he...
The gravity shut off, but he didn't look up to see who it was. After all, it probably was just Kakaroto checking up on him again. Tiny arms wrapped around his neck, and a small head leaned against his shoulder. "Papa," ChibiChibi whispered.
Without a word, he held his youngest child and tried not to notice how much she looked like his wife.
[A.N.: Stabbing Westward fans may recognize certain elements of this story. I was inspired, you could say, by their song "Waking Up Beside You"; hence is why it's on the soundtract. If you're wondering why this is Version 2.0 instead of the original, I can answer that one simply: The first one sucked! It was my first attempt at a lemon, and it just wasn't doing good, so I dumped it for this one. Ja mata!]