Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Secret ❯ Pills ( Chapter 2 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Enjoy the new chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.

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Brown eyes, penetrated with fear stared upwards, over looking the gag that closed his mouth. He squinted, unable to see the people responsible for his capture through the bright lights that blinded him. However, his small ears could pick up the sounds of their voices echoing through the warehouse.

They were arguing, two large voices against a smaller one with a tinge of raspyness to it. In fact, in sounded like a young boy, maybe around eleven or twelve, on the brink of puberty. His fear ridden mind couldn't grasp the information that ran through his brain. Why the hell would a boy that age be in a place like this?

He wasn't an imprudent person, he knew why he was here, tied and gagged to a metal chair. His own foolishness brought him to such a defeat. An aged man, in his sixties, he knew the game well and his time to pay for all he had done in his life had finally caught up to him. He almost relished it, anticipating the time when his soul would leave his somnolent body. Almost. If it wasn't for the newfound happiness in his life.

He closed his eyes, picturing the little bundle of joy. Black hair, eyes of murky chocolate so like his own staring at him curiously, while a miniature hand reached up towards him, grasping at the air. His only grandchild, his little Phillip. God, how he loved the boy. He blinked away tears, accepting the fact that he would never see the child again, never buy him outrageous Christmas presents, never see him through school, or help him deal with his first girlfriend, or but him his first car.

Straightened up all well as he could, he brought his mind back to reality and the situation at hand. He would not regret this, god damn it, if he knew anything, he knew he deserved it. He deserved what was going to happen and, damn it, he was going to take it like a man.

The arguing got louder then, words becoming distinguishable. "Stop being a baby Briefs, your acting like a fucking pansy." The deepest voice screamed. "Just get it over with. Prove to us that you're worth it. Prove it."

The raspy voice broke in. "Shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up. I'm worth more than any of you dirty street whores! I don't have to prove myself to anyone."

"Stalling are you now? Just do it! I'm hungry and tired of arguing with you you stubborn little brat. Look, I understand what your going through. I felt this way my first time too. Over the years you learn to deal with it. Trust me, he deserves it and he knows it. He deserves it." The third voice finally spoke, calming the other two.

Footsteps then began to cautiously reverberate through the warehouse, from, what he assumed to be, the younger boy coming towards him. He then sensed the boy come to a stop above him. The man prepared himself for the cold ring of a gun barrel to be pressed against his temple but it never came. Instead a glowing energy seemed to emit from the child's hands, shocking the man into complete stillness. Then it engulfed him, burning away at his fragile flesh.

His head jerked upwards to stare into crystal blue eyes. A color that in itself radiated pureness, however what he saw in it's depths made him cry out in fear. Pain, so much torture and anguish, and beneath it all, swirling in the milky depths was an evil that cried to be released. In the mans final moments he witnessed as the evil leaped forward to consume the child, laughing in utter glee at his suffering, in an unnatural, insane explosion of emotions. Then all was black.

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Trunks shot up from bed, gasping for air, a cold sweat running down his body over and between the ridges of his muscles. He wiped his arm across his forehead, swiping the moisture from it. He then sighed, laying his body back down on the black silk sheets, shivering at the feeling of the cold cloths on his heated body.

He could remember that time clearly, his first hired killing. Bra was around four and he had just started to feel isolated in his own home. Then one day during school he had meet these older boys, Leo and Trevor, who were seniors at the time. They had seen him at a competition earlier that year, that his asshole of a father forced him to go to, and said they were impressed. Next thing he knew he was doing random "errands" for them. He could have stopped anytime he wanted to but he didn't…they made him feel wanted, needed. It was just a game back then, just a game…God! I was so fucking naïve! If only I could go back in time and smack some sense into myself, God knows no one else ever cared to. Now I'm in too fucking deep to help myself.

Trunks reached out his arm, fumbling around his night stand until his fingers closed around a white bottle. It rattled as he grasped for it, twisting the cap around to reveal small, round, white pills. Although they were quite dangerous he found it was the only thing that allowed him a moments sleep. There was no way he was going to be able to go back asleep on his own, if he ever did? Ten were left in the bottle, and in an act of defiance he took them all, even though the supplier recommended two a night. Hell, it wouldn't hurt him with his Sayian blood. The last thought that entered his mind before he drifted off into a agonizing dream-filled night was that he would need to get more for tomorrow.

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As always Bulma woke up at six a.m., exactly two hours after Vegeta woke up to train, to the beautiful eyes of her youngest child. Ruffling Bra's purple-aqua locks she rolled out of bed, slipping into her short red robe and fluffy pink slippers, and began to make her way to the kitchen. Vegeta always got grumpy if she didn't make him breakfast. Bulma laughed as she remembered the time when she told that to Bra and Bra replied "But how can you tell? Daddy is almost always grumpy. Except with me of course." Bulma smiled at the added sentiment. Yes, Vegeta really was a sucker when it came to Bra.

Speaking of children, Bulma eyed Trunks room as she started towards the elevator. Her manicured hands reached to turn the door handle, doing her best not to arouse suspicion from Bra, who was following behind her. Damn, locked again. She let out a sigh, beginning to frown, but as she caught sight of Bra's confused face she let it go to continue down to the kitchen. There was no need to worry Bra, and she defiantly didn't want Vegeta to catch wind of her suspicions.

Around an hour later, a sweaty Vegeta stormed into the kitchen, as he had for the past eighteen years, plopping himself into a kitchen chair next to his wife and daughter. As usual he didn't speak a word as he began to lift his fork to his mouth, and this did not bother either female, both use to his ways. However, they were surprised when the fork stopped halfway to his mouth, eyes narrowing on the empty chair across from him.

"Where's the boy?"

Bulma replied warily, sensing her mates mood. "Trunks is upstairs sleeping, Vegeta."

He swung his eyes to Bulma's face. "Again, damnit? This is the fifth time this week that he's been sleeping in the mornings. He should know the rules in this house by now. If he wants to sleep he should get his lazy ass to bed earlier. Go wake him up."

Tilting her chin defiantly Bulma replied. "No."

Vegeta glared at her. "Why the hell not? And you know that if you don't do it I will, and it won't be pretty."

As Bulma glared Bra decided to add her two cents to the conversation. "She can't Daddy. His door is locked by code from inside."

Vegeta's eyes softened as he turned his attention to his daughter. "Is that true princess?"

Bra eagerly nodded a yes to her father then watched as he rose from the table heading towards the stairs, which he preferred over the elevator. Not soon after a large crash was heard resounding through the building and her mother darted from her chair up the steps as well with Bra loyally following.

They were confronted by Vegeta staring into Trunks room, almost perplexed. It was all different. The walls were black, curtains black, bed sheets black, and the furniture made of swirled marble. Nonetheless, he began to stalk toward the lump in the middle of the bed, sure that his son could not have slept through the noise he had purposely made and was now faking sleep. He was once again surprised when he grabbed his sons shoulders and discovered that the boy was still asleep.

Bulma, unnoticed to Vegeta in his daze, had gone and retrieved a glass of water, handing it to him, motioning towards her son. As soon as the freezing water engulfed Trunks he began to sputter, eyes slowly opening to confront the black eyes hovering above him.

"Explain." Was all that was commanded to son by father.

In his state of disorientation Trunks didn't grasp what his father meant. "Explain what?"

"Why you haven't been to breakfast this week and why the hell you were sleeping so heavily. I know I taught you better than that, do you need more training time?" Vegeta replied, anger and exasperation underlining his gruff voice.

"No. I guess I've just been stressed. You know with school work, the work at Capsule Corps., gir-" Trunks began sleepily, but was cut off by and irritated Vegeta.

"Stuff it. I don't want to hear your damn excuses. Just make sure it doesn't happen again. And make sure that your up by four tomorrow. Me and you are going to spend some quality time in the GR."

Trunks, nodded, already feeling the drugs taking control of his body and forcing him back into the abyss of dreams. He didn't noticed the concern on his mother face or slight confusion on his fathers as he slipped back into sleep right before there eyes. And as a result, no one witnessed as Bra picked up a white bottle from the floor of his bedroom, skipping off to her room with it.

It was a bright, fresh, early Monday morning when Mrs. Pikleton entered Yellow Star Elementary. A kindergarten teacher she was caring and lovely, with honey brown eyes, and chin length brown hair. As she strolled into classroom D005 she was mildly surprised to see a former student of hers, Bra Briefs, swirling about in her oak chair.

Placing her bag on the floor she flashed the girl a charming smile. Bra had always been a sweet little nymph. A bit spoiled and wild at times but altogether an engaging child. "What brings you here Miss Briefs?" A smile played on the teachers lips. "I haven't seen you in ages. What grade are you in now?"

As if offended Bra lifted her sharp nose into the air. "Why I'm in fourth grade of course. I'm very smart you know. Smarter than most kids." Bra then lowered her head to look into Mrs. Pikleton's eyes. "As to why I'm here, well, I heard about the new kid and wanted to meet him. Mother often drops me off early so I have a lot of time to explore. Is that okay with you Mrs. Pikleton?"

Mrs. Pikleton reached out and patted Bra's hand. "Why of course darling, I'm sure he would love for you to show him around. Just imagine, a fourth grader as smart as you befriending a lonely new kindergartener. How thoughtful."

Bra had the grace to slightly blush. "I like to be friends with everyone Mrs. Pikleton." The young imp then proceeded to fidget nervously with an object in her hand. Mrs. Pikleton turned to place her belongings on her desk. A bottle of water, some new pencils and a stack of paper for the kids who often forgot their own, the days lesson plans, and a stack of graded papers. As she reached to place her keys on the desk Bra suddenly dropped her plaything, whimpering helplessly as it feel to the floor.

The compassionate soul she was, Mrs. Pikleton bent down to pick it up, slightly chubby fingers curling around it then freezing. Gradually she brought the object to her face, gasping at what she saw. A white medicine bottle…A bottle that had once held a very dangerous and illegal substance. How did Bra get a hold of such a thing?

Clearing her throat Mrs. Pikleton faced the blue eyed wild child prepared to speak but lost all train of though when she set eyes on the child's face. Never had the teacher seen Bra cry, never. Yet now she mutely watched as streams of translucent tears careened down the angelic face, bottom lip protruding forward, her little chin quivering. The girl then wobbly held out her manicured hands. "Please give it back, Mrs. Pikleton. Please…"

Pity filling her heart Mrs. Pikleton calmly answered the child. "You know I can't Bra."

The child's eyes began to water anew and she slumped down in her seat. "Is it bad Mrs. Pikleton? Is it really bad?"

The teacher nodded her head as if to confirm her spoken answer. "Yes, it's very bad."

A long moment of tense silence passed were the only sound that could be heard was the labored breathing of Bra. Finally, the child spoke. "Its my brothers you know. I stole it from his room. I wanted to make him mad…I never meant to get him in trouble." Her searching gaze found Mrs. Pikleton's loving one. "He won't be in too much trouble will he Mrs. Pikleton? I don't want him to hate me more than he already does."

For some reason Mrs. Pikleton was not overly shocked to hear such an admission from the child's lips. Yet, in some part of her soul she was torn. She remembered Bra's older brother Trunks well. Years ago she was a student teacher to his fourth grade class. He was wild and rambunctious, full of life and energy. Fondly, she recalled all the fights he was so apt at getting in balanced by the intelligence he showed early on.

However, in some part of her she always knew this day was coming. She knew from the minute she happened to catch the boys gaze. While he could laugh and act like a regular child in the eyes of others the blues depths of his own revealed something else entirely in the child's soul, a pain that was unfathomable. After her years of experience she could now pinpoint the child's emotion, when years before it had seemed to be so illusive. It was the throbbing sting of neglect.

"Mrs. Pikleton?" Bra's trembling voice jolted her out of her reverie. "Are you going to tell my parents? Papa and Momma will be very angry."

Mrs. Pikleton, weak hearted as she was, was forced to turn away from the child with tears spilling from her crystal eyes. "Yes, Bra." She interrupted "I'm afraid I have no choice but to inform you parents. This a very serious matter."

Bra lowered her head, accepting the inevitable. "I understand."

Sympathetically, Mrs. Pikleton reached out and ruffled Bra's shining locks. "Now I have to go to the office. Will you sit here and wait for the new student? I can give you a pass back to your class when I'm done."

Eagerly Bra nodded her head, accepting the tissue that Mrs. Pikleton handed her. "Thank you."

"Your Welcome." Mrs. Pikleton called, heading for the door. "And I'm sure young Phillip McCany will be here soon. And don't worry, I'm sure things with your brother will work out fine."

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G ah, It's been so long. I just kinda forgot about my fics and then I reread this one and was like, wow, I like this. Lets write another chapter. I know its short but please forgive me. At least I updated. Enjoy. When I get time I will try to write another chapter.

In this chapter I know I made Bra a bit nicer towards the end, but I know that even when siblings tend to almost loath each other they still stick up for each other. If you haven't noticed I'm not a big fan of Bra's so don't expect her to have a lot of attention centered on her. I needed her for this transition though.

If you encounter any grammar mistakes I'm sorry, I looked but I'm awfully tired so I may have missed some things. Oh, and ages may be confusing because well, I wasn't really paying attention, lol. It's the plot that's important okay?

Thanks to all who reviewed that last chapter. I really appreciate it. Not many people take time to read something other than romance ,lol.

Please review, I love reviews! Please!