Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Story Of You And Me ❯ Part Eight ( Chapter 14 )

I shouldn't be here.

I want to forget so much, but I can't.

I would like to think I've become stronger over the past four and a half months. Rising to the responsibility I've been pretty much forced to face. Rehearsing the perfect scenario in my head that would have made everything the way I needed it to be. Starting to truly believe that I could make it - that all of this happened for a reason and that it was going to be okay in the end.

To be happy.

To make this all work.

It wasn't exactly the easiest choice to come back.

Initially, I kept telling myself that I would be better off on my own after what had happened, without anyone around to constantly remind me what a screw up I was, or think that I was still just a naive little kid under it all who got in over her head. I didn't want to hear about how it was my perfectly ridiculous fantasies that crushed my reality, or that I should have seen it all coming a mile away. And about how much I disappointed my mother, not to mention my dad.

I just really wanted to be able to handle this without the help of people who would have thrown it in my face, and instead just drown in all this regret by myself; to face the music and deal with the truth alone, no matter how different I wanted the truth to be.

But 'alone' became a lot bigger of a word once I actually was.

But where else could I go? There was no way I could ever show my face at Capsule Corporation again. After what happened that night with Bulma, I can't imagine I'd even be welcome.

I certainly couldn't go back to the island. It wasn't my home any longer. I was the one who didn't want to be treated like a little girl anymore and made that big stand with my parents about leaving Kame House. How can I forget all that talk about being responsible and mature enough to finally grow up and make it on my own in the big city?

Ironically enough, I was the one who said it would be easy, even though it turned out to be a lot easier to fuck up. And even if I could manage to swallow every ounce of pride and crawl back to my parents, I don't think I'd ever be able to look my dad in the eye again and not feel that I've disappointed him. I walked right into what he feared would happen and I was too stupid to see it.

After looking at my options and the situation I was in, it didn't take long before I finally had to admit to myself that I needed someone's help, and as much as I did not want to admit it, the two people who started this whole chain of events were the only ones left I could turn to. I didn't want to. Believe me - Just being back in the apartment would surely bring back too many painful memories and awkward feelings, but I no longer had a choice. I just expected it to be a personal hell I'd have to live with.

But that afternoon I walked back into this apartment defeated and ashamed only a week after both the best and worst night of my life, I honestly didn't expect them to be gone. And gone for who knows how long. Leaving me with this big, empty apartment to sit in and dwell on what happened until whenever they decided to come back, if they even would. Hearing message after message left on the answering machine from Bulma and everyone else they didn't tell, only to hear the vague recorded apology that Trunks left saying that they had to take care of something, no matter how long it took. After piles of mail built up and people stopped calling, I really started to think that they weren't coming back at all. It was getting harder and harder to not believe it wasn't because of me and what happened that night.

But I was someplace familiar. Someplace safe.

So I stayed.

Without having much of a choice, I learned to be on my own pretty quick. I figured out how to write checks from their joint bank account, to take care of the apartment, take care of myself. To handle responsibility on my own in magnitudes I could never have fathomed before. But I did all of it. In fact, I almost felt like it was making things a little bit more fair by having them pick up the tab while they were away. I at least deserved that much.

But looking back on it, it probably was better that way. I needed time. Time to feel sorry for myself. Time to hate them for what they did for a little while, and even more time to get through it and come to terms with my new reality.

Somehow, I think that if they had been home to open that door the day I came back, I would probably still be depending on something that could never be to make everything better. Still stuck with the hope that he would comeback. That he would be real for me because I wanted him to be. Because I needed him to be. I just needed time to realize that he won't be coming back, even though sometimes, I still find myself hoping that he will.

Even now.

Even after I have seen with my own two eyes that it's now truly impossible to ever see him again.

The big lesson learned from all of this? Things never turn out the way you want them to.

It wasn't supposed to happen this way. They were supposed to come home and tell me that everything was going to be okay. Hold me and tell me they were sorry for leaving, sorry for what they did to me.That they would always be here for me so I didn't have to be alone. Telling me that we were all in it together.

But it didn't happen that way at all.

That very moment I heard the balcony door swing open, it was already over.

To be perfectly honest, it all seemed like it was all happening to someone else. Things like this don't happen to real people. You just don't just walk out of the kitchen in your slippers and see the kind of horror you're too scared to even scream at... that is until you realize that it's your eyes you're watching it through and not someone else's.

I can still hear Goten begging for Trunks to wake up, drowning in desperation and fear that dwarfed my own. Squeezing the limp form he curled tightly around, shaking his head for it to just be the twisted nightmare it felt like.

A bloodied, lifeless body in his arms soaked in a puddle of red on the sheets. No welcome home hug. No explanation of where they had been. No telling me that everything was going to work out.

He was dead.

I honestly don't remember many details about what happened after that, aside from the blurred images that still haunt me in my sleep and make it difficult to move on.

I can only remember screaming. Screaming until my throat was raw. Seeing Goku materialize right in front of me out of thin air and making matters even more surreal than I was ready to handle at that moment. Being crouched in a corner, crying my eyes out until I didn't know what was real anymore as I watched Goten still sobbing against Trunks' body, desperately fighting to hold on to him as Goku tried to pull him off.

I think it was his bloodcurdling scream that still echoes in my head the most. Not a scream of fear or anger, or from the sheer shock that his best friend was dead in his arms. It was unmistakable - it was from pain, only to be cut off sharply by a swift chop to the back of his neck, immediately knocking him unconscious.

Goten collapsed face down on the floor next to the bed, and before I was even able to react, Goku told me to stay with Goten until he got back, and then left with Trunks' body as quickly as he came. Leaving me alone with his unconscious son and full of a grief I don't think I'll ever get over.

That final scream still lingers in this apartment. Even now.

I guess the next big question now is where do you go when you're stranded someplace that you don't belong?

Goten is dying.

I know nobody has said it, but I know it's true.

His family's been here every waking second since they found out what happened, taking care of him, waiting for him to regain consciousness, trying to nurse him back to health once he finally opened his eyes. Cleaning him up from the battered and gory condition he wound up here in. Trying so hard to snap him out of it, and continually begging for answers or any sign that he would be all right, only to watch him sink further and further away. Lying in the very same bed I found him in, dying in front of everyone who loves him without a reason why.

Goten has deteriorated into something that barely resembles the man he once was. He hasn't said a word, not a single tear or any sign that he can hear or see the family that begs for him to respond. He won't move. He won't eat, rapidly losing dangerous amounts of weight and looking like a shell of the old Goten I had grown so fond of. He just lies there, eyes glazed over, fixed on the ceiling or out the window, unresponsive to his mother's pleading and crying like he can't even hear her. Ignoring everything around him. Slowly fading away from us.

I would like to think he's going to be all right, but it's become clear now that everyone has stopped running around trying to help, that they have accepted Goten's slipping away as inevitable.

Oddly enough, Goku isn't here most of the time anymore. I've overheard him talking with Gohan a few days ago about 'Dragonballs' and place called 'New Namek' before taking off to see someone called 'Dende', but I don't dare ask my questions about what's going on during such a private and painful time for the Son's. I've only overheard him explain to his older son that he felt Goten exert an incredible amount of energy just moments before he felt Trunks' cut out completely, but that's about all I know, and I don't even understand that. I want to ask so much, but I already feel like I'm wearing my welcome thin by just being here during such a trying family time for them. The last thing they need in addition to everything that's happened is a reminder that I'm still up here in the loft with a front row seat to their family crumbling apart.

So I keep my distance - away from worrying them with more problems, disappearing up here in the loft and quietly stepping around the house to make my presence go unnoticed as much as I can. Crying in my pillow, keeping my insignificant problems that had seemed so important up until a few days ago to myself . Crying in Goten's pillow. In his old bed.

I don't want to be here anymore.

I can't.

I've started to pack, but I don't even know where I'm going to go after... other than I just can't stay here.

I quietly box up some of the last things left on my dresser, leaving nothing but the linens on the bed and a few random things still hanging in the coat closet downstairs. I've done everything I can to keep myself busy today, but I'm running out of things to do and I'm not even remotely tired. I'm already dreading trying to fall asleep tonight, as with every night, it's easier to just exhaust myself until I can't remember passing out instead of closing my eyes to the visions I can't keep from flooding through my head. Forcing myself to stay awake, because being awake isn't nearly as bad as the dreams.

My footsteps squeak and creak through the ceiling beams with volume that seems deafening. This apartment has become as quiet as a tomb. There haven't been many people stopping by anymore, and I think the silence is proving to be worse than the chaos. Now, everyone's waiting for the same thing. It's only a matter of time.

I gently sit on the edge of my bed and curl up into a ball against my blanket, feeling like the thinnest piece of glass starting to crack and ready to shatter from the slightest touch. Wishing my presence didn't seem so incredibly awkward and intrusive like it does, as the thick silence is only ever broken by whispers I feel I'm not supposed to hear. Right now, it's just me and Goku in the apartment with him. Gohan took Chi Chi home this morning and I already know she's not coming back. Having to hear a mother say good bye to her dying son isn't a memory you want to have, but I know I'm not ever going to forget it, as much as I want to. They know this is the end.

The sudden slide of the metal front door startles me from drowning in my thoughts. I quickly wipe my eyes with the cuff of my shirt and carefully peek over the railing behind the headboard of the bed to see who has come in, almost dreading who or what could be at this point. I've long given up on good news ever coming here.

Vegeta.

I duck down and instinctively hold my breath, as if scared he'll hear me breathing up here. Of all the people who lived at Capsule Corporation, I probably saw him the least of all, but it wasn't by chance. He scares me, no matter what kind of stories I've heard from my dad telling me how tame he's gotten over the years. Anyone who can detach that far from any kind of emotion chills my spine. I start to worry why he's here.

He walks into the apartment with not so much as a glance around, even though I know for a fact he's never been here before. He walks straight to the sleeping man slumped in the arm chair next to the bed Goten still lays in. If I'm not somehow mistaken, there's almost a gentleness to his steps -respect even. His low gruff voice is too quiet to make out from up here, but before I can listen closer, the two men walk outside onto the balcony to talk in private. Away from listening ears.

I feel like a stranger.

My mind races to the possibilities of what Vegeta could possibly be here for. He hasn't been here at all since Goten's return, despite Capsule Corporation only being right on the other side of town. I can understand that he did just lose his own son only days ago, but even Bulma has been here twice to see Goten, still grieving over Trunks' death and trying to come to terms with this as much as anyone. Maybe I just didn't expect her husband to be included with the rest of us. He's never been the best at acting human.

Several minutes pass. I can see their silhouettes in the glass. From what I can hear, Vegeta does most of the talking, but it's quick. Before their conversation is even finished, he's already making his way back to the door to leave, and their volume picks up to a level I don't have to pretend I can't hear anymore, even if they aren't aware that I'm listening at this point.

"Let him go, Kakarott. You want to help your son? Let him go."

"I will not sit here and just watch him die in front of my eyes! Please... Tell me how to help him! I... I just don't understand why this is happening... You have to tell me how to help him!"

Such a desperate plea sounds so strange coming from Goku, and it catches me off guard. He's normally so strong and confident and sure everything will work out. Now his voice sounds horse and strained, almost panicked.

There's no answer.

"Please, Vegeta..."

Witnessing the strongest man on the planet - possibly in the entire universe - begging for help to save his son is painful to hear. I can feel my throat closing up again, and I squeeze my blanket tightly as to not cry out loud, but it's no help for the tears spilling freely down my face and soaking into the pillow.

There's a silence. The footsteps headed to the door have stopped.

"There's a very strong bond that has been broken, Kakarott. Had your son been a full Saiyan instead of the half breed he is, he would have died along with Trunks in battle like he should have, but his human side is fighting it. You're fighting it. It was their decision to bond and it is not your right to use those fucking Dragonballs to undo it. No more than it is my right to..." There's a hitch in his voice, nearly a crack. It's obvious what he wants to say. But he doesn't continue.

"I don't know what you're talking about. What bond? My son is dying and..."

"Have you really been this blind to what has been developing between our boys all this time? Those marks on him," he bites out in disgust, "they aren't from battle! They symbolize a bond they've accepted." His voice turns thoughtful, as if he's speaking more to himself than Goku. "It's a Saiyan ritual I taught Trunks when he was younger - to bind your life to another's. I had hopes... but even then, I knew - much to my disappointment - that he would someday pick your half-breed son of all people to bond with, but it wasn't my choice to make for him." He pauses before continuing quietly. "Actually, I thought they had done this a long time ago."

Before Goku responds, Vegeta is quick to regain the signature hostility in his voice that is so much more familiar to hear from him, all though much less convincing then earlier. "My son died in battle, Kakarott. Let yours go. He does not want to live like this."

The words linger in the air. They're hard to understand coming from a man who doesn't display emotion. Even of the few times I've been to Capsule Corporation as a kid, I only remember him as being a very scary, cold man with no regard for anyone else's feelings. But his voice is understanding now, speaking with the same frustration of a father who was helpless to save his own flesh and blood. After years of pointless fighting and competition, there's finally an understanding.

I hear him starting to leave again without a word, but hesitates once the click of the metal latch on the door is opened, speaking away, maybe even to the floor.

"He's in pain, Kakarott. The boy has survived his soul being ripped from his body. I know what he suffers. Respect their bond - Let him go."

And the door slides closed, echoing through the apartment with an eerie finality that catches my breath. I squeeze me eyes closed, wishing myself far away from here as the words echo and twist painfully in my heart.

Once again, I start feeling selfish and sob quietly into the pillow.

"You awake?"

I nod my head from under my blanket, too embarrassed to show my swollen red face and puffy eyes from crying pretty much solid since Vegeta left earlier. It's 4:30am and I still can't find rest, as much as I want to fall asleep.

"I thought you could use some company," he says with the kind of implication that maybe I'm not the only one who needs someone to talk to. He finds a clean path to walk though, carefully stepping around the boxes and clothes scattered over the floor before softly sitting down on the corner of my bed. Even now, it still amazes me how someone so strong can be so gentle. It's easy to see where Goten gets it from.

"Gohan took Chi Chi home." He looks over at me, but I keep my focus down. "But I guess you know that, huh?"

Again, I nod, this time lifting my head from hiding to find a simple sympathetic smile given to me. I've known Goku for as long as I can remember, as opposed to everyone who lived with his absence for so many years before. He's my father's best friend, so even if I wasn't around all of the time, I certainly heard all about all of the things he's done in the past. I don't think there's anyone on Earth who hasn't. But somehow, I feel that none of that matters at times like this. No amount of strength could counter the pain.

He picks up a dried rose petal lying on the top of the dresser next to the bed, idly smoothing it between his fingers. "I think it got to be a little too much for her. Chi's a... well, a hell of a strong woman, but she's... it's alot to take in now. She's older than the last time she went through this with me or Gohan, but even then she's never had to sit through and watch like this. Watching it happen without being able to do anything," he says, speaking to himself barely louder than a whisper. "She's never lost Goten. I just didn't think she should be here anymore."

He doesn't have to explain to me, although I have to admit I've wondered why Goku decided to stay with Goten here instead of taking him back home, especially now that he knows this is truly it. I just keep forgetting that Chi Chi has been around to watch both her son and her husband die on more than one occasion, and regardless of being able to be wished back or not, I can't imagine this gets any easier.

But even as I've sat up here in the loft watching as Goku's remained diligently at Goten's side, talking to him as though he's going to be all right despite all hope for that slipping away, I can't help but wonder what goes through the mind of the man who has saved a world of strangers hundreds of times over, but now must sit and watch his own son waste away before his eyes and be helpless to stop it.

His expression manages a brave look for me, perhaps knowing that I've been hanging on by a thread having to watch this all happen. Throughout this ordeal, he has never once asked me to leave, or even asked why I've been here in the first place, although I think it's become pretty apparent that I don't have any place else to go. Through some mutual understanding, he hasn't yet told my parents anything about where I've been, even though I know he's talked with them about me and that he knows they're worried about where I am. I'm not brave enough to tell him why I wound up here in the first place, or why I'm too scared to leave.

I feel as if the act I have been putting on to convince myself everything will be okay and like it was is starting to slip. I sniff back the tears and stuffy nose, feeling like a little girl for acting like this, especially in front of someone who's barely seen me since I've grown out of pigtails.

And then I lose it.

"Why... I-I d-don't... I don't understand why he's dying? Why can't anyone help him?! How can everyone just let him die?"

He moves over closer to me, rubbing my back even though there's no way to be gentle about something like this. I almost hate myself for lashing out, but it's becoming too much.

"Goten can't live like this, Marron. He was connected with Trunks for so long, that when Trunks died, Goten's soul went with him. There's not much left of him here anymore, just a shell." He swallows hard. "He's... he's in too much pain... he..." He chokes back what he wanted to say, but he doesn't need to. He explains exactly what I don't want to hear, sounding like he understands this all as much as I do. But he forces a smile, telling me that it hurts just as much to say it out loud, as it does to hear it.

I feel sick.

"Goten did everything he could. He avenged his death, but by all rights, he should have died there with Trunks." He looks past me over the edge of the loft down to the bed where Goten still lies motionless. "You know, it's times like this I wish I knew more about these Saiyan things." He forces a weak laugh. "Funny - I'm one of only two left, and I've never gone through what my own son is going through right now. I wish I could take away his pain. I... I wish I could understand."

There isn't much to be said on either of our parts. We sit in silence. The comfort of him just being here makes it easier to stop feeling so sad. He knows where his son will be going - he's been there before.

"Do you want to talk to him? You can if you'd like..."

"Huh?" My eyes must be expressing the same amount of confusion I feel. Perhaps it's more that I don't want to be presented with the option, since I know what will wind up happening if I go down there.

"He can hear you, Marron. He's still in there... someplace." He gives me the nod to go ahead, ignoring the frightened and hesitant look on my face. "I think you should tell him."

I hold my breath for a second, but warm, comforting eyes find mine telling me to trust him. There's so much sadness within his eyes with so little hope, but I see it. I feel it, too, as it is the same in mine.

I finally exhale with a shaking breath, and I find myself walking down the stairs to a mistake waiting to happen. I shouldn't do this.

With the most hesitant approach, I get within a few feet of his bed, and I can't move any further. I haven't gotten close enough to see the detail of what's happened to him yet and now I know why that was for the best. I didn't want to see him like this. I wanted him to stay as close to the Goten I remember - the strong, handsome, wonderful man that I met that one random day at the office - but seeing now how far he's fallen feels like a punch in my chest.

He's so pale, flushed of all color on his skin. His once soft, warm lips are now cracked and dry, and his eyes - even though they're closed - are dark and sunken into his thinned face, void of any strength or life. His hands have become thin and frail. I can hear his shallow breathing from where I stand, watching his chest barely move with each breath, ready to give up. He's lost so much weight from not eating, and the tee shirt he wears that once used to fit him tightly, now hangs on him as if it is three sizes two big. He's wasting away to nothing.

I stand there for awhile. Too afraid to move closer. Afraid to see what I really don't want to. I cover my gasp with my hand, feeling for the first time that somehow this is all my fault.

His eyes slowly crack open, but not to me. I've woken him.

Instinctively, I walk closer to his bed and kneel beside it, not a second after telling myself I couldn't possibly go any closer. With the most uncertain touch, I delicately smooth my hand over his forehead and down the side of his cheek, shuddering at the unfamiliar feel of how cold his skin is.

I sit on the very edge of the bed, looking down at him with desperate need for him to respond, but he remains lost, looking off someplace else. Tiny spots begin to appear on his shirt from the tears that I've lost all control of shedding.

The emotions snowball quickly, and I automatically reach down to wrap my arms around his fragile frame, sobbing uncontrollably beside his ear, trying unsuccessfully to be soft, "G-Goten... y-you can't d-die! P-Please don't leave me alone. Don't... I c-can't..."

I cry my eyes out. Letting everything go I didn't want to. I need - now more then ever - to hear him say that it's going to be all right, and hold me in his arms and tell me that this is all just a horrible dream that I haven't woken up from yet. That this isn't the end.

"Y-You can't die now, do you hear me?" Fear starts intertwining with an anger borne from my frustration. "You can't! I n-need you! Please Goten, I can't do this on my own..." I reach down to hold his hand, grasping it tightly between mine, feeling nothing in return.

But as my desperation rapidly gets the best of me, I've already forgotten what I vowed to keep to myself. To not burden others with my problems...especially Goten.

Without realizing it, I place his hand flat on my belly, scared to talk, scared to hear the words even come out of my own mouth as I whisper gently, aching for him to feel what I feel, "There's a baby inside of me, Goten. Can you feel it?" I whisper, saying the words out loud for the very first time. My heart breaking as I try to smile, this occasion should be filled with joy and wonder, but there is only grief. "You and Trunks..." I swallow the pain. "... Gotenks - this is his baby. And I need you. Please don't leave me alone. Not now..." The words barely make it out.

And again, my breath stops.

So gently, with such a forced amount of strength to do something so simple, he turns his head to face me, his eyes already glistening with the tears that want to fall. His lips part as his breathing quickens to an irregular pace, and I fear this might be too much for him to hear. My heart stops beating, and I'm more afraid at this moment then I've ever been in my life. This is the first response he's given. Please don't let it be the last...

But through the avalanche of emotions crushing my every sense, I feel the slightest grip of his hand over my shirt, holding the small swell of my belly, feeling the baby's tiny ki radiate through his hand.

With nothing left to say, I curl up around him, positioning myself to rest his head on my abdomen. Not knowing what will happen after now, all though I think it's more that I don't care. I just need him.

"The baby needs you, Goten. I... I can't do this without you."

And I cry myself to sleep, trying not to think that this might possibly be the only time we'll ever be a family together. Even as misshapen and as broken as it might be.