Really, Trunks couldn't have said how long they sat there. Waiting wasn't anything new to him, and grief was always a personal thing and they had only just met this Doctor, or Smith, or however he wanted to be called. It also gave him time to think of how, and if, he wanted to approach this.

It had seemed to be the right thing to do, to follow him. But now that he'd found him, Trunks wasn't quite sure what to do. Finally, he cleared his throat softly, and spoke. "They say it gets easier with time. All that it really does, is become less sharp." The pain and loss--easier only in that it wasn't as sharp a sting, not easier to forget or go on.