A/N: Okay, not sure how long before people are able to see this chapter but... it's here! ;)

Chapter 78
After the Sunset

The days following Kermit Hart's funeral very much felt like they had just finished the most challenging assignment they'd ever had to do, and as soon as it had been handed in they had turned to discover their next great big assignment was due all of two days later. Actually, it was due about two weeks later, May 5th to be exact. One of those weeks had already gone by, one more to go.

"How about it, Sprout? Ready to take those feet of yours for a test drive?" Lucas looked to the eleven-month-old sitting on the ground just as he was, just out of arm's reach. Elliott looked to his father, arms outstretched, encouraging smile on his face… After a beat, he shifted on to his hands and knees, crawling up to him with a noise that said 'here I am!' "I know you're a pro with the crawl," Lucas held him nonetheless, kissing the top of his head. "Alright, one more time," he lifted the boy and carried him back where he'd been a moment ago before returning to his own spot, too. "You can do it, El, come on," he nodded.

"You are the most patient person ever." Lucas looked back to the couch, where Maya sat, her back propped up with pillows, hands to a belly about as near to bursting as he'd seen. "He's just going to keep coming to you. He likes when you put him back," she pointed out, smiling as she watched their son pat Trix' head. The dog had been watching the proceedings, all eighteen times Elliott Friar had crawled to his father that morning, and all eighteen times his father had put him back again.

"He'll figure it out," Lucas nodded confidently. "Maybe I need to change tactics," he stated, looking back, too.

Maya looked to her husband. She knew what he was trying to do. He wanted Elliott to take his first steps, knowing that a monumental milestone it would be for all of them, and how it would help lift her spirits. The last week had been very confusing, very complicated, as they all tried to figure out how to get back to their lives now that Kermit was gone, Kermit who had become nothing short of the center of their lives as they had cared for him and prepared for the day he would leave them. Now he had, and the funeral was over, too, so what was left except this… Life…

For them, for their little family of three, it was about counting down the days until they became four, and that… that was easier said than done, when they were still dealing with that onslaught of feelings. But they were doing their best, each of them in their own way.

"Tactics, right," Maya hummed. She whistled for Trix.

The dog lifted her head and looked at her. She looked almost conflicted, between the little guy being so good and gentle to her and then Maya, one of her people and also the one with the new small one in her belly. Maya had been the one to scoop her up and take her from the shelter. Eventually, she chose, moving out from under Elliott's grasp and to the couch, where she took a practiced hop, short front paw and all. She came and sat in the space next to Maya's legs, barking happily.

"Good girl," she smiled, reaching to pet her before looking to see if Elliott would take the bait.

Oh, for sure, when the dog had moved away from him, Elliott had watched her go, with a bit of sadness. He watched her hop up on the couch, there with his mom. Meanwhile, grasping what she had in mind, Lucas sat in wait, looking to Maya and then back to Elliott. He was moving toward the couch, crawling again, though even as he went he looked to realize there was something of a distance issue, not so much straightforward but in height. That was fine though. He could stand, could pull himself up, so that was what he did, once he could grasp on to the couch cushion. He could do this now so much better than before, could actually stay up where he used to fall back on his butt so quick at first. He could even stand up without holding anything sometimes, but he definitely fell right back down still.

"Call her," Maya told Lucas, indicating the dog, and he did. Confused as she was by all this back and forth, Trix hopped back to the floor, without knocking Elliott over, and went over to Lucas, who was glad he still had a couple dog treats in his pocket. He gave one of those to Trix now before looking to see what Elliott would do.

He didn't look so sure on this game either, standing there by the couch, holding on to it as he looked to where the dog had gone. Right then, it was anyone's guess what the exact mental process had been, but it probably went something like 'I'm here, the dog is there, I want to be with the dog.' As soon as he let go of the couch and tried to move, down he went, but just as soon he tried and got back up again, fell again. The next time he moved to stand, Lucas held out his hand to him, and Elliott grabbed on.

"Come on, Elliott, you can do it," he promised, even as the boy wobbled down. This time, sensing his curiosity to carry on, Lucas helped pull him back up, while on the couch Maya took her phone and hit record… just in case.

Whether or not he was aware of what he was meant to be doing, Elliott looked intrigued by the experience. Much like his father had tried and tried to coax him earlier, the boy looked far from ready to abandon whatever this was. He'd try and move forward, and he'd tumble again, but he'd be lifted back up again, and maybe that was the thing that convinced him to keep doing the thing, just so his father would reset him. Either way, it kept him minded, as minded as he could be right then.

"Almost, that's it," Lucas continued, and Maya pointed out that watching him and his motivating games was a pick-me-up all by itself. "Yeah?" he asked, and she nodded. "Noted," he cleared his throat before turning back to Elliott and launching into a song of his own improvisation, to no air in particular, although if they had to put money on it, they'd say it sampled heavily from the tune to 'Row, Row, Row Your Boat.' Maya had to cover her mouth with one hand to muffle her laughter as she still held the phone.

"Hold on, I can't see his face from here," she handed him the phone, which he pointed down to show how Elliott now clung to his leg and would look up to him, then back to his mother as she moved to stand on her own feet, which right about now felt about as clumsy as her son's.

"You good?" Lucas asked.

"Yeah…" she breathed, taking the phone back and moving around them. Elliott watched her go.

"I think you might be a better lure than Trix here," Lucas smiled.

"Well, I should be," Maya chuckled before addressing their boy, staring up at her with those clear blue eyes. "Is your dad right? Huh? Want to come say hi?" she asked him. At this, Lucas started up his song again, taking both of Elliott's hands now and waiting until he tried again.

"Might be out of gas," Lucas slipped the words into his lyrics.

"I don't know, he's giving me those Friar eyes right now. You guys love me."

"Yes, we do. Yes, we do," Lucas sang, lightly waving their son's arms about as he did. Finally, he started to move. There were some more tumbles, but Elliott Friar was a boy on a mission now. And while they were very few, that day he took his very first steps that could be called steps, to the jubilation of his young father and the fierce pride and joy of his young mother. Maya had continued recording after those steps, capturing those moments afterward when Lucas lifted Elliott up into his arms, held him aloft and back close again, time and again as it made the boy laugh and laugh and laugh.

Time just moved… so fast… One moment a flutter in her belly, one moment a crying babe laid over her the day he was born, one moment… this moment. And in no time, it'd be him and his baby brother or sister… It was all moving so fast, and yet…

Maya moved to sit again, not so much hurrying but at the same time going along with enough intent as to pull Lucas away from his ongoing celebration and notice her.

"What's happening? Are you…" he asked, approaching her.

"No, no, it's not that," she waved off the notion. Lucas sat next to her now, sitting Elliott in his lap. The boy seemed intent on urging his father to move with him again, the way he'd been doing just before. "It's so stupid, I just…" Maya shook her head, one hand sitting well atop her belly, the other reflexively reaching to hold Elliott's hand and slowly calm him down again. "I started thinking about my father, and how happy he'd have been to find out about him taking his first steps, and then…"

That was more or less how the last week had been going for them, for her. It wasn't an endless state of weariness. She could be more or less alright, almost good even, for a while, and then something would come along and she'd be pulled right back into that sort of flipside universe, the land of grief and overpowering emotions. It was only too normal for her to have to deal with that, after she'd just lost her father, but then it wasn't just her, had never been, for as long as Kermit and his illness had been a factor. The first time, with Elliott, as rough as it could be at times, it was something that came and went, something they could get through.

But this time, with this baby growing along, it had become about knowing that Kermit's days were numbered, that he would and eventually did die. And it had been so difficult on her, on them… More than once they had been left to worry whether this baby would get through to the end of the pregnancy, if he would live, for everything Maya was going through. Now they were so close to the end, but everything was just non-stop, and there had been no time for them to stop and collect themselves.

It felt almost cruel now, to have her go through that loss and then almost right into giving birth and recovering from it and then looking after a newborn. Or maybe that was just him. As protective as he'd ever been known to be, right now it was almost impossible to turn off those instincts, to not go around all day long in a state of concern for his wife and their unborn son. He slept so lightly these days that the slightest thing woke him, leaving him to sleep very poorly. This would not help them at all once the baby was born…

Pappy Joe had been as essential as he'd ever been over the past week. He had taken it upon himself to get up in the night if ever Elliott woke up, insisting that Lucas and Maya should focus on resting as much as possible. That could not guarantee that they wouldn't wake up anyway, but they remained where they were, and they listened a while, and then they went back to sleep.

For all this, Maya had maybe been doing a little better than what Lucas' protective instincts suggested. It was hard, yes, it was… the hardest thing she'd ever dealt with, but… but it wasn't what she'd imagined it would be. How could she have known what it would be when she hadn't actually been through it before?

She cried, she did. There hadn't been a day where something sooner or later got to her enough that she wouldn't eventually break down. It wasn't nearly as bad as that first day after he'd passed. Sometimes it was so quiet, and brief, but she felt it. But she'd thought that it would have her simply floored, unable to stand on her own two feet without feeling like she'd collapse under the weight of it all. In reality, the only thing that challenged her balance was the fact that was very nearly a whole nine months pregnant. It wasn't the death of her father.

Sometimes, it almost felt like she'd spent much of her grief already, subtly, in the months since they'd found out he was terminal, in watching him get worse and worse until, finally, he'd passed. She'd already lived through so much of that loss while her father was still among them that, after he'd gone, what she really felt a lot of the time were small pockets of… void… There had been this thing in her life, for all this time, and it had ruled so much of her world, and now it was gone, and she didn't know what to do with the space left behind.

What she did… Well, she did what she could, what she was supposed to do. She looked after her people. There were so many of them, around her, and they had suffering of their own. She was needed. Most of all, her brothers and sisters needed her. Sam… Sam couldn't manage his voids. He tried to patch them up by patching everyone else's, or trying to, except he was ill-equipped for the task, and in the end he would be forced to remember he was only a kid… and he would refuse. Then Cara, she would try and busy herself, always looking for something to do, for her mother, for her grandmother, her aunt, until she'd gone home to Arizona… And, of course, her big sister.

She'd been coming by the house, on her bike, every day since the funeral. Once she'd get here, she'd ask Maya if she needed anything, she'd play with Elliott… Maya would eventually just get her to sit by her side and tell her how the others were. More often than not, they'd end up putting the bike in the car and they'd drive her home, where they'd have dinner with the family.

Wyatt would feel like a little satellite, constantly orbiting around one person or another. Sometimes he'd run after them, like he couldn't bear to be more than a certain distance away from them, from anyone. And Eliza… Eliza hadn't said a word, not since the day Kermit had died. Actually, they weren't even sure anymore, no one could remember distinctly the last time they'd heard her speak. It had been understandable at first, and they hadn't drawn so much attention to it, but after all this time, they did get to worry about her.

It was so hard not to look at the four of them the most. They were so young, and there was only so much they knew to do in order to cope. Too young… They all thought it, how could they not? But then they hadn't been the only ones to lose him. He had been a father, yes, but also a husband, and a brother, and a son… Most of them had, like Maya, started coping with the loss before it had come, in their own ways, and here, now, were left with so much more of a 'what do I do now?' feeling in them. The answers were for each of them to find and define.

Luna had gone home, her and her daughters, and no one had faulted her for it. Losing her big brother had been a lot, and she needed to be home again, back in her world and her things so she could deal with it. Staying here, she would only have felt she was in the way even if she was far from that. Abigail… well, not unlike Sam, she had her focus well centered on the kids, but unlike Sam it was actually what she needed to do. It hadn't been easy. She was never going to be alone, no, but it wouldn't change the fact that those four boys and girls would now depend on her in a way so overwhelming, and without their father… Of all people, and easily strangest for the two of them, the person she came to lean on with this was Katy. Their circumstances were so vastly different, and even though it had stemmed from the same man, it had nothing to do with him so much as this situation where they had found themselves very suddenly their children's whole world. Katy had never faulted Abigail for getting with Kermit all those years ago, no more than Maya did, but here more than ever, the two women had started to form what felt like a genuine friendship.

Of all of them, the one who had struggled most for the loss was Elizabeth Hart, and it had been impossible not to understand why. Maya had spent so much of her time at the Hart house sitting with her grandmother, sometimes speaking with her, sometimes just sitting there with her… There wasn't much more for her or anyone else to do except to be there with her. Only in the last couple of days had she started to take a rise again, if only to a certain point. It wasn't said in so many words, but the feeling was that she'd come around to see how, though her boy was gone, pieces of him lived on, in his daughters, in his sons, even just a bit in his grandson… and the best thing she could do was to protect those, to nurture them and watch them grow.

And then… Charles Hart… He'd gone by now, but he hadn't left just after the funeral, no. He'd stayed in Austin a couple days after that, and on the second of those, to all involved parties' surprise, he'd come over to the house on the lane – per his granddaughter's invitation – and joined Maya, Lucas, Elliott, and Pappy Joe for dinner.

It was… curious… seeing Lucas' grandfather and Maya's grandfather, sitting on either side of the table. Pappy Joe had little more than what he'd been told and what he'd seen of Charles Hart to form his impression of the man, and as of yet he still erred far, far on the side of caution, had to, knowing of his history. If Kermit's father had sought to prove how much he'd been made to change and how he tried to be better, whether or not he struggled with it, this had been something right there. Maya and Lucas only had to think of the man who'd sat on Katy and Shawn's couch the year before and the way he'd stormed out, and then to see the man here, not withering under Pappy Joe's pointed looks but also not rising to them either… They'd come from so far already, and whatever Charles Hart did or didn't expect out of being here now, he was just in the right place for second chances, so all he had to do was keep as he was now, not giving his granddaughter any reason to shut that door again, shut it and throw away the key, seal the door shut…

They parted on one promise. He asked if he might write to her, and if she would write to him in return, and Maya had agreed.

Things were falling back into place. Slowly, cautiously. Some things had been out of their place for so long that it was hard to make them fit again. Other things simply wouldn't fit again, no matter what they tried. And others still would be brand new things, and they'd have to discover them, break them in… There was no telling just yet what the final picture would look like yet, but it was coming together. And today… today they had this brand-new piece: Elliott had walked… just a little.

"It's not stupid that you think about him, that you miss him. He would have been so proud of him," Lucas spoke confidently, looking to his wriggly child in his lap, kissing his blond head. "He'd be jumping the walls right now, looking forward to meeting this little Bee," he went on, looking to his wife, as Maya looked to herself, too.

"Doesn't feel so little right now," she breathed, and it pulled a clumsy sort of laugh on the way out.

It felt good to hear, every time, maybe now more than ever. They looked to one another, and however many times they had told it to themselves, consciously, unconsciously, right here it felt like the first time that they really saw each other and thought it together: They would get through this, all of them. They'd get through it in many different ways, some on their own but much more for leaning to one another. And in this house… In this house, their spirits were very much in the small hands of this small boy growing before their eyes, but also in those of his unborn sibling, who grounded his parents to reality, to this moment in their lives from the love they already felt for him, days from being able to hold him in their arms.TO BE CONTINUED

See you next week! - mooners