000 Disclaimer, I own nothing...not even the kids as they are a product of two people owned by someone else :P 000 Thanks to everyone who reviewed so quickly! I already have this story completely written out (I think) which is a first for me and also means that there should be pretty regular updates (another first :D ) Plus massive thanks to Cha Oseye Tempest Thrain for betaing this for me :D 000

Time held no meaning. The days passed and still I felt nothing. Half of me was missing and I could feel nothing. I just walked around like a zombie, giving what little comfort I could offer to the kids and haphazardly organising Hoshi's funeral.

I could still see her though; I could still hear her as I moved round the house. I even found myself talking to her on a couple of occasions. If I could still hear her and still see her, then it meant she wasn't gone.

The kids were inconsolable. I told them first, I felt it was wrong to tell anyone else before them and I wanted to have time to grieve alone with them before anyone else stepped in the 'take care of things'.

I didn't tell them Hoshi had gone away. I told them the truth. I told them there had been a terrible accident. Harry didn't understand at first. He asked me when his Mummy was coming home; he asked if the Doctors were trying to make her better. I remember nearly crying then and there as I said "They tried Harry…they really tried…." Then he understood. Hoshi was never coming home.

I cried when I saw her dead body and I cried with my children as they found out. But I wouldn't allow myself to cry again.

After that there was just the funeral to get through, and then it would time to pick up the pieces and carry on with what remained of our lives.

I used to like funerals; I saw it as a final goodbye to the person in question, a time for letting go. But I didn't want to say goodbye and I didn't want to let go. I wanted to crawl into the nearest hole and hide-hide from all emotions and memories.

The kids sat with Hoshi's parents, Harry sobbing uncontrollably, Jonas staring straight ahead and studiously ignoring me. The guests gave me sympathetic looks as I made my way to the stand. I didn't look at the coffin nearby, I just stared straight ahead, my hands gripping hold of my sleeves tightly. I'm surprised the material didn't rip.

"I think Hoshi would be amazed to see so many people here." God, I hated speeches too, but no one was doing this one except me. I had no plan, I was doing my worst…."I guess she never really knew how many people cared about her…" This was painful. I wanted a hole to open up and swallow me. I felt guilty because I wasn't crying. People were staring at me expectantly, my mouth was moving but no words were coming out. They exchanged glances and I knew what they were saying. The usual 'poor man, he hasn't been the same' conversation that seemed to sweep any room I walked into. So I started talking. I told them how wonderful Hoshi was, how much I loved her, how much she would be missed, all the things you're supposed to.

But, at the back of the room I saw Hoshi smiling.

Nice speech Malcolm. You should really remember to plan them though. You've got the raving lunatic thing working for you at the moment.

I left the stand quickly and the funeral continued. Our friends from the Enterprise stood up and said their part, Hoshi's mother gave a highly emotional speech that left me with oozing wounds on the inside of my mouth from biting my cheeks so hard. But finally, her coffin disappeared. And the sounds of crying people reached my ears.

I hate funerals.

I hate the sympathy you receive. The knowing looks, the careful treatment…. I had the overwhelming urge to tell them all to bugger off. But I didn't. I was one of those people once too….

I never was good with emotions.

The wake afterwards was even worse. Jonas ran to his room, locked himself in and refused to come out. Ella cried because all these new people were scaring her. I couldn't blame her. She was in the arms of Ciona, our babysitter.

Hoshi had been nice to Ciona but I never knew they were close. Still, that didn't stop Ciona from sobbing like her heart had been ripped out leaving attractive make up smudges down her face. No wonder Ella was scared, Ciona looked like her face was melting away.

Harry had somehow blended in with the crowd of people and would give polite conversation when prompted.

Me?

Well, I had to speak to people. Received the sympathetic looks, hear the 'poor man' conversations and reminded every five seconds that Hoshi was a wonderful person. She was so friendly. She was a good friend.

Some of our old friends from the Enterprise were there, bearing apologies and messages of deepest sympathy from Archer and T'Pol, both of whom were on a mission and couldn't make it. Travis was supported by his fiancée, a nice young woman-I made polite conversation, avoided all eye contact and made my way round the room. I didn't want to spend a long time talking with them. They would want to talk about Hoshi and I couldn't get into that in front of all these people who were also dying to talk to me about Hoshi.

Still, Trip was with me every step of the way. He didn't say much and he didn't treat me like I was about to fall to pieces. He didn't treat me like some escapee from an insane asylum about to stick two breadsticks up my nose and sing 'I'm a little teacup'.

It was refreshing to say the least.

"Malcolm dear, how are you doing?" asked Mrs Peacock, next-door neighbour, probably spawned from Satan himself. Put on this Earth to state the obvious and smother anyone within a ten mile radius with her mothering personality. "Such a sad occasion." No shit Sherlock. "Hoshi was a wonderful woman. You must feel her loss dreadfully."

I could almost imagine Hoshi stood behind her pulling a face; Mrs Peacock looked at me, waiting for a response.

I just walked away from her; I walked away from the crowd, up the stairs and down to Jonas' room. Leaving Mrs Peacock floundering a moment before Trip engaged her in conversation.

"Jonas," I called through the door. "It's just me, open the door."

I wasn't sure I wanted him to open the door, but it wasn't about what I wanted. It was what he needed.

The door opened and Jonas pulled me inside before carefully locking the door again.

"Are they gone yet?" he asked.

I shook my head and watched him. He turned away from me and sat at his desk. He didn't move again. I was concerned, while Jonas had never been the loudest child he had a disconcerting habit of constantly fidgeting, he was never still, always on the move. To see him this still…well, it was unheard of and quite frankly extremely worrying.

"Did Mum know all those people?"

"Yeah."

"I thought she didn't like Mrs Peacock."

"She doesn't."

"Does anybody like Mrs Peacock?"

I nearly laughed. I sat down on his bed and allowed myself a small smile. "Mr Peacock must like her or they wouldn't have had David."

"That doesn't mean he likes her," said Jonas firmly.

"I guess it doesn't."

Silence. Horrible, horrible silence followed. Jonas didn't move once. Did he want to speak to me? After all, Hoshi had covered the emotional stuff. Let's face it, emotions were not my strong point. Ever.

"Jonas?"

He took a deep breath. "I don't want to go down."

"I'm not going to make you," I assured him. I wasn't either; I didn't want to go down myself-not till everyone had gone home.

"Dad?"

I looked at him expectantly and waited.

Someone knocked on the door. "Malcolm dear, Ella's vomited on the carpet." Oh beautiful, beautiful mental image. "She needs you."

So did Jonas.

"You'd better go then," said Jonas.

"I'll be back later."

I unlocked the door nearly killing Mrs Peacock as I hurried down the stairs. Ella held out her arms to me sobbing. Ciona had hold of her and Ella was in a state of terror. She buried her head in my shoulder and I carried her away. No doubt someone would clean the floor to help 'the poor man'.

The house was beginning to clear. The lounge smelt like disinfectant and no one seemed that eager to stay. Even Mrs Peacock gave in. Soon, only Hoshi's parents and Trip remained.

And I as returned to the group I could hear Hoshi say Now that wasn't so hard was it Malcolm? Shame about the puke though. Still, nice job. I would've liked to know so many people cared.

One hurdle had been knocked down, just a hundred million more to go. Talking with Hoshi's parents wasn't going to be easy. Trip seemed to realise I wanted him to go. He came over clapped a hand on my shoulder, all but ordered me to call him later then left.

Mrs Sato had Harry in her lap, the picture of carefully constructed calm. Mr Sato's face was puffy and red but he wasn't crying.

"It was a lovely service Malcolm," said Mrs Sato her voice sounding strained.

"She wouldn't have wanted to be buried."

"No, she wouldn't."

Oh yeah, Malcolm the great and wonderful conversationalist was making his debut. At this point I wanted to curl up in a ball, cry and forget this day had happened. But no. The one thing you have to do when someone dies, is talk. Talk and talk and talk and talk and then talk some more, because in the land of sugar and treacle talking about Hoshi doesn't make me want to physically rip my own heart out jump on it a few times then kick it into the road for good measure.

I don't think I could cope with feeling that pain again. Better bottling than collapsing.

I can't cry again.

The uncomfortable silence continued, Ella fiddled with the buttons on my jacket still looking decidedly pale. Jonas still hadn't put in an appearance.

And the faces of those at the funeral seemed to drift away as I stared at a photo of Hoshi and I on the wall. I was barely following the conversation, stilted as it was.

I hate funerals.

As I lay in the seemingly huge double bed a thought occurred to me. I was alone now. Free to grieve without the prying eyes of the entire world. But I couldn't. I couldn't just let go of my tight hold.

I shook off the covers and stood up. I'd go check on the kids, make sure they were still alive and sleeping. First stop, Ella.

She was fast asleep, a perfect miniature of her mother. I watched her a moment before ducking into Harry's room.

Harry's room was a minefield. With every step you were liable to step on a toy soldier or pieces of Lego or discarded crayons and bit's of paper. No matter how careful I was I usually ended up standing on everything with a sharp pointy stick part and swearing a blue streak under my breath.

This time however, I didn't stand on anything as I picked my way through the mess. I panicked for a second. I couldn't see Harry anywhere. It was only when I looked harder that I realised he was in fact bunched up at the bottom of his bed, sighing softly in his sleep.

Jonas too was sleeping.

So how come I wasn't sleeping? I'd spent many a night on my own in bed. But tonight sleep didn't come easily.

And when it finally came I was awoken mere seconds later by a tearful Harry shaking me.

"Daddy," he sobbed holding out his arms.

I lifted him up and held him as he cried. Was his nightmare about Hoshi? Or the usual faceless people that haunted my son's dreams? I never found out, Harry wouldn't tell me.

But I didn't get anymore sleep that night.

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