Chapter One: How The Day Began

Standing before the sea of people before him, Franklin Richards felt a rise of nerves within him. Public speaking had never been his forte, despite the many public speeches he'd given. Of course, these were usually directed to the many gatherings of reporters and cameras that had gathered outside of his childhood home, the Baxter Building, thanks to the feats of both himself and his parents team. He'd even given the valedictorian speech when he left college and university, but he'd never given a speech like this before. Not one with his own children sitting down in the front row beside his mother. Sure, he could remember his little sisters sitting besides his mother at his valedictorian speeches, but never his own children. He cast a glance to the two children on either side of his mother, both blonde haired and blue eyed as it seemed the family trait had become; they were both sitting silently, almost oblivious to the seriousness of what was going on around them. They knew that something serious was going on, because he had sat them down and talked to them about it a week ago, and again that morning, and several times in the middle of the night when one of them had wandered into the kitchen for a drink and found him at the table; but it didn't stop them whispering to each other over their grandmother's lap.

From this, he glanced along the front row, which was filled mainly by his family; his mother, Susan Richards, sitting there in her Sunday best with damp cheeks and a lump in her throat that she fought to hold on to; his children, twins Liam and Molly, at four years old; his eldest younger sister Valeria, with her two sons Jacob, aged seven, and Charlie, aged five, with her husband Henry; and his youngest sister Evelyn, with her children, Nicholas, aged three, Aidan, aged two, and one year old Imogen, along with her husband Matthew. His own wife, the twins mother, had passed on a year ago after a fatal car accident, not unlike the one that he was told his grandmother had died in when his mother and uncle were young children.

On the other side of his mother and his children was his uncle Johnny, with his wife Crystal. Johnny had seventeen year old Kayleigh sitting solemnly at his side, and on Crystal's other side was their eldest child, twenty-five year old Aaron, who was joined by his fiancé, Megan, and snug on Aaron's shoulder was their eight month old daughter, Madelyn. Further along was Ben Grimm, his second uncle, although this time from heart rather than blood relation, with his wife Alicia. They were joined by their adoptive children, who had long grown up like himself, Daniel, Yancy and Zoë. They, too, had their children along with them. Daniel was accompanied by Rebecca, Nathan and Benjamin Jr. Yancy had come with her daughters, Isabelle and Natalie. Zoë had come with her only child, twelve year old Samuel.

Everyone was present and accounted for, apart from the one person he wanted to see more than anything; the person who he needed to give him the strength to get through this particular speech. It was wishful thinking, however, as it was clear that this person was never going to arrive. He wouldn't come running in from the back of the room, trying to edge his way into his seat without causing too much fuss because he'd been running late on account of one of his latest inventions. Franklin had grown used to this as a child, and to a point it had amused him. When he was very young, and he had just started school, he'd grown to hate the fact that his father would always be last to arrive, because there was always something that had come up on the way to the Christmas plays, the parents nights and the careers day, but as he'd got older he'd realised that no matter what, he was always there, no matter how late he'd been; he always found a way to make it there.

That wouldn't happened now. It would never happen again.

Clearing his throat, Franklin leaned a little closer to the microphone that had been placed on the podium he was speaking from. The fact that he needed a microphone on the podium only served to remind him about the size of the crowd. There was easily a thousand people crammed into the memorial area, mainly reporters and well-wishers, as opposed to the family who were seated with priority at the front. He could see most of Manhattan's fire department, and the NYPD had turned out in full as well. Looking out on the crowd proved to him how many people were affected by this loss. Rows upon rows of people had turned up to honour the loss, to mourn their own personal grief, but it was nothing compared to the grief that had taken hold of the family and friends of such an amazing man.

He cleared his throat for a second time, and began his speech.