They held hands, fingers intertwined, palms touching. It had been crushing, enlightening, and light.

Dying, that is.

Flashes of colored light surrounding, and then everything had gone black. For one frightening moment, or had it been forever, she thought she was alone and had left him, left them. Then she felt his hand slide into hers and she was relieved.

Regret hung over them as they watched, standing to the side and watching. Not interfering, not touching, but feeling.

Death didn't stop the feeling.

Didn't stop the pain and efforts of the living. Watching them, watching theirs.

Smiling, they watched.