If any of y'all are familiar with my fic Fumetsu Mai, then you might know that I was working on a reverse version of that fic for a short while before I scrapped the idea and took it down. Welp, I still have the first chapter and here it is. It's TxP but it's a sad fic that features character death so bear that in mind. Enjoy the read.

The atmosphere in the bedroom was dark, heavy, and solemn; filled with grief and heartache. Even the downpour outside seemed muted by the incredible amount of grief flooding the space. Once a private paradise where love was shared in intimate ways, where laughter and smiles seemingly never ceased, where children were cuddled and kissed… all of that was a distant memory now.

A distant, torturous memory.

A single ray of pale moonlight slipped through the thin space between the heavy black out curtains, tracing a path across the thickly carpeted floor, up the side of a king-sized bed that was unkempt and in disarray, and across the pale cheek of a man who felt like, for the past two months, he'd been burning at the stake at an immeasurable degree of heat. The moonlight touched dingy lavender locks, dyeing them white in its wake. The shadow of tear-encrusted lashes rested against his cheek, destined to blink away the tears that seemed to never stop falling. The shadow of the raindrops on the windowpane rested on his face, like tears themselves.

There was pain.

Every breath. Every beat of his heart was agony in his veins. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but lie there, curled up in a ball, clutching her necklace like a lifeline. Through the bit of space between his thumb and forefinger he could see the four red stars floating within the amber orb, suspended on a strand of only the finest gold. Because she only deserved the best. Anything lesser would be blasphemy.

As he held the trinket, his mind was filled with the echo of her tinkling, jubilant laughter, forever etched in his memories, never to fade. She'd been so happy, so exuberant when he'd clasped the golden chain around her neck. Her smile was as blinding as ever, her eyes aglow with joy as she held the miniature four star ball up so she could examine its authenticity, it's beauty… even though her own far outshown it.

At least he thought so.

Every time he told her that, she'd laugh and say he was only biased, though, judging by her reddened cheeks, she was quite pleased with the fact that he thought so highly of her.

Why?

The needy cry of an infant in distress caught Trunks' attention, and he sat up, completely ignorant of his disheveled appearance, blood shot eyes, sallow cheeks, and the dark marks beneath his eyes from a night fraught with nightmares of the beautiful wife who'd never again grace their marital bed with her presence. His Pan-chan…

"Trunks," a soft hand touched his face, bringing him out of his slumber, "Trunks, babe, wake up." The drowsy man opened his eyes and knuckled the sleep from them, a yawn spilling from his lips. Pan laughed and tugged on his hands, "we need to get to the hospital."

"Hospital?" the Briefs questioned, "why the hospital, why can't we just stay here and sleep?" As he said this, he began shimmying down into the bed, getting back into a comfortable sleeping position before the efforts of his wife woke him completely.

"Because," Pan snatched his hand and laid it on her swollen abdomen, "my water just broke and the twins have made it clear that they're not going to wait for us much longer."

Her words were like a jolt of pure electricity. One second, he was on the verge of drifting back into dream land, and the next… he was phasing around the room, faster than the human eye could follow, dressing himself, throwing a set of clothing for Pan onto the bed, and fetching the bag she'd packed for this moment.

Pan watched his humorous display, "you'd think I hadn't done this three times before already…"

A small pain speared through her head, and she frowned, placing a hand on her forehead. As quickly as it came, the pain had faded, and she wondered if she'd actually felt it. Ignoring the occurrence entirely, she waved her hands to get her husband's attention, giggling softly at the wild look in his eyes. Her husband had one hell of a tendency to overreact.

The bedraggled, miserable excuse of a man stood in the cozy darkened room, tears flowing down his face. The walls, painted a cheery pale yellow and patterned with bumblebees, was a sore reminder of his recent loss as he shuffled his way to the white crib, coming to the aid of the little innocent creature within.

Little Kiseki Briefs squirmed in her pale yellow baby grow, tiny fists waving about as she wailed plaintively to be held. She was beautiful, a carbon copy of her mother, but her familiar beauty was also the reason why it was so hard for her father to hold her. His eyes drifted to a space beside her crib, large enough for another crib to fit, and he forced himself to scoop the tiny infant up as a fresh wave of agony rippled through his soul.

"Alright, Dr. Briefs," the ultrasound technician spoke softly, working the ultrasound transducer over Pan's swollen belly, "both of the babies are in active position, meaning your chances of a vaginal birth are much higher now. How are you feeling so far?"

"The contractions are starting to sting… and my head's hurting a little bit," Pan responded with a small smile, "other than that… I'm doing pretty well." Trunks, who was perched on the edge of her bed, grabbed her hand, "you've never had a headache during labor when you had the boys…"

"It's not uncommon, Mr. Briefs," the technician smiled at his concern as she cleaned Pan's stomach off, "your wife's body is coming to terms with the fact that it's about to give birth to two little babies. It can be a bit overwhelming for your brain, even if you've done it before."

"Yeah, Trunks, relax," Pan teased, kissing his hand, "I've done this before, so I have a pretty good idea about how it's supposed to go."

It wasn't supposed to go like this…

"Papa?" Six year old Geta Briefs stood in the doorway of the dark nursery, dressed in his favorite fire truck pajamas and clutching the stuffed elephant his mother had gotten for him for his first Christmas, "Papa, are you okay?" The young boy looked just like his mother, save for his eyes, which were slanted like his father's, but periwinkle like his maternal grandmother's.

"I-I'm fine, kiddo," Trunks managed to speak, managing a weak smile, "just… got something in my eye." In his arms, Kiseki had gone still and quiet in his arms and was now staring up at him with those expressive brown eyes that she and his second oldest son shared with their mother. Once shared.

"Both your eyes?" Geta was unconvinced, and crossed his arms over his chest in a manner reminiscent of his paternal grandfather, "you were crying, Papa, I know you were."

"Geta-"

"Mama wouldn't want you to cry," the six year-old sounded wise beyond his years as he spoke his piece, "she'd tell you to stop being a Princess and then she'd punch you in the arm. But it's okay with me if you cry," his lilac eyes looked glossy, "I cry sometimes, too, but only when Icky can't see, because then he'll cry and I don't like when he cries."

The middle Briefs child, Kaiden Icarus "Icky" Briefs, was a lavender haired carbon copy of his maternal grandfather, but with lavender hair and chocolate brown eyes. The two year-old was currently in the bed, too young to truly understand what was going on, but old enough to ask questions when the opportunity arose.

"Come here, little man," Trunks lowered himself into the larger of the two rocking chairs in the room, shifting his infant daughter over into one arm and gestured for his son to sit on the knee opposite that arm, "come sit on my knee." The chibi, clutching his plushy, padded across the room and perched himself on his father's knee. Once he was comfortable, he laid his head against his Papa's chest and listened to his heartbeat.

"Do you understand why Mama had to go away?" The Briefs asked in a soft, gentle voice. Geta nodded, "yeah, she got real sick and had to go to where really sick people go to get better. Bubbles went with her to keep her company."

"Yeah," Trunks murmured, "and you know why they can't come back?"

"Because we need the Dragon Balls to bring 'em back, and we don't have those anymore because we used 'em up," the six year-old voice wavered with sorrow, "we should've used 'em better."

"Yeah…" the downtrodden man bit his lip as tears once again overflowed his lower lids, "we should've."

Pan's labored breathing was the loudest noise in the room as she bore down, sweat pouring over her body, running in her eyes and irritating them. Thin wisps of hair were glued to her forehead and cheeks, having come loose from the bun on top of her head. Trunks stood alongside the bed, letting her squeeze the life of his hand to combat the pain.

"Come on, Panny," Marron, who was delivering the twins, coached, "her head's almost completely through, just get the shoulders out and you'll be home free, sweetie."

"I feel like I need to throw up," Pan wheezed between pushes, "my head's fucking exploding, I swear… Oh Kami…"

"That's not normal, Marron," Trunks' voice was panicked, "what's wrong with her?" His attention shifted back to his wife as she ripped her hand away from his to clutch at her hair, tugging and crying out in agony. Videl wiped her face with a damp towel, "Panny, wha—"

Pan gave a powerful, agonized scream, and the cries of their firstborn twin were forgotten in the din as Pan's body began to shiver and tremble violently. Marron handed the crying baby off to a nurse, "she's seizing! Trunks, roll her onto her side, now! Someone get a crash cart in here!"

The blonde woman's orders came into Trunks' mind and left just as quickly. The man was in a haze of shock as he watched his wife's pregnant body flop and shake on the delivery bed, unable to truly process what was happening. One of her eyelids drooped as Videl took over, rolling her daughter onto her side just as she began spitting up bile over and over.

Marron's shrill, authoritative voice was distant as she shouted orders. Pan was carefully placed on the crash cart as soon as it arrived, and she was wheeled away to be properly assessed. A firm slap against his cheek brought the dazed man out of his trance, and he blinked at Videl in surprised, "what…?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" his mother in-law hissed lowly, "Pan was seizing and you didn't do anything, you just stood there with a blank look on your face! She could've died, hell, she COULD be dying as we speak, and you didn't do a damn thing to help her! What kind of husband are you?"

Videl hadn't spoken to him since. Gohan was still somewhat civil, but it was clear to the Briefs that his father in-law was not impressed by his lack of action. He was angry at himself for freezing at the sight of his wife in the throes of a powerful seizure. And he called himself a warrior. He could handle blood on the battlefield, but his wife… he couldn't do anything…

She probably wondered why you didn't help, a snide voice hissed from the back of his head, imagine how hurt she was, completely helpless and forced to watch as her husband stood by and did nothing to help her?

You let her die…

You let her and your son die…

Trunks shook himself awake at once, frowning at his position. He was still in the rocking chair, and the sky was still dark with night. Geta had drifted off to sleep against his chest, and Kiseki was safely nestled in his other arm, also asleep. A muttered curse left his countenance, he'd been having that same nightmare every night for the past two months since…

Since Pan and their unborn baby boy died on the operating table.

Marron came out of the OR area, her head hung low as she went to face the masses. The moment she emerged, Videl, Gohan, Trunks, and Bra had already surrounded her, and were asking questions about Pan and the twins at a mile a minute. She waved her hands to silence them, "calm down… I don't want to have to say this again."

She looked up with bloodshot eyes, "We got Pan on the operating table for an emergency cesarean, the seizing had stopped, but the second baby had gone into distress and… the umbilical cord was already around his neck… there was nothing I could do when I finally got to him. He'd already died in the womb. Pan – Oh Kami," Marron choked on a sob, "she – the headaches… they weren't just any headaches… she had an aneurysm in her brain, the headaches and seizing were caused by it rupturing. She was gone before we could get her closed up. Trunks," her icy blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears, "I am so sorry. So, so sorry…"

"Wha… what?" Trunks stuttered, "Marron, what are you talking about? Pan's… she's fine," he insisted, "she's okay, you're just playing a really sick joke on us, aren't you?" he questioned, "just some doctor humor between you and her, right?"

Marron's eyes widened, "Trunks, I'm not—"

"She's not dead," his voice had begun to take on a somewhat crazed quality, "Panny's not dead. I can still feel her ki—" He suddenly choked as his spread senses failed to come into contact with Pan's vibrant, joyful ki, "I can't… I can't sense her…"

"Trunks," Goten came up behind him, eyes bloodshot, "Trunks man, come on… don't be like this."

"Where is she?" The Briefs demanded, golden energy beginning to crackle around his form, "where? Marron, this isn't funny!"

"I'm not lying, Trunks, I swear," the blonde woman sobbed, "I did everything I could to help her, it just wasn't good enough and I'll never forgive myself for letting her die—"

Uub placed himself between his wife and the agitated saiyan Prince, mainly for her protection, "Trunks, I'm sorry man, but she's not lying. That would be incredibly low, and you know Marron's not like that at all."

"Come on, bud," Goten grabbed one of his best friend's arms, gently tugging on him, "let's go somewhere else, somewhere without innocent people. I know you're upset but this isn't the place to lose your shit."

"No…" Trunks shook his head slowly, feeling numb, "she's… no, no, no… she's Panny… she's too tough, too strong… no…"

"Come on, boy," Vegeta's gruff voice was strangely lacking in the condescending department, "listen to the — Goten," he corrected himself, "this is not the right place for you to unleash your emotions."

Goku grabbed onto his youngest son and Vegeta grabbed onto his shoulder, "we need to take him off of the planet. He needs a place with no population."

"Vegeta? Why does he need to get off of the planet?" Bulma's voice was tearful as she held and comforted Chichi.

"Saiyans mate for life, Bulma," the sound of her name of his tongue was foreign, "you can only begin to imagine what he's going through, now that his mate is gone."

Videl, who'd been oddly silent all this time, released a mournful wail, collapsing against Gohan's chest. Her loud pained cries, the cries of a mother who'd lost her only child, would haunt Trunks' nightmares for the rest of his days…

"Papa?" This time, when Trunks awoke, he was faced with his six year-old son standing before him, holding his plushy and rubbing his eyes, "you fell sleep in the rocking chair with Kiza and me." The skies were lightening with sunrise and the yellow bumblebee-dabbled walls were easier to make out.

"Oh man," Trunks whispered, rubbing his eyes, "I'm sorry champ."

"It's okay, you needed the cuddles," the chibi chirped, smiling wryly, and then laughed sheepishly as his stomach gave an ominous gurgle, "I'm hungry, Papa." Trunks' stomach gave an answering grumble of displeasure.

"Alrighty," Trunks nodded, "let's go see if we have any food." His eyes lingered on the walls as he carefully laid the sleeping Kiseki back in her crib, and then followed Geta out of the nursery, his mind filled with bittersweet reminiscence.

"What color do you want for the nursery?"

Trunks pushed the basket down the paint aisle of a nearby hardware store. Two different, though small, index fingers were looped through the belt loops on the back of his jeans, and a smaller hand was grasping the leg of his jeans, near the knee. One of the fingers belonged to his six year-old son, the other belonged to his six months pregnant wife. The littlest traveler, not counting the two in his wife's womb, was his two year-old son.

"Yellow," Pan said at once, "not YELLOW yellow, but a pale yellow… like the sun at high noon."

"Sunbeam, then," Trunks identified the shade on the color indicator he had procured from a stand, "Geta, can you get that," he pointed to the proper color, "can of paint and put it in the basket?"

"Sure, Papa." The eager chibi hurried to do as his father asked, "I got it."

"Uh, we need more than one can, babe," Pan tugged on his belt loop pointedly, "and get some black paint too. I wanna do bumblebees on the walls…"

"We don't have any more food, Dad," Geta closed the fridge, "Grandma Videl and Aunt Bra cooked it all for us. Auntie Bra said she'd bring some more food today, though."

It wasn't surprising that Trunks was unable to recall his sister promising to bring groceries for them. In the wake of falling into a deep depression, his mother, sister, and mother in-law had stepped up to the plate when it came to making sure the kids were fed, clean, and got to and from school when they were supposed to. He just couldn't cope with it all.

After… after Pan died, there was a wave of eager responses from the women who'd desperately wanted to be in her place. They were happy that Pan was dead, something that completely turned Trunks off from them, even though he'd been completely absorbed in his grief at the time. He had faint, choppy memories of seeing the women on the news, gushing about the death of his wife, spouting their 'plots' to get in his pants and his wallets.

"Come on, little man," Trunks felt himself speaking, "get your brother up and dressed, we're gonna go out for breakfast today." The grief was somewhat less today, he didn't feel the urge to go back to his room and hole himself up in there. He was going to try and live for his kids today, even if it was torturous for him.

Pan's funeral was the only event, in the past two months, that he'd dragged himself out of bed to attend. His sister made Goten stay in his bedroom with him to make sure he got himself dressed and cleaned up properly beforehand…

"This is so wrong," Goten mumbled as he tied Trunks' tie, "Pan was the youngest of us all… why the fuck do we have to put her in the ground first?" His best friend was studiously ignoring his words, looking everywhere but at his friend, trying to block out his hearing.

"Hey," the Son nudged his friend gently, "I'm sorry, man, I just," he blinked back tears, "she was so vibrant and full of life. Sure, she was a pest at times, but I still loved her like crazy."

"I know," Trunks responded, "it's only been two weeks, bud, it's really hard to hear."

*The Funeral*

She was stunning.

It was clear that Bra had a say-so in the preparations for what Pan would look like. It was hard to tell that, just two weeks ago, she'd died in surgery. She looked as though she were sleeping peacefully. Bra had chosen a lavender sundress, one that Trunks had bought for her, and a simple pair of white sandals. She knew her dear friend wouldn't be pleased if she went all out for her, so she kept it simple. Her hair was curled gently, lying against the white cushion in waves. Her hands, folded on her abdomen held mementos of their children. The lock of hair from Geta's first haircut, a swatch of fabric from the blanket that they'd brought Kaiden home from the hospital in, and the pink cap that baby Kiseki was given after she was first born.

At the head of Pan's casket, nestled into a tiny, infant sized casket, was the son that they'd never named. His cheeks were chubby and rounded, and there was a tuft of blue hair on the top of his head. He looked just like his father.

"I can't do this," Trunks whispered as he stood in the doorway leading into the sanctuary of the simple church they'd picked for the funeral, "I can't… I don't want to see them like this. She wouldn't want me to."

"Trunks," Bra's voice was soft, "she's your wife. If you two switched roles, I'm pretty sure she'd muster up the courage to go to your funeral, no matter how much it hurt."

"She was always stronger than me," the grieving man responded in a numb voice, "I'm sorry, but I just can't." Before his sister could stop him, Trunks had rushed out of the church and, as soon as he was outside, burst into flight, completely ignorant of the people watching below. It was this action that cemented Videl's resolve to never speak to him again…

"Hey, kids, Aunt Bra was busy so I brought the…" Videl trailed off as she entered the kitchen, finding her son in-law there, staring off into space, "groceries. Trunks." Her voice was cold and completely devoid of emotion.

Trunks nodded at his former mother in-law, "I'm taking the kids out to breakfast."

"Oh, so now you're going to start acting like a father?" the grieving mother snapped, "please tell me, oh great one, what brought on this sudden change of heart?" her words were positively drowning in bitter sarcasm.

"It's about time I started acting like a father, isn't it?" he responded softly, "and what do you care? You hate me, so what's it to you?" Videl's periwinkle eyes became ice, "it's not fair that you got to spend the last two months wallowing in your grief while the rest of us got to pick up after you."

"She was the love of my life," Trunks snapped in return, "what the hell did you expect me to do, just go on with my life as if she'd never existed? I loved her more than anything and now she's been ripped away from me… I didn't know how to cope, and for that I am sorry, but that's no excuse for the way you've treated me for the past two months. You're not the only one who lost her!"

"You did nothing," Videl spat, "nothing to save her. She was lying there, seizing, her life was leaching away and you, you call her the love of your life, but when she was dying… you did nothing to help her. You just stood there with a blank fucking look on your face while Marron screamed at you to help. So you can excuse me if I wouldn't give a crap if you keeled over tomorrow."

"You act like I'm the one who gave her the aneurysm," Trunks came back swinging, "well, I didn't so stop blaming me for something that was out of everyone's control!"

"Stop!" Geta burst back into the kitchen, wearing a pair of jeans and halfway into a t-shirt, "leave Papa alone, Grandma!" The chibi placed himself between his angry Grandmother and equally irate father, "Papa hurted when Mama and Bubbles went away just like you did, so don't yell at him."

"Geta," Videl opened her arms to her grandson, and was sorely disappointed when he hugged his father's leg, pressing his face into his thigh, "no. You hurted Papa's feelings."

The woman scowled at Trunks, "so you're turning the kids against me, too? Letting my daughter die just wasn't enough for you, was—"

"You actually believe that I wanted her to die?" There was no anger in Trunks' voice, just disbelief and hurt, "Videl, how could you possibly… how could you even think that? And why would you even say something like that in front of Geta?"

It was a strange, but powerful hurt. To hear this woman, who'd babysat him when he was a kid, say that she wouldn't care if he died, that she actually thought that he wanted Pan to die… He felt it all the way in his soul. It wasn't nearly as powerful as the loss of his wife, but it still packed one hell of a punch. He stared at Videl strangely, he felt like he didn't know her anymore. Losing Pan had changed her, and certainly not for the better.

"I…" the wife of Gohan trailed off awkwardly, "I should go." She laid the capsule of groceries on the counter and fled the kitchen in haste. The front door slammed behind her, and Geta pulled away from his father's pants leg to look up at him, "are you okay, Papa?"

"I'm… I'll be okay, Geta-kun," he stopped himself from saying 'fine' because he knew he was anything but, "let's get Kaiden and Kiseki dressed so we can go get a bite to eat, alright?"

"Kay."

*a little later*

Kiseki Chiara Briefs was lying on her changing table, playing with her toes while her father rummaged through her drawers, searching for some decent clothes for her to wear. By decent, he meant something other than a baby grow. Her sweet little gurgles brought the hint of a smile to Trunks' face as he finally unearthed a pair of baby jeans and a little ruffled top for his infant daughter to wear. The issue now, however, was getting it on her. She seemed utterly content with playing with her toes.

"Come on, Kiza-chan," Trunks crooned, "we gotta get you dressed up for breakfast."

The baby girl cooed at him and opened her little gummy mouth to put one of her feet in. Rolling his eyes, Trunks gently moved her feet away from her mouth and began fitting them into the legs of the little jeans. Kiseki was content, if clapping her little hands together could be considered as content. Once the jeans were on, Trunks dropped a little kiss on her tummy, making her squeal.

"Up you go," he whispered, pulling her into a sitting position, "let's get the shirt on." As soon as he got the shirt on her head, the little one began to whimper, and, moving as quickly and carefully as possible, the father got the neckline down over her little head so she could see again. When she saw him, a blinding, gummy grin lit up her little face and he kissed her nose affectionately.

The more he interacted with the children, Trunks began to feel like their presence was something of a soothing balm and he wondered idly why he didn't think of this sooner. The pain he felt, while constant, was easier to ignore when faced with his beautiful children. He felt incredibly calm as he held Kiza in his arms, cradled against his chest. He could feel her tiny hand grasping a handful of his shirt as he packed her diaper bag and found the capsule with her car seat in it.

Maybe he could do this… maybe it wouldn't be so hard after all.

*Breakfast*

The parking lot of Keane's Roadway Diner was mostly empty when Trunks pulled his dark blue hover car into one of the spaces out front. In the passenger seat next to him, Geta peeked over the dashboard, trying to get a good look at his surroundings. Kaiden, in a toddler car seat in the back, had gone back to sleep the moment the car was in the air, the soft sound lulling him into sleep. Baby Kiseki was burbling quietly in her seat, slapping her little palms against the belt buckle that held her in place.

"Your mother and I used to eat here all the time when we were younger," Trunks told Geta softly, eyes warm with unshed tears from all the memories they'd shared in this simple diner, "they've got some really good food, and even better people."

"Trunks, you know what I've never done?" A nineteen year-old Pan inquired, slurping away at her homemade strawberry malt. She was fresh out of her first year of college and now carried a cool air of maturity that she didn't have a year back in high school.

"What have you never done, oh wise one?" Trunks drawled in reply, slurping on his own vanilla malt, "get a tattoo or a naughty piercing? Oh, wait, you already did that first one." The Son girl flushed in response, and her boyfriend of one year laughed heartily at her expense.

"No," she whined, covering said tattoo with her hand, "I've never," she paused, glancing around the sparsely populated diner with shifty eyes, as if she was afraid the diner had grown ears, "skipped out on a bill before. I wanna do it today, though."

"And here I was, thinking you'd gone off to college and came back all mature and adult-like," the saiyan Prince chortled, "and now you're talking about skipping out on bills. High school ended last year, missy." He stopped short at the sparkling brown eyes and pouty pink lips she displayed to the most powerful extent, "Trunks-kun… pleeeeeeaaaaaassssseeeeeee?"

"Oh, I hate when you do that," Trunks grumbled, "fine. You head out to the car; I'll wait for a minute or two and follow you." Pan squealed softly and lunged across the table to kiss him in gratitude, "you're the best, babe."

The saiyan royal rolled his eyes as his girlfriend 'subtly' slipped out of the booth and tiptoed across the diner to the entrance. When the door swung shut behind her, Pan turned around with a huge Son grin on her face. She flashed him two thumbs up and scurried across the lot to get in his car to wait for him. As he rose and made his way to the exit, he stopped one of the waitresses and handed her the tab, the money for their meal, and a generous tip.

"Could you do me a favor and run out of the diner behind me like I just skipped out on the bill?" He questioned, blushing slightly, "my crazy girlfriend wanted to see what it was like to skip out on a bill, but we're not going to let her know that she actually didn't skip out on it."

The girl laughed, "alright," and pocketed the tab and the money. Trunks shot her a wink and ran across the diner and out of the door, mockingly shielding his head as the girl ran out of the door behind him, chucking her order pad at him and yelling as he lithely slid into the driver's seat, the car was already on, courtesy of Pan, and peeled out.

"That was so cool!" Pan fist-pumped happily, "though," she sobered up, "I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to get chased out, babe. Oh, well, at least you tried," and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, "you're the best boyfriend I could ever ask for."

(A/N: The skipping out on the bill thing was borrowed from One Tree Hill, season five.)

"Hey, planning on skipping out any bills today, Mr. Briefs?" A kind voice asked, breaking the man from his memories.

In the midst of his haze, he'd unbuckled Kiseki and Kaiden, and made his way inside of the diner. The woman who'd spoken was Marlowe Keane, the girl who'd agreed to his little plot all those years back. Her family owned the diner, so it made sense that she was still working there, probably as manager. She looked only a bit older, the only signs of aging being the little laugh lines around her kind sapphire blue eyes, and the engagement ring and wedding band adorning her left ring finger.

"Oh, hey Marlowe," Trunks greeted weakly, "great to see you. Just thought I'd bring the kids by so they could see what's so great about this place."

"You're not fooling me," she told him at once, straight to the point, "I see that look in your eye. I already know what happened and I'm not gonna push you. Come on in and take a load off; I'll get your usual whipped up for you in a jiffy, alright?"

"Thanks, Marls," the lavender haired Prince nodded in thanks, "what about the kids, though?"

"Well," the brown haired woman tapped her chin in thought, "I know this little one can't have solids just yet," she gently patted Kiseki on her back, "what about these two gentlemen, here? Hey," she knelt down to Geta and Kaiden's level, "what do you two big strong men like to eat for breakfast, hm? Pancakes? Sausage? Toast?"

"I like pancakes, Miss," Kaiden's voice was soft and polite, just like his maternal grandfather, "and sausage, thank you."

"Goodness, you talk really well for being so small," Marlowe smiled, "how old are you, sweetheart?"

"Two and half, Miss." The lavender haired chibi held up two fingers, as well as one awkwardly bent finger to get his point across. The brown haired waitress turned to Geta, "and you, handsome, what do you like to eat for breakfast?"

"Everything," the eldest chibi blurted out, and then flushed deeply, "I mean, I like pancakes, and eggs, and bacon, and toast, and—"

"I gotcha, sweet pea," the woman ruffled his hair and stood up, eyeing Trunks, "they got an appetite like you and the Misses?" The father of three nodded at once, "yep. Geta especially. Kai's not so bad just yet."

"You're going to be in some trouble when they get in their teens." Marlowe laughed, "I'll get your order put in. Your regular table's open, too."

"Trunks, someone's going to see you," Pan hissed, "you're not being subtle at all!"

"Calm down, Pan-chan," Trunks responded, working the tip of the blunt knife against the wooden table, "we eat here so often, we might as well leave our mark on the place." He finished carving a rather crude 'T' and began to work on a 'V', "calm down, I'm not hurting anyone."

"You're ridiculous." She whispered, peering over his arm to watch him work, "and cheesy. Ridiculously cheesy."

"You love me for it, though."

"I know. It kinda sucks."

"I bet it does," Trunks mumbled in response to the young Pan in his memory, running his fingers over the carving in the table, preserved forever beneath a layer of laminate varnish, "wow, it's still here." Beneath shiny surface was a crudely carved heart and, in the middle of the heart lay some equally crude letters.

T.V.B & P.V.S
ALWAYS

"Dad," Geta noticed the carving, "you and Mom did this?"

"Yep," Marlowe appeared at that moment, toting a tray of drinks for them, "My Poppa must've kicked up such a fuss when he saw it, but Momma and I talked him out of getting the table replaced. We thought you'd like to have it here, just for the two of you."

Trunks felt his throat get thick, and his eyesight began to blur with tears until he could no longer see the tip of his finger tracing the carving. A small smile tugged at the edge of his lips and, for a moment, he could hear Pan's lovely voice in his head. His heart felt warm and light as she spoke to him in a gentle tone.

"I'm right here," she whispered, and the warmth in his heart intensified, "and I'll always be here. I might not be there physically, but you know what I mean. I know it hurts, and it's going to hurt a lot in the future, but you can't let it break you down again. Just because I stopped living doesn't mean you have to. I love you."

"Dad?" Geta's voice broke the reverie, and Trunks blinked himself back into reality, "y-yeah, Geta?"

"You're crying again, Dad," his voice was reproachful, "Mom's gonna kick your butt."

"No," the Briefs shook his head, glancing up towards the ceiling, "I think she knows I'm not crying because she's gone."

"Well, would you look at that," Marlowe let the blinds next to their booth up, "it's been nothing but clouds and rain for the past couple of months, and now the sun's shining again… Amazing."

"You know what, Trunks," Pan laid her head on his chest, "I think sunshine is the purest form of happiness. Every time I see the sun shining, I can't help but smile."

"Well," Trunks whispered, kissing the top of her head as they lay in the sun-filled meadow, "I guess you're my personal sunshine, because every time I see you, I always have a smile on my face."

As Trunks glanced outside to take in the sun for the first time in ages, the sharp glint of the light reflecting off of the wet pavement blinded him for a moment, and he felt the same way he did whenever he saw Pan smiling at him. Blinded by beauty.

It would take some time to undo the damage he'd caused when he shut everyone out to focus on his own grief, but if the sun was anything to him, it was a good omen. A smile so large it hurt formed on his cheeks, and he wiped the remnants of the tears away and faced his kids. They needed him now more than ever, and he'd be damned if he was going to fail them. Not again.

Pan's laughter drifted through his mind and, for once, it didn't make him cry. It only made his smile a bit wider.

Idk why I stopped working on it, I guess I lost inspiration or whatever, but it's in pretty good shape. Maybe I'll play with it a little more once I finish some of these WIPs of mine lol.

*~*CloudSpires1295*~*