The day of Amanda and James's funeral finally arrived. Abigail spent most of the morning getting Ryan ready, and herself. She was wearing a black knee length dress with spaghetti straps and a black cardigan of her mothers over the top. Ryan she had dressed in a long sleeve black shirt with his smartest jeans. He didn't have any black trousers, but she wasn't in the mood to go shopping for more. Looking in the mirror, she sighed. Her hair was curled up into a tight bun, but after a few moments of looking at her relfection, she pulled the pins holding it together out and let it fall down past her shoulders.

"Honey, you look fine." Ben said, coming up behind her and putting his arms around her waist.

"It's not that," She whispered. "I looked like my mother with my hair up like that, it...it freaked me out a little bit for a moment." She admitted.

"Don't worry," He whispered to her reassuringly. "It's going to be fine." He hugged her close, but pulled away rather shocked.

"What is it?" She asked.

"I don't believe it." He said, quite distantly.

"Ben?" She started to get quite worried.

"This is unbelievable."

"Ben, you're scaring me!" She said quietly, "What is it?"

"You gotta see this!"

"See what?"

He took hold of her shoulders and turned her sideways. He then stood behind her again, but this time, his hands rested either side of her stomach. "Look." Ben told her. Still confused, she looked, but saw nothing.

He took her hand in his and placed it at the top of her stomach. "You don't feel anything, right?" He asked. She shook her head. "How about now?" He guided her hand slowly down her stomach. "You feel anything?"

This time she felt it. She felt her skin rising and then falling again as he trailed their hands down her stomach. "Oh my god." She breathed. It was a wonderful feeling, it filled every inch of her with a warmth she had never experienced before. She smiled, unable to do anything else. Bens hand moved from resting atop hers so their hands were now side by side. "This is...amazing." She said breathlessly. No other words would bring themselves forward at the moment.

"This just makes it seem so real." Ben said, completely struck by the bump they could feel. It was small, very small, unnoticeable unless you knew to look for it, but it was still there.

"Ben." Abigail whispered. "Thank you. Thank you for giving me this." She said, as her thumb rubbed her stomach.

"You are very very welcome," He replied.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by Michael's quiet voice. "Abs, it's time to go. Are you ready?"

"Yes. We'll be down in a moment."

Abigail sighed. "I can't do this." She said shakily. The whole week she had wanted to get the day over with, to pay her respects to her parents and let them lie in peace, together. Now the day had arrived, she didn't want it to happen. She turned to face Ben. "I can't go through with this, Ben, I can't." She said, suddenly panicked.

He placed his hands on her upper arms. "Yes, you can Abi, you can do this." He told her.

"I don't want to do this. Why did this have to happen?"

"I know it hurts, Abi, I know it does. But we can't change what's happened. If we could, we would, but we can't." Ben explained. "Remember, you aren't on your own today. You have Michael, and as much as you don't like the idea, you have Marcus. And you have me as well, and anything you want me to do for you, anything at all, I want you to tell me, all right?"

She nodded and mumbled something that he couldn't understand. He embraced her, and then kissed the top of her head before they left the room together.

Ryan was back to being quiet and distant again today. In the car on the way to the church, he sat on Abigail's lap, refusing to sit anywhere else. No one argued with him, though, and Abigail welcomed her brother into her embrace. Abigail, Ryan and Ben sat in the back of Elsa and Danny's car, with Michael and Danny upfront. Elsa had gone with Marcus in his car. Halfway through the journey though, Ryan started sniffing the air eagerly.

"Ryan?" Abigail asked uncertainly. He leaned against Abigail, and sniffed the shoulder of her cardigan, before curling against her even more, holding his face against her cardigan.

"It's you." He whispered.

"Ryan, what are you talking about sweetie? What's me?" She asked him.

"You smell like Mommy." He whispered gently.

Of course, it was their mothers old cardigan, and one she wore a lot at that. No doubt that Ryan obviously associated the smell of the cardigan with their mother. She didn't say anything, she only continued to hug him tightly. She suddenly wished that she was five years old, and that she had someone bigger than her, someone wiser, to protect her, to fight off the pain. You already have that someone. Her mind told her, a comforting voice that reminded her of her mother's words. You have Ben. She looked at her husband, who was looking at her, almost sending strength through his gaze.

Arriving at the church, Abigail was greeted by people she had not seen in ages. Old friends, relatives, everyone that was even remotely linked to their parents were all gathered under one roof. She had all the classic lines.

"My, haven't you grown! I haven't seen you since you were ten!"

"I am so sorry for your loss, dearie."

"It's really wonderful what you're doing for your brother."

"Do you still swim? I remember you being quite a swimmer."

"Oh, you poor darling."

"If there's anything I can do, don't hesitate to ask me."

"We're just a phonecall away."

Within five minutes she already wanted to run back to the house and lock herself away, but she kept her head up high, and tried to be strong. She had built herself up to this for over a week now, but it was nothing she could have expected. Nothing at all. After all, what could she do? She was about to bury her parents. Seeing as she wasn't strong enough to hold Ryan like he wanted her to, the young boy latched himself around Michael's neck, not saying anything to anyone. Stepping into the church, Abigail was reminded of her grandfather's funeral when she was ten. Spotting her lonely grandmother, looking distraught in the front row, she took her seat beside her, Ryan taking his place in her lap again.

"Does it ever get any easier?" Abigail asked her grandmother.

"No," She whispered back. "The pain heals, but it's always there."

Abigail sighed. "I know this is all very bad for us, but it doesn't seem like anyone has come to ask you how you're feeling." Abigail commented, taking her aging grandmothers hand. "It wasn't so long ago that you were burying your husband, and now you're burying your daughter."

She could see the tears glistening in her grandmothers eyes. She tightened her grip on Abigail's hand as Michael sat beside her and Ben sat beside Abigail. "I still have you." She said hopefully. "You're so much like my Amanda."

Abigail shook her head. "Mom was wonderful. She was so much more than me."

"You're more like her than you think. Attractive? You light up a room when you walk into it. Caring? I've never seen you put your own problems before any one elses. Loving? You're doing a wonderful thing for your brother." Abigail sighed. "Don't worry, sweetheart, things will work out." Her grandmother assured, then she smiled softly. "You know, Emma is back from Egypt. She moved out there not too long ago with little Evy. She should be here somewhere."

Abigail nodded. Emma, her cousin, was the only other girl besides Abigail in their generation. They were so close when they were young that they could have been twins if it wasn't for the fact that Abigail was three years older. Music started playing, and Abigail swallowed the lump in her throat.