A/N: Hello you lovelies! I just can't seem to let go of the Still Falling for You universe, and I don't know why, I really like it! So, this is a sequel to SFFY, but then in another universe as That's My Boy, just to make it easier, lol. Also, my phone broke last week so this took longer to write, as I had to actually get my laptop out the entire time instead of just being able to write it on my phone.
Anyway, enjoy! This story is WAY fluffier than any of the other pieces in this universe. Like, way, way fluffier.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.
'Just like that'
It had taken the people around him quite some time to get used to the fact that he was doing alright, just like it had taken a while to get used to Pascal always being around him, but just like that, people knew he was okay.
He knew he had surprised friend and foe with his remarkable recovery, but he only argued that he wanted Teresa to be proud of him - he knew that if she would have been around to experience him now, she would have been incredibly proud. It was that feeling that got him out of bed every morning.
~...~
People had worried about him too much, but he had stopped doing that a long time ago. He would never be the same again, but he could at least live.
"Will you ever find a woman again?" people had asked him.
"No. Never." Because nobody could ever top Teresa Lisbon, no matter how long he would look, no matter how far he would go.
And people would never understand. In this day and age, all that was important to society was finding a husband or wife, and having lots of children.
He had lost his wife. He would never get her back. What was the point of trying to find someone like her again if he knew there was nobody else who would ever do?
~...~
He visited her grave like he did every Monday, always looking forward to sitting on that familiar spot in the grass, bringing her a lovely bouquet of flowers.
He had never believed in the afterlife, and still didn't, none of this changing his view on life and death, but it brought him comfort to know that she was somewhere better. Although, better was probably not the correct way of describing this, seeing as she should have simply been in his arms right here instead of six feet underground.
He sighed. He might be doing alright, he was still bitter about her death. She deserved way, way better than this.
Pascal inched closer and put his head in Jane's lap, like he always had, ever since they had become friends. It calmed Jane down, and Pascal, too, being this close to each other. Jane didn't know where he would be without this adorable Labrador to keep him company. He probably would have given up already.
Pascal lifted his head, which usually meant there was a bug around, or another dog that he could play with. Jane lifted his hands so he was no longer preventing the dog from walking away.
"Go get 'em," Jane said, and Pascal took off so fast he almost fell flat on his face.
Jane could merely smile at that. He had made the comparison often but it wasn't important anymore - Pascal would never be Teresa, and nothing would ever change that.
Pascal started barking, and that was something else entirely, because he hardly let himself be known, especially not by barking.
Jane turned around to see what had gotten Pascal so wound up, but didn't really know what he was seeing. It was definitely Teresa, one of the best hallucinations he'd ever had, but Pascal was barking at her. Why was he barking at her if she was just in his mind? Was he really going insane now?
He was done with this situation, he wanted to be okay but this moment just showed him that he was anything but that.
The vision of Teresa was always looking at him, never at Pascal who was jumping around her. She was kind of slumped over a little, her arms wrapped around her waist, and even from this distance he could see that her lips were torn and there were bruises on her face and arms.
It was weird. Was this him picturing what she might have looked like if the car hadn't set fire? Every time he had thought of her since her death, she had looked pretty much flawless, the way he remembered her to be. This was something else entirely.
Suddenly, it clicked. He didn't want to have false hopes, but he got up, his knees weak and tears forming in his eyes.
Her hand reached up and covered her mouth, tears escaping her eyes but she stepped closer, and he did too, until he was so close he could have touched her if he wanted. And he did, his hand reaching out to brush her cheek, and he gasped when he was met by real skin, not the ghost of a touch, pulling his hand back as if burned.
He couldn't fathom what was happening here, his mind going in overload. She was dead. He buried her. Cho had seen her body, even though it had been burned to a crisp, but her necklace and wedding ring had been there, convincing everybody that it had been her. And yet, here she was, or she seemed to be, anyway.
"Jane," she whispered, her soft voice making him flinch, it was even more beautiful than he remembered, and his jaw dropped, tears burning in his eyes.
He shook his head.
"You're dead."
She let out a small whiff of air, tears streaming down her cheeks. She closed the distance between them and put one hand on his cheek, and her touch sent shivers down his back and sparks to his brain.
"Oh my god," she whispered, and as her breath fanned his face, he finally realized that this might be real, and that it wasn't a dream.
He'd had dreams like this before, and she had touched him then, but he had always known it wasn't real, couldn't really feel her touch.
This was not that. This touch was very real, setting his entire body on fire, awakening feelings he hadn't felt for ages.
He couldn't voice anything, confusion and shock preventing him from even breathing properly.
He wrapped both his arms around her waist tightly, pushing her to him so close he couldn't have any doubts any more.
"How," he started, but let the question wander, running his hands up and down her back.
She was sobbing by now, tears spoiling her perfect features, and simply wrapped her arms around his neck, burying herself close in his embrace, and all he could do was let the tears escape his eyes, looking up at the sky.
He had asked for a miracle. This was more than he could have wished for.
~...~
He still wouldn't believe that this was real, still felt someone would jump out of the bushes and tell him that this was all a sick joke, or that he would wake up and realize that this was just a dream.
He didn't know what would be worse.
He took her to Kimball Cho's house, not knowing where else to go, and all he needed from said man was the confirmation that this was real. He knew Cho would never play with Jane like this, no matter if he would have liked to do it from time to time.
Cho took one long look at Teresa, let out a small gasp and just shook his head.
"Damn. Talk about a goddamn miracle."
While Cho called God knows who, Jane sat Teresa down and took the space beside her, his hands all over her, telling himself with every touch that this was real. She was here.
She was really here.
She had recovered from her crying and was now merely tracing his face with her fingertips, the soft gesture making his heart swell.
"I love you," he whispered. For the first time in over a year, he told her, in the flesh, not some memory or a framed picture. He ran his hand through her hair, and through the leftover tears he saw her eyes twinkle, the location of her hands didn't even register in his brain, just that they were on his body.
Cho crouched down in front of her, making her look at him.
"Can you tell me what happened?"
Because if there was one thing that was certain, it was that something terrible had happened, and it didn't give Jane a good feeling at all. Nevertheless, she was here.
She shook her head, not saying anything, and Cho nodded.
"Alright." He put his hand on his shoulder, a smile breaking through his usual Cho facade. "Whatever happened, I'm glad you're still alive."
And that was a thought everybody could get behind.
~...~
She was checked up at the hospital, and nobody was surprised that she was in a bad shape, bruises covering her entire body, and she suffered internal injuries, too. Her shock at seeing him again had greatly numbed the pain, but when the realization of their unexpected uniting had sunk in, she had slowly given in to the pain.
Everybody was curious what had happened, but all Jane wanted to know was if she would be okay. He was not going to lose her a second time.
He didn't even ask for permission from the nurses and doctors to sleep in her bed - he was her husband, and she wanted him to sleep next to her, so he did.
They cried in each other's arms, consoling the other as much as they could in their current state, but both of them were so tired, exhausted, so eventually, sleep won over before they could say anything else than they had already said.
~...~
He woke up with a smile on his face. He'd had such a nice dream, Teresa had still been alive and he had gotten a second chance at loving her, protecting her. He was almost reluctant to open his eyes - he knew the reality he lived in was not as good as his dream.
He moved to make himself some tea, but something warm pressed against his side prevented him from doing so. He looked down, ready to tell Pascal to go back to his own bed, but his heart jumped out of his chest when she saw the great love of his life in his arms, peacefully asleep. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he let out a breath, immensely happy.
That was right. It hadn't been a dream, it was reality.
He'd had trouble accepting her death, and had fought months, almost years to deal with life without her - now that she was here, he found he needed to get used to having her around again. It was, however, a pleasant change from his eternal life as a widower.
He had his Teresa back. He didn't know for how long, but he would make the best out of their time together.
For now, he left the comfortable warmth of her body to make himself some tea, which he drank while admiring her from a small distance.
~...~
She wouldn't talk about anything that had happened between the accident and the moment they were reunited, and Jane didn't force her, just let it be known that if she wanted to talk about it, he was there to listen to her.
The police, however, wanted to know the story, especially since if she had been involved or used in criminal activities, any DNA samples and the likes would be fading quickly.
Jane pushed them away from her every time they tried to contact her. If they would force the facts out of her, it might just cause her to shut down completely. They were not going to be the final straw to break her back.
She hardly talked, if at all, only for the most important things, communicating to him what she needed, and to tell him that she loved him.
Hearing those words after so long from her, while he had thought he would never hear them again, sent shivers down his spine and made him the happiest man walking on the surface of this planet.
~...~
She was carrying a huge sadness with her that he knew would only leave when she would talk about what happened.
They had quickly made arrangements for Pascal, and when he took her home, he saw a small smile appear on her lips when she discovered their cabin. Her hand covered her mouth and she laughed in disbelief, her other hand on his arm.
"Do you like it?" he whispered. It was the sole reason he had continued renovating their shack, to satisfy his woman, but he never could have predicted she would actually get to see it.
She didn't respond, just motioned for him to guide her inside, and he did, showing her around, until they arrived at the little table he had created with her framed picture.
She turned to him with tears in her eyes.
"You're still here," she whispered, maybe only now realizing that despite her death, he still carried on living.
He stepped towards her, cupping both her cheeks.
"So are you."
She kissed his lips, a brief touch, until her small sobs made breathing a priority over kissing him.
"I'm so proud of you," she whispered, her hand brushing his curls, but her foot stamped on the floor, a groan escaping her mouth, and he frowned, holding her close. "Will I ever stop crying?"
It made him chuckle, if only just a little, and brushed her hair.
"You may cry."
"I need to get over myself."
She sighed and hugged him close, her head in the crook of his neck, and he lifted her then, his arms around her waist, carrying her to the bedroom - their bedroom.
"What you need," he whispered, "is a good night's sleep in a safe and warm environment."
Because she hadn't slept all that much at the hospital while she was being monitored, and she needed to sleep properly if she wanted to fight the nightmares.
He wasn't surprised when she fell asleep even before her head was on her pillow. He had helped her into her pajamas and had tucked her in, like he had done before, before both their lives were turned upside down.
She slept for hours on end, only waking up to go to the toilet or eat something. She didn't eat much, but he made sure she at least drank enough. On top of her traumatic experience, dehydration was not preferred.
He joined her in their bed often, usually just to look at her or hold her for his own fulfillment, because she wouldn't know that he'd held her to begin with. At one point, he had slid under the sheets, most of his clothes shed out of pure comfort, and she had woken up, a blush on her cheeks, most likely from the comfortable warmth their bodies had created under the covers. She looked down at him, his head on her chest, and he fell in love with her all over again, the past countless of months forgotten, burned behind them, leaving only a hopefully beautiful future with her. He loved her so much, and he had known that fact for years by now, the feeling of it liberating and cleansing.
She scooted down and kissed his lips, her movements still a little slow, which wasn't a surprise considering she had slept for so long.
Her hand slipped under his shirt and he gasped, pushing her away gently. She wouldn't have any of it, pushing closer, but he still tried to make her back off a little. She wasn't ready for this, he didn't want to force himself up on her, and she needed to rest.
"You need to recover," he whispered against her lips, the more she touched him, the more he was fighting his need to kiss her senseless.
"We can take it slow," she whispered, brushing his pelvic bone, bringing back to life feelings he hadn't felt in a long time, and it made him see stars, gasping for air.
"Teresa, I don't want to take advantage of this situation."
"Patrick Jane, you're my husband and I need you, right now. I admire your attempts to be a gentleman but I don't want that right now."
Those words were enough to make him give in, and he kissed her, pushing her onto her back.
"Please tell me if you want to stop," he whispered, kissing her neck, "because I won't stop otherwise."
But she didn't give him any indication that she wanted him to stop.
They made love that night, slowly and carefully, taking their time to get reacquainted with one another, and Jane felt alive like never before, all of his sorrow and grief melting away with all of her sighs and moans and kisses.
~...~
He had his head pressed against her belly, tears in both their eyes, their bodies still hot from their lovemaking.
She was the first to start crying, her hands in his curls, looking up at the ceiling.
"I lost the baby," she sobbed, and it made him move upwards, wrapping his arms around her frame. "I was so far along, Patrick. Way further than when we last saw each other."
She brushed his curls, tears still rolling down her cheeks.
"I think maybe a week later he would have been able to survive outside my belly… but they made sure I miscarried. This far into my pregnancy."
She took in a deep breath and then exhaled on a shuddering sigh.
"He was really beautiful, Patrick. My God… I wish you could have seen him. But they took him away. I hardly had time to see him… he died and they ripped him away from me."
This was the most descriptive story of her experiences he had heard so far, but he felt it might be the one that was bothering her the most of all of them.
They had cherished their unborn child together when it had still been in her belly, and he had admired what it did to her body, all the small changes that signaled it was preparing for childbirth. It was literally a part of them, their love, and it had been taken from them, from her, so cruelly.
"Oh Teresa," he whispered, hugging her close, and they both cried, would they ever stop crying? It felt relieving, however, to let go of all of his fears and sadness in her arms, have her protect him even if she did the same.
~...~
He contacted Dr. Stephanie Puth, the doctor who had helped him find a new purpose in life, hoping she would be able to help Teresa like she had helped him.
The police was still on Teresa's trail, and each day their need to hear her story got more intense. Thankfully, even though neither Teresa nor Jane worked in law enforcement at that time, they still had friends there, and especially Dennis Abbott was very vocal about his wishes to leave her alone until she was ready.
Jane appreciated his friends, but he had already known how much they cared. Ever since he had learned of her death, even though they had been grieving too, they had been there for him, as one collective, trying to keep him from doing anything stupid. If it hadn't been for them, he wouldn't have been here now.
Dr. Puth had agreed with Jane that Teresa should take however long she needed to deal with her memories, and that anything she would share in their sessions would stay between the two of them.
Pascal came back home after a week or so counting from the moment Teresa was released from the hospital, and they were formally introduced to each other at long last, the only time they had seen each other was at the graveyard. Teresa smiled as she went down on her knees and rubbed the dog's head, happily accepting his affections.
"He's a really easy dog," Jane stated as he knelt down beside them. "I traveled the entire world and he followed me everywhere."
She looked at him, frowning. "You did what?"
He realized he hadn't really told her what had happened during her absence, only the most vital things, and she deserved to know.
"After I finished the cabin, I had nothing left to do. And the more spare time I had, the more I started thinking about the fact that our bed was so empty. So I booked a ticket on the first flight to where I could take Pascal, and I didn't stop until I had visited every country I could. Took me months."
He got up, walked to the table where he used to place her frame, and picked up the album he had published. He was happy that he no longer needed to put her picture on that table, even though it was pretty much burned into his system to always look at it when he passed the table.
He handed the album to her, and watched as she took everything in, a small smile on her face.
"Looks gorgeous," she whispered. She looked up at him and he saw tears in her eyes. He inched closer and brushed them away before they touched her cheeks.
"Hey, it's okay," he whispered and wrapped an arm around her. She snuggled into his hold, like she always did, and like he hoped she always would. "It was sad, but I really enjoyed myself. I had Pascal with me."
She shook her head.
"It's just… I'm so happy that you carried on. That you took my words and carried them out." She looked up at him. "I'm so proud of you. I know I've said it before but I still mean it."
"I'm proud of me, too."
She chuckled, and it thawed his frozen heart, stuck in the ice for months. He knew he hadn't been necessarily unhappy without her, but it hadn't been happy either that he called himself. Now that she was here, again, where she belonged, he knew he couldn't possibly be happier than this. He had lost her once, he was not going to lose her again.
~...~
He cooked for them, and she still lay in their bed, still recovering a little, and he loved to operate at her beck and call, his heart swelling every time he saw her smile.
He couldn't believe it, still. She was here. He had pinched himself many times ever since he had seen her again, not believing he was granted this second chance.
He carried the tray of light dinner into their bedroom, but paused in the doorway, a few steps away from their bed, and felt an involuntary smile blossom on his features. He didn't fight it, instead let it be seen to her, to the entire world if needed. But especially her.
"What?" she whispered, a smile on her lips, too.
He shook his head.
"I thought you died. But here you are."
She waved for him to come closer, and he did, placing the tray on the nightstand and sitting down on the bed beside her.
"I'm here," she whispered.
Yes. She was here.
~...~
She had opened up slowly, partly because of the safe environment Jane had created around her, and partly because Dr. Puth had given her room to talk about her feelings. Neither Jane nor Stephanie judged her.
It was on a calm and beautiful night, as he and Teresa sat on that familiar spot where he had proposed to her, that she opened up to him completely.
"I don't think I need to tell you who took me," she started, slightly insecure at first, visibly struggling with putting her story out there, instead of the memories being stuck in her head. "I know you've had suspicions."
He grabbed a fistful of his pants, needing some form of relief of the anger in his body. Of course.
"They were angry at you that you killed him. And I was angry at them that they had taken me. They staged the entire accident, I know that." She sighed. "I had no illusions about who they were, even though it took them a while until they explained their actions to me. I only hoped they would spare the baby. They didn't. I don't know if they knew what they were doing, but they hardly fed me and I already felt that it wasn't good. I woke up one morning and I felt the most intense pain I have ever felt in my life, and I knew, I knew, I had lost the last thing reminding me of you. Of better times. I almost gave up, but I knew that if I would ever get out of there, I wanted to see you. They told me that you were on the edge… I was so afraid you would… kill…" She shook her head, brushing that thought away. "But I saw something changed in them. I heard them talking about how keeping me dead was not doing to you what they had hoped. And it felt so good to hear that you were doing okay. It was your strength and courage that made me hold out for so long.
"They lost sight of you at one point, and it freaked them out. I was scared that something had happened to you, but considering you were doing so well, I didn't believe it. I held onto my trust in you, because I knew you could do it. It might have been difficult in the beginning, but I could tell through them that you would be alright.
"Eventually, they gave up. They beat me in the beginning, but when they realized it didn't do me much, mentally, they stopped. I think as a reaction to you doing so well, they acted out their frustration towards me. I… I thought I would die, right there. Their kicks hurt so much, I was so exhausted, I just wanted to go home. Be with you." She met his eyes. "And then they let me go. Kicked me so hard in the stomach that it was almost as bad as losing…"
She didn't finish that sentence, knowing that he would understand what she meant.
"I honest to God thought that they would kill me. They brought me to a deserted area, pushed me out of the car, then drove away. I thought no one would know where I was… and then I saw you."
She looked at him, her hands tracing his features, and smiled, even if there were tears in her eyes.
"It was like being reborn. Everything I had experienced fell off me. All I wanted was to be in your arms and show you that I was alright."
"And you did."
She brushed his cheeks, not being able to resist kissing him.
"I did." She smiled, but it dropped when she continued her train of thoughts. "I want to tell the police. I really do. I'm just afraid that... they... will come looking for me."
And he understood. How could he not? She was scared that they would want to make her pay for being arrested, and considering they were very bitter people if they were still avenging the death of their leader, that chance was rather significant.
"I'll protect you. I promise. We'll work out something with Abbott."
She scooted closer to him so they could slip into their arms.
~...~
She documented her memories in front of the police who were handling the case, and afterwards she was shaking with fear, wanting to be nowhere else than in his arms. He held her, as she held him, and it felt like they didn't let go until the two men had been caught, only days later.
Teresa had been on edge that entire time, out of her mind due to paranoia, totally out of character for the strong Lisbon he had once known, but it wasn't her fault. She had asked him to stay around her all the time and he did, even waiting outside the bathroom when she showered, letting her know that she was there. It helped to calm down his nerves, too - he acted strong for her sake, but he was scared as well.
When the police had caught the two men, and they had confessed of their crimes, Jane let out a breath of relief he hadn't known he'd been holding, hoping they could finally close that chapter, leave it be in the past and move on, together.
Seeing her attackers behind bars cleared her mind, and she started smiling more often, finally becoming that happy woman she deserved to be.
It felt like restarting. Their months apart instilling a hard reset on their love, and finding each other again caused them to found out again why they had been so in love in the first place. He knew why. She was the most amazing woman that walked the surface of this planet.
She was cooking at one point, enjoying being busy, preparing something good for them to enjoy, when he turned her away from the pots and pans.
"Teresa Lisbon," he started, and she already shook her head.
"If you distract me from the dish now, I will have to start all over again."
"I will risk it." He went down on one knee, kissing her hands. "Please marry me."
She frowned, taking forever to say something.
"We're… already married, Jane."
"I know that. I just think it would be good to do it again, without any killers out there wanting to kill us, start our marriage on a happier note. Because I want the rest of our lives together to be happy and beautiful, like they are supposed to be. We have been through so much together. I just want to be happy with you, dammit."
She leaned down and kissed his lips, until her back wouldn't quite accept being bent in such an odd angle and she knelt in front of him, her arms around him tightly.
When she pulled away, she was there to brush his tears off his cheeks.
"Of course I will marry you. Again."
So they did.
~...~
The service was actually small this time, the only ones present aside from them were Dennis Abbott and Kimball Cho as their witnesses. It was short, only the most important words were spoken, and before they knew it, they were done.
Abbott smiled at them with a sad look on his face. Jane shook his hand, accepting his congratulations.
"Don't be sad," Jane told the man, tapping his upper arm. "I know good things are coming."
With Teresa beside him, everything was all good.
~...~
He carried her over the threshold like he had done the first time, but this time, it felt different. For starters, the first time it had been a near empty shack that he had taken her and their unborn child to, now the cabin was all finished. Also, this time around, they had been through even more than before.
He carried her straight to their bedroom, where all they did was sleep in each other's arms, hoping, wishing, that this time, their marriage wasn't followed by bad luck.
As he was admiring her, both their faces underneath the sheets, he realized she still deserved that honeymoon he had promised her. Twice, even.
"You're planning something."
He nodded, softly running his index finger from her forehead, down to her brow, the tip of her nose, her lips and finally her chin.
"I still need to take you on a honeymoon," he stated, and she instantly rolled her eyes. Most of the old Teresa Lisbon was back by now, but some things would never come back, would forever stay in that warehouse where she had been kept for so long.
"Why are you intent on having that honeymoon?"
He kissed her lips, butterflies still in his belly, fluttering around.
"Because you're my beautiful bride. You deserve to see how beautiful the world to me is when you're in my arms."
She scoffed in exasperation, but he could tell that his words touched her. He hoped she believed his words - hers had showed him how gorgeous this planet was. The least he could do was return the favor.
"Let's not wait any longer," he whispered, lifting the sheets so they were no longer covered from head to toe. "Are you ready to go?"
"Jane, are you crazy? We can't just up and leave!"
"Why not?"
"We have Pascal, I have my job to get back to."
He got up, already packing some things, and he heard her get up, too.
"We can drop Pascal off at Wylie's, he loves that dog. And Abbott will understand if you first go on a vacation."
He turned to her.
"Let me spoil you senseless."
She sighed and crossed her arms, giving in.
"Alright."
He leaned in and kissed her cheek.
"You will not regret this."
~...~
They dropped Pascal off at Wylie, together with the key to their place to get food for the dog, and when they had finished everything they could, they drove to the airport. He didn't even know where they would first go, hadn't planned anything, but he knew anywhere she was, would be perfect to him.
He went up to the first desk he could find and put down both their passports.
"Hello, good evening, my wife and I would like to book tickets on the first flight you have."
Teresa slid her arms around his waist, and he knew he was the luckiest man alive.
He still couldn't believe that she was here with him, that her death had in fact been nothing more than a nightmare, but once he had woken up, he had been surrounded with endless love.
~...~
When they had gone stargazing near the Yangtze River, they had answered any questions they might still have left about their time apart. She told him about the nightmares she'd had as she was lying on the cold floor, the fear she'd had that she was ultimately wrong about his strength. He told her about the flowers he'd brought to her grave, about the therapy sessions with Dr. Puth and the women he'd had to fight off.
"Why didn't you at least try?" she'd asked him.
"I couldn't. Everywhere I went, I was reminded of you. I would never be able to find anyone better than you, because you are perfect to me."
When they were walking down the streets of Florence, they had discussed their ideas about the future. Both of them agreed that they wouldn't prevent a pregnancy from happening, but they knew they would likely not be blessed with that miracle, not anymore. Jane didn't want to go back to law enforcement, was done with that life, so he would look for something else to do. Teresa would see if Cho wanted her back in the team, but she wouldn't fret if he didn't. She would find something.
When they were having dinner at the Sydney Harbour, both of them realized that she hadn't been feeling well, but they had first chalked it up to always being on the move, never stopping anywhere for long. They had decided to stay in Sydney for a few days to give her some time to rest, but the nausea didn't go away. Neither of them dared to hope, fearing it was just the universe's way of hating them. Later that evening, they lay in their hotel room, and he inspected her entire belly, looking for signs that were similar to the previous one. He knew he shouldn't do it, but if she was pregnant, he would want her to have the best care in the world.
He didn't dare to hope. But somewhere deep down, he felt she was.
~...~
They rounded up their little road trip after about two months. They had wanted to keep going, they still hadn't seen every place they wanted to see, but her morning sickness was getting too much out of hand that he didn't want to burden her with having to be on the move the entire time.
By that time, she was once again already showing. He held his breath, not wanting this pregnancy to turn into a nightmare, too.
~...~
A few days before she gave birth to their beautiful baby, they went to the graveyard, like they did every first Monday of the month. Her grave had obviously been removed, but he still loved coming here, even if he had her by his side this time.
He helped her sit down at the bench he had ordered to be placed there, and he sat down beside her, their hands automatically entwining.
"Might be the last time before our little one is born," she stated, but they both knew it definitely was the last time. He couldn't wait to hold them, discover the little fingers and toes and the beautiful eyes they would get from their mother. She, on the other hand, didn't mind being pregnant a little longer, but he felt it was because she feared that this would be a repeat show of the previous time.
She proved later that week that it wasn't a rerun, and that this was real. She gave birth to their beautiful baby girl, Mirai, and he knew that life couldn't get any better than this.
A/N: So, let me know what you think in a REVIEW, please!