Corso leaned back into the porch swing, the shadows of dusk falling over him. When he missed her the most, this is where he found himself, time and again. He set it in motion, and closed his eyes. He could hear his daughter inside, chatting with the C2 unit. He should go and play with her, but he just couldn't drag himself up. He'd been up with her twice last night, the nightmares infrequent now but no less intense. He figured it was because the anniversary of her mother's disappearance was close.
Miriah. Their whole world had been built around her. Calypso had been five years old when her mother's ship was found, drifting in space, empty. He sighed, trying to resist the memories. He stood and looked out over the ranch before going inside. Five years ago, this week, his world had crashed, and nothing had been the same since.
Devin was in a camp on Tatooine, doing research on the sand people there. He felt his father's despair and sighed. He missed her, too, he thought. Never more than around this time, but always there, in the back of his mind. When the Dreamweaver was found, looted and bloody, he'd lost himself for a time. He had thought he could still feel her, somehow, but they never found any trace of her. There were scorches of plasma fire and her shotgun was shattered, lying in the hallway to the bridge. If he closed his eyes, he could see the wreckage of the interior of her beloved ship. He allowed himself to feel the grief and longing for his mother for a few minutes before closing that mental door, pulling the mask of Jedi over himself. He'd be on Dantooine tomorrow.
Logan was aboard his ship, both excited and sad. He was taking his fiancé to meet his family, but knew the one he really wanted to be there was no more. His time as a sniper had been rewarding, but he would give it all up to have his mother back. He'd felt guilt, too. She had taken him to Ord Mantell, where his first post was, instead of him going on the troop transport. She'd wanted to have a couple of days with him before he was so busy with his military career. She'd taught him all she knew of flying years ago, but he cherished those last days with her, the laughter and the tears. It was on her return trip that she'd been lost. He turned and tried to smile at Elara, but he knew it was halfhearted at best. Tomorrow, I'll be home, he thought.
Corso helped Calypso with a school project and then sent her to bed. She was a smart girl, always wanted to be the best at anything she attempted. He stood in the middle of their room, his room now. Sometimes, if he just let his mind go, he could almost feel her presence, but tonight all he could feel was the overwhelming grief. So many times, he'd wanted to give up, just let go and be with her wherever she was now. The thought of the kids, and how much she would have wanted him to make sure they grew up safe and healthy, kept him from eating a plasma round on more nights than he would have liked to admit.
He wandered around the house, picking up a book here and shoes there, unable to settle. He finally went out to the porch swing again. He'd pretty much stopped working with Advantages when he'd lost Miriah, and the ranch was pretty easily run these days. That first year without her, he'd just been on auto pilot, losing whole days sitting in the dark, unable to move. He'd stopped eating, and almost stopped talking. He thought again of the day Aric had confronted him and made him see that the kids had lost both their parents that day, and that they needed him. She'd been gone one year and two days at that point, and he'd lost almost a hundred pounds. Aric had made him look at himself in the mirror and it was then that he realized he wished he'd died with her. He never told anyone that, but it had to be obvious. He'd gone out to where the boys had been watching their sister, and with tears, told them all how sorry he was and that he was going to try to go on. Go on, he laughed to himself. Yeah, right. All that's changed is that I'm trying to be a part of their lives. I'll never let go of missing her. He sat heavily, silent tears rolling down his face. Miriah, darlin' I miss you, I wish you were here, he thought. I need you so much, and want to just hold you one more time. He cried without sound until he was exhausted, and finally fell asleep, in the place where he had loved to sit with her.
By dawn, he was stiff and sore, and his eyes were still swollen. Before anyone else got up, he walked up the hill above the farm house, to the lone marker that he'd placed under a tree. He knelt in the abundant flowers that he'd planted there. It was the only place he had left, the only tangible reminder of her. He bowed his head and remembered. The first time she'd strutted down the ramp of her ship on Ord, the kindness in her eyes when he introduced himself. The mad scramble to find her ship that had been stolen, and his blaster. He wiped his eyes, but didn't stand. He thought of that first year, when she was afraid to love, him or anyone. The relief when she said she'd let him court her, and the joy when they'd married. The many missions and crew members they'd had, and then the family. Seeing Devin brought into the world, then Logan. Oricon, where they'd found and adopted Calypso. All the years they'd spent living and loving each other. Time became nonexistent as he went through his memories. Miriah happy, sad, angry and passionate.
By noon, the family had gathered at the farm house, but Corso paid no attention. The sisters were wistful, and Sarai tried to keep Calypso entertained. When Logan and Devin arrived within minutes of each other, there were loud cheers and exclamations of happiness, but none reached their father, who had draped himself over the headstone. When Devin asked his aunt Magdalane with the force, she merely inclined her head to the hill.
Logan was introducing Elara when Devin walked over to him. No words were needed, and they went together up the hill. The stood on either side of Corso, putting their hands on his shaking shoulders, offering the only comfort they could. After a bit Corso stood and hugged each of his sons, and they talked softly for a few minutes.
"Dad, I've brought Elara home," Logan told him, getting a ghost of a smile. "Come on down, everyone's here."
"I will, son, in a bit," he replied, before again going to his knees. Logan and Devin looked at each other over his bent head, and slowly made their way down the hill. Corso stayed there until nightfall, falling into an exhausted sleep, stretched out on what would have been his beloved wife's grave if they'd found a body.