Ascending | ✔

Meet the Parents

Fennel pored over paperwork, making changes and deletions where it was needed. She shuffled the pages, one catching her eye. The female saiyan glowered at the print slightly. Personally, she did not like the funeral home that Amara - Beet's sister - had chosen for her daughter. Granted, the company in question guaranteed the best service in their flashy advertisements, but that fact in itself gave away their second-rate amenity. Cabba's mother sighed; it couldn't be helped, she supposed. Amara... She was not in the right state of mind. One might even go as far as to call her mad. Mad with grief, Fennel amended. They say time heals all wounds... But that would be presuming that grief is finite. She pressed down hard on her pen, ink dripping through the pages. It was already too late for the funeral home to be changed; Amara had already met with the arrangers, prepared the relevant paperwork and had the body transferred - not that the childless mother had done much talking, relying on her mate to be her proxy.

"Again? Really?"

The flat voice of her mate broke Fennel out of her stupor. "What?" she said defensively. "Is there a problem?"

Beet, standing at the doorway of the study room, shook his head. "You go and cope however you want. But I will not have you overworking yourself. Have you forgotten what Cabba said earlier?"

"Of course not. It's not yet evening. We still have time."

"Fennel..." Beet glanced up at the digital clock embedded on the wall. "It's nearly sunset." At her horrified expression, he sighed. "You really need to stop losing yourself so much... It's a hassle."

"Oh no," muttered Fennel, pushing her chair back and standing up. "Oh, no, no, no..." She groaned, palming her face in frustration. "What have I done?!" She removed her hand, allowing Beet to see the dark bags visible on her visage. "I-I haven't prepared anything, nor have I cleaned the house -"

"Enough!" Beet said sternly. "No more of that. I've taken the liberty to do those things myself with Carago's help. All you need to do is freshen up and get some rest before they arrive."

"Oh... Oh, Beet, why didn't you call me? Pull me away from... From whatever the hell I've been doing!"

"Coping? Fennel, how could I possible tear you away from that?" He moved forward and wrapped his considerably smaller mate in his broad arms. "Amara is not the only one that is grieving, yet we leave her to it. You should be granted that same privilege."

"Hrggh... Why should that be? I hate it...! I hate this feeling." Fennel looked up desperately at her partner, her eyes silvery with unshed tears. "How do I make it go away? How do I make it go away, Beet?!"

Beet merely held her patiently as she sobbed into his shirt, demanding an answer from him. He ran a large hand through her hair and she shivered at his touch before being comforted by it.

There was a period of silence before Fennel pulled away from him, wiping her tears away. "God, I am pathetic... Please... Tell me, Beet, how do I make it go away?"

"You can't," Beet told her gently. "Grief is the price we pay for love, my dear."

She pouted almost childishly at him. "Then what is the use of love?" she demanded.

Beet sighed through his nose. "Believe me when I say this, Fennel... The pain of grief is but a mere shadow compared when compared to the pain of never risking love."

Something buzzed, the sound muffled by fabric, and Beet pulled out a rectangular object about the thickness of the average hand - one inch. "Cabba left a message," he informed his mate. "He's picking up the girl he wants us to meet right now. They'll be here in about thirty minutes."