DISCLAIMER: Okay, Seachange and all its characters are owned by Deb Cox and Andrew Knight. There is going to be no financial gain from the writing of this story; it is serving as entertainment purposes only.

This fic was in no way written as a wishful thinking story. I really don't want anything like this to ever happen but I was in a very depressed mood and got to the "what ifs" which generally are sad.

Okay this is sort of based on a good friend of mine, so I figure I'll dedicate it to her. She has been through this sort of loss and I will forever admire her strength and courage.

Beloved

By Casey

She placed a single long-stemmed red rose onto the lid of the coffin. A lone tear rolled down her cheek and the wind whipped at her dark auburn hair. There was a large gathering at the funeral, as so many people in Pearl Bay had adored him. When the news had arrived that he had been shot while reporting in East Timor, she had been on the next flight over, even though it was against the entire town's advice.

He was bloodied and bruised and awaiting transfer back to Australia in a remote jungle area. The problem was that the transfer had been too late. The gunshot wound to his stomach had become infected and gangrenous, and he had died of an infection three days after the initial injury. The doctors had said that he would have survived, had he been removed from the disease-ridden camp sooner. That was the part that hurt her the most. Knowing that he would have survived.

People slowly left as the hours moved on, but she refused to move. Her legs were cemented to the ground beneath her, and all she could do was stare at the simple tombstone that marked his grave. They had chosen an area close to the ocean, a spot where he often disappeared to when he needed some time alone. Only she had known where that place was.

The memories surrounded her in the town, but the pier held the majority of those memories. They had danced on the pier, kissed on the pier; hell they'd even played marco polo in the water under the pier. Her house held memories of him too. His shirts were scattered across their bedroom floor, the smell of his aftershave was still evident in the bathroom, his laptop sat on the desk near the window.

She knew that life would never be the same without him. They needed each other to survive, and knowing that he wouldn't wake up with her each morning distressed her. She knew that there was only one reason to keep living, but not having him by her side to share in it tore her apart. She hadn't wanted him to depart for East Timor when the offer had arisen. Through all the arguments the very adamant pair had gotten into, she could feel the tension. It excited her, made her feel alive. There wouldn't be any arguments anymore.

After all the debates as to why he should go, he had won. She knew that he would do anything for his job; he was very compassionate about it. He had always been the one to step into an agreement without any hesitation. His side of the argument had been "I'll be gone for a month at the most. You'll be fine". Her side of the argument had been "But you don't know what might happen over there". And look who had been right. Although she loved to be right, this had been an instance when she would have adored being wrong.

She would never forget his last words to her. The words had brought it all home for her. The sudden realisation of what she had lost hit her like a rock. This man that she had loved since the first day she'd seen him had died in her arms, and there wasn't a damn thing that she could have done to prevent it. His grasp on her hands had become very weak, and she remembered looking into those crystal blue eyes. She could see fear. Something that she had never, ever seen within him. He had known at that moment that he was going to die.

There time together had been minimal, to say the least. She greatly regretted never letting go to the grudge she'd held against him for so long. Had she broken down the barriers and accepted that she really did love him, the pair would have had a lot more time together.

By the time she had noticed it had begun raining she was practically soaked anyway. She walked back to the house slowly; there was no need to rush. She reminisced all those days when she would hurry home from work, desperate to be wrapt in his loving arms. She loved feeling his body against hers. He made her feel so protected from the world and all its evils. She would never feel safe again.

As she stepped into the house, the rain was pouring down. The waves crashed on the sandy shore, and the wind was fierce now. She closed the windows that had been left open, preventing the rain from getting further into the house. Heading towards the kitchen, she glimpsed the photo on the table. It was recent, taken on the Sunday before he had left for East Timor. It had been someone's birthday, although she couldn't recall whose. She picked up the photo in its wooden frame, and examined it carefully.

His smile always caught her in a trance. She loved how whenever he smiled there was a sparkle of delight in his gorgeous blue eyes. His big hands were wrapt around her waist and she had her petit hands on top of his. His hair had always puzzled her. She didn't really know how to classify its colour. Some days it appeared to have a tinge of light red, yet on others it was a sandy brown tone. But it would always be his eyes that she adored. They told her everything about him. When he was sad, when he was troubled. They were the gateway to his emotions.

Suddenly a wave of nausea struck her. She leaned against the bench, struggling to regain composure. It was then that the golden chain dangled in her line of sight, and she could have cried at that moment. After recovering from the strange spell, she removed the chain from around her neck and looked at the ring strung on it. The wedding bands they had selected were perfect. They were matching gold bands, only hers had been a great deal smaller to accommodate her petit fingers.

Tears sprung to her eyes when she read the inscription that they had both agreed on. Her ring had a special message on it from him, and she'd done the same for his ring. 'My cherished angel' he had inscribed. Her memory never faded when it came to their wedding day. It had occurred not long after the news, so no one would have known about it had she not told them. He had looked ravishing as always, and the day had held so much romance.

Reaching for the notebook on the table, she flipped it open and read through the hundreds of suggestions in both their handwriting. Some were crossed off; others were circled in red pen. She often screwed her face up at some of his suggestions, but now she knew it was just to irritate her. The rain outside had turned stormy, and the skies were being lit up by lightning. She walked to the window and looked at the fierce sea outside.

There were times when she couldn't even think because of him. Her daydreams in the courthouse were often involving him and many of the things that made him so adorable. They were just the simplest of things. Every time he'd say, "How'd you be?" her heart would flutter. His snide comments always squeezed a grin out of her, his wit never ceasing to humour her. His many stories about the most insignificant of events would entrance her in thought for hours, only because it was him who was telling the story.

Both the kids had disappeared not long after the wedding. Her daughter had moved to the city for university, and her son had decided to stay with his father for a while. Neither knew that their greatest male influence in Pearl Bay had died. She shuddered, knowing how difficult it would be to tell them. She then thought of the other child that would suffer the most from this ordeal. The child that had united them in so many more ways was going to be the child with no father.

It was then that she broke down and cried. The truth had once again caught her off guard and twisted in such a way that it choked her. Her sobs were uncontrollable, and there wasn't anyone there to comfort her. No one that she wanted to comfort her, anyway. There was only one person who knew how to soothe her crying, but he was the cause of her depression. She tried to gain control of the tears rolling down her cheeks, but it was hopeless. Nothing was going to cease her grief.

The evening set in, as did the storm. She wondered if God had created this storm to show His grief at the loss of such a wonderful man. The waves outside were now breaking near the sand dunes, and she wondered how much higher they could get. Suddenly the lights went out, and she was plunged into complete darkness. 'This is all I need' she thought as she attempted to find some candles. After collecting two tables and various items on the floor, she made it back into the kitchen. Two cups were smashed in the search, but she retrieved three candles and a box of matches.

Taking the candles into the bedroom, she collapsed onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. Her thoughts were so battered at the moment that nothing seemed clear. She closed her eyes, and visions of him came in the darkness. She could hear his voice echoing about her head. His different sayings, his last words to her. They would forever haunt her, and it scared her to wonder just how long it would take to deal with the loss of the man she loved. Deep down she knew that she would never get over losing him. Nothing could ever compensate for the love and happiness he brought her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Max Connors watched his beautiful wife cry herself to sleep. It tore at his heart to see her upset. But Max knew that nothing would take away the pain. How he regretted ever going away. He wondered why he had even considered it when parenthood had been only 2 months away. Max mourned never being able to hold his child, not being able to share in its life with the woman that he loved. Max moved silently about the bedroom, looking at its messy state. He knew that Laura wouldn't attempt to clean anything for a while. He moved towards the bedside table and picked up the photo in its timber frame.

Miranda and Rupert. Max knew that they weren't aware of his death, and wondered when Laura would decide to tell them. Miranda had left for university not long after their wedding, and Rupert had taken up permanent residence at his father's house. Max wished that he could've said goodbye to both of them. He really did love them as though they were his own children. That brought him back to his own unborn child. Max moved towards the bed, and laid down beside his sleeping wife.

Placing his hand delicately on Laura's round stomach, Max smiled. He remembered the times when the pair would sit for hours and discuss names for their child. The arguments were always heated yet infrequent, and he had loved every moment of it. "Don't you forget about me, Bubsy" Max whispered to his child, before wiping away the solitary tear of grief that ran down his cheek. Max laid next to Laura and was quite satisfied watching her sleep. He gently wiped away the tears that had been streaming down Laura's cheeks. Max leant over her and gently kissed her pink lips. He then whispered in her ear, "I'll never stop loving you Laura".

FINIS

I hope you liked it!