Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.

AN: My first Taiora (or any fic, for that matter) in quite a while. Somewhat in response to a rant or two I read about the children's relationships with the Digimon not being reflected enough in the Digimon fandom. I decided to experiment a bit by tying in how much the children miss their Digimon, and Taichi and Sora turning to each other out of need more than anything else. Fic also available on my livejournal (see profile for link).

Rated M for that little bit of sex at the end.

Empty

"It's all right, 'cause there's beauty in the breakdown." Frou Frou

She huddles on the couch, wrapping the blanket tightly around her to ward off the night chill that penetrates his apartment. He rises to take the empty popcorn bowl back to the kitchen. The clock across the room flashes some ungodly hour; movie night ran late once again. She'll be sleeping on his couch for the fourth time this month. Not that he minds; they've been best friends for so long that by now this is just part of the routine. Upon returning from the kitchen he sinks into the cushion next to her, only to be greeted by silence.

He sighs. They both know what the other is thinking. Even their traditional movie night could not drown out the truth that they have been evading all day. The truth of what today is, what today means. "Ten years," she murmurs quietly. Ten years today since they journeyed to the Digital World and back, since they and the other Chosen fought Vamdemon in Odaiba and all those other battles to save both worlds. Ten years since they last saw their Digimon partners. She rests her head on his shoulder. "Taichi," she asks, more to fill the silence than anything, because she already knows what he'll say, "what would you give to see Agumon again?"

"Anything," he responds sincerely, "same as you would for Piyomon."

"Do you still think about him a lot?"

"Mm… Not really. It's more like he's always there, somewhere in the back of my mind. Sometimes I can even hear him. Like a ghost, or my conscience or something." A small, half-hearted smile crosses his face. "Sounds kinda crazy, huh?"

She shakes her head. "Not at all. I know exactly what you mean." Normally she would just leave it at that and enjoy a quiet moment, a rare thing with Taichi, but tonight the emptiness of silence scares her. Even sitting right next to him, it's too lonely, too much, so she continues to fill the space with her words. "What do you think our lives would've been like without the Digimon? If summer camp had just been summer camp, without any of the getting swept away to another world stuff?"

He ponders this for a moment. "Well, let's see… You'd still be emotionally stunted and scarred for life from convincing yourself that you don't know how to love, I'd still be rushing into everything without thinking, we wouldn't have gotten to know the others… Basically, our lives would've been slightly more screwed up."

She sighs wearily. "I take that back. Maybe we shouldn't think about what our lives would've been like without the Digimon and the Digital World. It's hard enough living the rest of our lives without them, and let's face it, that's how it's going to be because come on, if the gate hasn't opened in the past ten years, what are the chances it'll open in the next ten, or twenty, or one hundred?" She leans back and sinks deeper into the cushions. "And speaking of the others, I wonder what they're doing now. God, when did we all become so disconnected? This used to be our day! We used to be a team, even a family, but look at us now, ten years later and we can't even pull ourselves together for this. We're all over the place, so spread out. Well, you're here, obviously, but that's different, you're always here. I mean the eight of us as a whole – that's just it, we aren't a whole anymore…" She feels herself veering into babble territory, but she doesn't particularly care. She just needs something, anything, to help her defend against the emptiness.

He knows why she's still talking, but he doesn't respond with more words. Instead he simply squeezes her hand, hoping that the contact provides some small comfort. And before he can fully comprehend what he is doing, his lips meet hers. The kiss tastes bittersweet, tinged with need, desire, familiarity. Their lips linger, and for the time being all thoughts are sidelined, the usual boundaries forgotten. His hands trace her body slowly, gently, cautiously, and hers trace his. They are no longer sitting side by side, but lying on the couch; their hips align, and soon he is inside her. Time slows for them as they melt into one another, their two bodies moving as one. It is not the lovemaking of two lovers fulfilling their passion, nor is it that of strangers fulfilling their lust. No, there is a certain simplicity to this act. They take comfort in their bodies pressing together, flesh on flesh, warmth on warmth. For the moment, at least, the world feels a little bit smaller, closer, safer, and they know they are not alone.

For now, more than anything, this is what they need.