Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unlikely Bond ❯ Tension ( Chapter 18 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or any of the characters! If I did, the anime would never end and GT would have never happened!

Story notes: This takes place ten years after the Buu saga. The only differences I can think of is that the whole thing with the world tournament in the last episode never happened and Goku didn't leave to train Uub. I wouldn't count on anything from the movies being part of this story's time line either, 'cause I haven't seen them all and they usually don't fit into the show's time line anyway. Especially that Broly crap. Vegeta cried through, like, that whole movie! That certainly didn't happen in this story....but, that's a different rant altogether. Hope you enjoy!

PLEASE heed warning in story description!! If you missed it, this story is not for children! It is also not for people who do not like stories that contain elements of violence, strong language, adult situations, references to sex and sexual activity between men and women, and men and other men.


Daikkon tugged nervously at the sleeve of the shirt that he had put on that morning. Since coming to stay at Capsule Corp, Bulma had provided him with several items of clothing to keep as his own. He was overwhelmed by her generosity, even though she shrugged off his words of thanks, telling him they were things that had once belonged to the young prince. But that fact made them even more impressive in his eyes.

Turning down the hallway of the guest wing, he made his way to the kitchen. The Briefs family, as they were called, had also invited him to dine with them in their own eating chamber three times a day. Although the King himself rarely made an appearance at meals, it was a grand honor just the same.

“Good morning, Daikkon.” Bulma smiled at him as he entered the kitchen. She was pouring coffee into a cup, a cigarette dangling from her lips. “You want some coffee?”

“No, thank you, my lady,” he replied, stopping in front of the counter.

“You want tea instead?” she asked. “Maybe juice?”

“Tea would be nice.” He nodded as she turned to retrieve another cup.

“Good morning!”

Bulma and Daikkon turned to greet Mrs. Briefs as she entered the kitchen, Dr. Briefs following casually behind. She continued to chatter as they were seated at the table.

“Isn’t it just a lovely morning! I do believe that this is one of the most beautifully cool summers we have had in years! We should certainly have more patio parties like the one we had last night!”

“If we have them too frequently,” Bulma told her, setting a pitcher of orange juice in the center of the table, “our friends might have heart attacks from having to see us too much.” Mrs. Briefs giggled at the comment.

“Good morning,” Trunks spoke as he came into the room, carrying Bulla on his back.

“Morning!” she cheered.

“Well,” Bulma smiled at her son, “I’m surprised you can walk this morning after all of that fancy footwork last night.” Trunks colored slightly from embarrassment.

“It was all Goten’s doing...” he mumbled, his little sister giggling as he lowered her gently to the ground.

“That’s called peer pressure, son,” she continued with a grin. “And if you can’t say no to joining in bad group dancing, I’m certainly not letting you go away to college.”

Those assembled in the kitchen laughed at his expense. Trunks only shook his head, tilting his head down to hide his smile. The assembly fell silent shortly after Vegeta appeared in the doorway. Everyone except Mrs. Briefs, anyway.

“Oh, Vegeta dear!” she chirped upon seeing him. “You haven’t joined us for breakfast in weeks!”

Daikkon stood from his seat as Vegeta strolled into the room and settled in a chair between his wife and Bulla. Daikkon sat back down. The room remained silent as the kitchen bots buzzed this way and that, setting plates of food upon the table. After unloading what seemed to be impossibly large amounts of eggs, toast, ham and potatoes, the tiny metal droids zoomed back into the kitchen.

Bulma turned her head slightly, watching Vegeta out of the corner of her eye. He seemed his rather arrogantly quiet, disgruntled self. She nudged him playfully in the thigh with her knee. He only very subtly nudged back, but it made her smile.

After everyone had begun eating, Trunks turned to address his mother.

“Mom,” he began, “Goten asked me if I could go into the city with him today. His mother is taking him to get a suit for his senior photos, and he wants me for moral support.”

“You mean he wants you to be able to help convince her to let him buy something ‘cool’.” She teased.

“Well....yeah, I guess,” he replied with a grin. “But can you blame him? You have seen Gohan’s senior photo, right?”

“It’s in my wallet next to yours!" she laughed. "I suppose I can’t let Goten die of embarrassment. Yes, you may go.”

“I want to go, too!” Bulla piped up. “Can I!?”

“No, sweetie. Goten invited Trunks. I don’t want Chi Chi to have to watch after you.” Bulla pouted, thrusting out her lower lip.

“I don’t need watching after!” she stated forcefully, tossing her teal locks off of her shoulder. “I want to help Goten pick out a suit!”

“Bulla,” Trunks began in a soothing tone, but he didn’t get to finish.

“No.”

All eyes turned to Vegeta, who set down his fork and regarded his daughter with a serious expression. Bulla’s mouth dropped in shock that he would deny her.

“But Papa -”

“I said no,” he repeated. “You are not leaving this house. Either of you.” It was Trunks’ turn to register shock. “Let the Sons worry about their own. You will have to entertain yourself.” he finished, turning his dark eyes from Bulla to Trunks. "And I have work for the boy.”

Bulla grumpily folded her arms and leaned back in her chair. Trunks merely stared openly at his father.

“Problem?” Vegeta asked him pointedly. Trunks lowered his eyes, backing down.

“No, sir,” he replied.

Bulma looked upon her son with sympathy, mouthing the words ‘It’s okay’ when he met her gaze.

Mrs. Briefs seemed to be the only one who didn’t register the tension in the room.

“So, Daikkon!” she spoke to their guest. “What kinds of food do you have on your Saiyan planet?”

Bulma turned quickly to look at Vegeta and could see the way the muscles in his arms contracted sharply in irritation.

“Well,” Daikkon replied thoughtfully, “I have never had the pleasure of seeing my home planet, but Saiyans eat pretty much the same things as humans do. Excluding your processed foods. Mainly meat from wild animals, as there was no domestication. But also vegetables, grains and fruits. Many things you are familiar with, just of a different species.”

“How lovely!” she replied. “What about desserts?”

Bulma tried not to laugh at the throaty grunt of disgust Vegeta made. She could almost hear him berating her mother in his mind.

“Uh...” Daikkon considered a moment. “I really cannot say with any certainty if Saiyans partook of desserts, as you would think of them. I know as a child, my mother made me a treat that she said her mother had made for her.” He smiled at the memory. “Roasted wild berries sweetened with nectar.”

Everyone’s attention turned quickly from Daikkon to Vegeta, who had apparently knocked over his glass as he was reaching for it. Juice spilled across the table, winding its way around the dishes.

“Damnit!” Vegeta barked, quickly righting the tumbler. Bulma blotted at the spill with her napkin as a cleaning bot quickly descended upon the mess, vacuuming it away.

“It’s okay, dear,” she spoke. Vegeta’s eyes had darkened considerably, his eyebrows drawn together in annoyance.

“That sounds lovely!” Mrs. Briefs continued, as if there was no distraction from Daikkon's tale. “And your mother was a Saiyan?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, his eyes darting back to Vegeta. “And very proudly so. My parents were happy to serve the Saiyan empire and its king, as I do now.”

Vegeta was glaring at him, causing him to look away. Mrs. Briefs asked another question.

“Where are they now?”

“They are gone now, ma’am,” he replied, a bit of sadness in his tone. Bulla, who had appeared to be ignoring them until now, spoke.

“Your mama and papa are dead?” she asked, concerned.

“Yes, princess,” he answered her. She turned to look at her own parents, as if the thought of their mortality had not occurred to her until now. Vegeta continued to eat, and Bulma smiled warmly at the child. Bulla’s eyes moved past her parents to her grandparents sitting at the end of the table. She looked between them, back to Bulma, then at last at Vegeta.

She rested her hand on his, insistently pressing her face into his line of sight until he acknowledged her.

“Papa...” she spoke in a soft voice. “Where are your mama and papa?”

Vegeta felt as though his throat had closed as he tried to swallow the bite of food in his mouth. He heard Bulma speak some sort of admonishment, and Trunks’ gentle tone chided her as well. He looked down into the girl’s face, considering what to say.

“We will speak of this later.” he told her, wiping his mouth on his napkin and standing. “Trunks.”

The boy knew that his name was spoken as a command, and he stood, following his father toward the back door.

“Daikkon.”

The young Saiyan understood the same, and excused himself to follow the prince out into the back yard. Vegeta walked toward the gravity capsule, Trunks and Daikkon trailing behind. He stopped at the ramp of the capsule and turned to Daikkon, his eyes ominous.

“You will never again speak of the Saiyans in front of the girl, do you understand!” Vegeta growled. Daikkon nodded without question.

“Yes, my lord.” Vegeta’s scowl did not lessen.

“You will never again speak of the Saiyans in front of me, do you understand!” Daikkon again nodded, numbly. He could not imagine how he had offended him so.

“As you desire, my king.”

“I’m not a king,” Vegeta spoke sternly. Daikkon looked surprised and questioningly at him. “My father had not a proper burial, nor I a proper coronation. The right was not passed to me.” He took Trunks by the arm and directed him to enter the capsule. “I remain only a prince.”

“But my lord,” Daikkon replied, “in times of war it is not always possible for tradition to be observed. You have every right to claim the throne.”

Vegeta turned sharply, causing Daikkon to stop in his tracks.

“What didn’t you understand?” he sneered.

“Nothing,” he answered. “I understand perfectly...my prince.”

Vegeta turned back from him to join Trunks inside the gravity capsule. Daikkon stared after him, watching until the hatch slowly rose and locked into place. What could he have said that had upset Vegeta in such a manner?

“Hey.” Bulma came to stand next to him. “Don’t pay Vegeta any attention. He doesn’t like to speak of his past.”

“But why?” Daikkon asked in disbelief. “He is the rightful ruler of all the Saiyan people, no matter how great or how small their number. His mother and father were well loved and admired by their people.”

“But not by their son.” She spoke with a bit of sadness in her tone. “Look, I know this is hard for you, but what’s more important to me is what is hard for him.”

“As it is to me, my lady,” he replied.

“Good. Just give him some time.” He nodded.

“Of course,” she finished, resting her hands on her hips and looking up at Capsule three, “what I'm really concerned about right now is Trunks. I need a plan.”

Chi Chi had outdone herself with breakfast. After both Goku and Goten had eaten their fill and them some, she herded them out into the living room to relax so she could clean up.

Goku dropped down onto the sofa and rested his bare feet on the coffee table. He was still dressed in his pajamas, having transitioned almost right from sleeping to eating. Goten sat down on the opposite end of the couch.

Goku looked over at him and motioned for him to come nearer, which he did, scooting down until he was next to his father. Goku put an arm around him and pulled him close.

“Aw, Dad...” Goten groaned, embarrassed by the affection.

“Hush,” Goku laughed. “Your friends can’t see you.”

“But Dad,” Goten tried to rationalize, “I am seventeen...” Goku shrugged and kissed his youngest on the forehead.

“Seventeen or seventy, you will always be my son.”

Goten shook his head but stayed put. Sure, it would have been more embarrassing if his friends had been there, but at least he knew that his father cared.

“So,” Goku spoke. “Your mother tells me she is taking you into town to buy a suit.”

“Yep,” Goten answered. “You going with us?”

“Oh no,” Goku replied with humor in his voice. “I don’t know a thing about suits! I think I only ever wore one twice in my whole life! Once when I married your mother and once when she made go to an interview at some middle school your brother was going to go to.” He shook his head. “I only know that they are hot and itchy and there is never enough room in the rise.”

Goten hid his face against his father’s chest to chuckle at his statement.

“Um...I think that just might be you, Dad,” he replied when his laughter subsided.

“Well, just the same. I hate suits. Good luck.”

Chi Chi came into the living room and smiled at the sight. She hated to break up their moment.

“Goten,” she spoke. “You need to get in the shower if we are to get into the city by noon.”

Goten nodded, pulling himself from his father’s embrace.

“Gotcha.”

When Goten disappeared up the stairs, Chi Chi leaned over the couch, wrapping her arms around Goku’s neck and laying a tender kiss on his cheek.

“I will start a fire to heat a bath for you if you want to bring up some water,” she said to him. As their home was small, the bathrooms held only stall showers. If anyone wanted a bath, water had to be brought up from the lake and heated in a tub outside.

“Nah,” he replied, holding her arms against him. “Shower’s fine. Heck, I’m not even sure I will be dressed by the time you get home. I may just take a nap here.”

Chi Chi held on to him a moment, trying to will comfort into his mind. After what he had confided in her last night, she didn’t even want to leave him today. She wanted to stay by his side. But he had begged her to continue on as normal so that Goten would not be the wiser.

“I love you, Son Goku...” she murmured into his ear. Goku smiled.

“I love you too, Chi,” he replied.

“Are you sure that you don’t want me to stay? I can just give Goten some money and send him to the tailor. Trunks is supposed to meet us down there, and I know he will not let Goten be too wild.”

“Chi Chi.” Goku turned to her. “I will be fine here.”

“Maybe I could call Gohan to come sit with you,” she suggested. Goku’s tone became serious, his eyes locking with hers.

“Honey, I don’t want Gohan to think anything is wrong, either. I just need to get back to normal and let the past lie.”

Chi Chi nodded, reluctantly. Every time she laid eyes upon him, she had to fight back the threatening onslaught of tears.

“I know,” she whispered. “Is there at least something I can get you while I’m in town?”

He smiled widely at her.

“Maybe some ice cream.”

Chi Chi smiled back, in spite of herself. She kissed him once more on the mouth before heading upstairs to dress.

Soon she and Goten both returned downstairs, and with a promise to be quick, they left for West City.

Goku lay back on the couch, enjoying the quiet. He turned over in his mind the many things that he could do today, all by himself. He could go fishing. Or to the Lookout to visit Piccolo. Or, he could stay right there on the couch. He had to admit, the latter seemed the most appealing.

As he sat, his arms folded across his chest, he began to doze off. His mind was peacefully blank for a few moments, and he actually felt at ease. The feeling was short lived, however, and he jerked awake with the passing of a fearful feeling.

Goku blinked, sitting up. He yawned, stretching his arms above his head. It was getting warm in the house, and he was uncomfortable in the pajamas that he had slept in the whole night. Wearily, he pulled himself to his feet and headed up the stairs to his room. He stopped in the middle of the staircase, feeling momentarily light-headed. He held out his hand to the wall for support as the feeling quickly passed.

Assuring himself that it was just fatigue, he continued up the stairs and into his bedroom. Peeling the pajama shirt from his torso, he tossed it into the hamper by the door and walked into the bathroom.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror for a moment. His eyes were a bit darker than normal, and his skin was maybe a shade too pale. The loss of sleep was starting to catch up with him.

Goku turned on the water and leaned down to the basin, splashing the cold liquid on face. The icy water sent chills down his spine and perked him up a bit. He shook the water from his face and stood upright.

The room was spinning.

Goku threw his hand out to grab the wall, but it didn’t stop him from dropping painfully to one knee. He brought his hand back, resting it on his head as if he could physically still the vertigo. It took a moment, but slowly the feeling of motion came to a halt.

Goku felt his breath hitch in his throat and his stomach lurched, forcefully returning the breakfast that he had that morning. He was lucky he was already on his knees, now cradling the toilet bowl in his arms. Again the nausea washed over him, twisting in his gut and pouring out the contents of his stomach.

When the spasms subsided, Goku slowly pushed himself back from the toilet and leaned against the wall. He was already feeling much better. Something he ate must not have agreed with him, he told himself. So he sat there, as still as possible, waiting for the ache in his stomach to disappear.

It took almost twenty minutes for him to regain the will to stand. Before the feeling could come back, he showered, brushed his teeth and dressed, then returned to the living room sofa.

He lay there, breathing deeply. He couldn’t remember the last time that he had been ill. Before the fight with the androids, maybe? That seemed so long ago. He and Vegeta were at the height of their rivalry then. He frowned, saddened to think that maybe they had finally come full circle. They had been as good of friends as they would ever be, and now Vegeta was back to hating the very fact that he drew breath.

Goku sighed, rolling onto his side and pulling a pillow close to him. How could it be that Vegeta was so mad at him? He had done nothing but wish that he could forget the event and get on with his life. But Vegeta seemed to hoard misery, as if he didn’t have anything to make him feel pain, he might not be able to feel at all.

And that thought made Goku even sadder.

Goten shut the door to the dressing room and secured the latch He discarded the pants that he had over his arm and pulled out his cell phone. Trunks’ number was at the top of his phone book, and he punched the dial button, waiting impatiently as it rang.

“Yeah!” Trunks answered, sounding quite out of breath.

“Man, where are you!?” Goten hissed into the phone. “My mom is driving me crazy! I’ve never felt so rushed in my life!”

“Sorry,” Trunks replied. “I’m just getting out of the shower now. My mom told me I could go, but at the last minute, my dad made me go with him to the gravity capsule so he could beat the will to live out of me.” Goten frowned at the tone of Trunks’ voice. “My mom came in and told him that she had something important to discuss with him. I think he knew that was a line, but he let me go anyway. I’m on my way now.”

“You are not going to get here in time. I mean, I thought that once we got here it would be hours and hours of trying on wool sport coats or something. But I feel like I’m in a race. My mother could not possibly be pushing me faster.”

As if on cue, there was a knock on the dressing room door, followed by his mother’s voice.

“Goten, honey, how do those fit? Do you have them on? How is the length? I want to see.”

“See what I mean?” Goten whispered harshly into the phone.

“I’m in the air right now, bro,” Trunks assured him. “It will take me ten minutes.”

“We might be gone by then. Dude,” Goten didn't hesitate to share his feelings with his friend. “I think there is something wrong at my house.”

Trunks pushed his wet hair out of his face as the wind whipped over him. He pressed the cell phone closer to his ear.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I dunno.” Goten shrugged, dropping his jeans and reaching for the charcoal colored slacks. He propped the phone to his ear with his shoulder. “My dad has been acting a little weird like we talked about the other day. But now my mom is acting weird, too. This morning she made all of this food for breakfast and didn’t bitch once about my dad eating it faster than she could put in on the plate or that he wasn’t dressed. And then she was actin’ like he had some kind of serminal illness.”

“Terminal,” Trunks cut in.

“Whatever.”

Trunks continued.

“Maybe she is just glad to have him back safe.”

“Dude, my dad came back from the dead and wasn’t treated like this. But get this, Trunks.” He lowered his voice even though he knew his mother didn’t have the superior Saiyan hearing he and the others had. “I had gone up to take a shower, but I had to come back downstairs to ask my mom for a towel. Anyway, I heard her ask my dad if he wanted Gohan to come sit with him while we were gone, and he told her that he didn’t want Gohan thinking there was anything wrong, either.”

“Maybe what he meant is that your mother thinks there is something wrong with him, and there isn’t, so he doesn’t want your brother to think the same,” Trunks ventured.

“Good try, but I don’t think so. Look, the pants are on. I gotta go. Get here soon.”

“Gotcha.”

Goten hung up the phone and stepped out of the dressing room. His mother hurried to his side, turning him to examine the way the trousers fell at his feet.

“How do those feel?” she asked. “I don’t like the way they’re sitting on your hips. I think you need a smaller waist size.”

“Mom,” he replied, but not protesting as she pulled them up. “That’s the way they’re supposed to sit. It’s the style.”

“You’d wear them around your knees if that was the style, Goten,” she remarked, kneeling down to check the length by his ankle. “Do you like them?”

He shrugged.

“They’re okay.”

She stood and looked into his eyes.

“Which suit do you really want?” she asked.

Goten shrugged and looked over to the wall where the mannequins were dressed in more trendy attire. He indicated the one in the deep blue suit and matching shirt with the silver silk tie.

“That one,” he replied with a sigh.

Chi Chi looked from the suit back to her son. His face was passive and not hopeful at all.

“Go get out of these,” she instructed. “I will send something else in for you.”

Trunks touched down on the roof of the men's wear store where he was to meet Goten. He didn’t want to attract too much attention by landing on the street. With one small hop, for a Saiyan, he reached the ground on the side of the building and walked around to the front to go inside.

“May I help you?” a young sales lady asked, smiling at him. Trunks smiled back, shyly.

“Uh, no. I’m meeting a friend.” He glanced around, catching sight of Goten near the back of the store. He bowed shortly before turning to join his friend.

Goten was standing on the tailor’s stool, having the hem of his trousers pinned and the length of his jacket sleeves marked. He was beaming happily, dressed in a suit of brilliant blue.

“Crap, you look just like your dad!” Goten greeted the other when he noticed his arrival.

“Goten! Language!” Chi Chi reprimanded him. Trunks turned to a nearby mirror, using his fingers to comb down his hair that had dried in the wind.

“So?” Goten continued, once Trunks was more properly groomed. “Whaddaya think?”

Trunks nodded.

“Very nice. You almost look human.” Goten laughed, and Chi Chi only shook her head at the manners that boys found civil.

“Is that all you need?” she asked the tailor, who had put the last pin into the fabric.

“Yes, ma’am. I will wrap up the shirt and tie for you to take home. The alterations should be ready by Tuesday.”

“Thank you very much. Go get dressed, Goten.”

Goten hopped down off the stool and disappeared into the dressing room. Chi Chi and Trunks stood quietly while they waited. Trunks smiled at her.

“How are you this afternoon, Aunt Chi Chi?” he asked.

“Very well, thank you,” she replied. “How is everyone at Capsule Corp?”

“We are well, thank you,” he replied.

“How is your mother?”

Trunks thought the question odd, seeing as they had just seen each other last night.

“She’s very well.” Chi Chi was quiet a minute before asking hesitantly.

“And...and your father?”

Trunks could hear the slightest unease in her voice. And it was highly unlikely for anyone, particularly Chi Chi who greatly disliked him, to be asking after his dad.

“Uh...he is..uh...good...” he answered, unsure of what to say. His father was acting oddly that morning, but questions such as these were really only formalities, right? “He’s well.”

She nodded. Goten joined them, dressed in his everyday clothing, and handed the jacket and slacks to the tailor.

“Mom, do you mind if I stay in the city with Trunks for a while?” Goten asked her.

Chi Chi appeared torn between whether or not to allow it.

“Well, I don’t know what your father would say..” she began.

“Mom! Dad always lets me hang out with Trunks.” She sighed before rifling through her purse and taking out ten zeni.

“Here. Buy lunch with this, and do not just eat junk.” Goten nodded, taking the bills and placing them in his pocket. “And be in before dark,” she finished.

“Yes, Mom,” he answered.

Trunks and Goten watched her take her package from the sales girl and leave the store. Goten turned to his friend.

“Okay, this really seals it. Not only did my mom just not fight with me about staying out, but she also just bought me a suit that she hates that costs more than it will cost to buy all of my school clothes for this year.”

“Goten, maybe she is just glad to have you home alive. You are her ‘baby’, you know,” Trunks said.

“I thought about that.” Goten paused in his statement to smile roguishly at the sales girl as they left the shop. Once out onto the sidewalk, he continued. “My dad is the one who is acting like I was in danger.”

“You had to share a room with Bulla for four days,” Trunks laughed. “Sounds perilous to me.” Goten grimaced.

“Seriously, bro. I’m dyin’ to know what is going on. Oh, I know! Let’s go back to your place and harass Daikkon until he tells us what those Saiyans told our dads to make ‘em so weird.”

Trunks shook his head.

“I think that after this morning, Daikkon might forget everything he knows about Saiyans. My dad got on him about talking about Saiyans in front of Bulla.” Goten smiled, his eyes lighting up eagerly.

“What did he say about them?” Trunks grimaced.

“Nothing dirty, you horny ape,” he replied, giving the younger a punch in the arm. “He was just talking about his mom and dad, and how they were deceased, and it made Bulla ask Papa about his own mom and dad. That did not make him happy one bit.”

“Huh.” Goten considered Trunks words. “Interesting. I can see why, though. No offense, but I never really thought of your dad having a mom and dad of his own. He just seemed to be the type that crawled out of someone’s cut off head one day.”

Trunks frowned.

“My dad is not a monster,” he retorted, obviously having taken a bit of offense. “He’s just...not like your dad, that’s all.”

Goten shrugged, spotting a cute teenage girl selling ice cream from a cart by the park. He nudged Trunks in the side and motioned to turn her way.

“You’re lucky, I guess,” he replied, his hand already fishing money out of his pocket before they crossed the street. “My dad’s been all huggin’ on me and kissin’ me and whatnot. It’s a little embarrassing.”

Trunks slowed his pace and watched his friend approach the cart and begin his verbal flirtation as he ordered a cone. In his mind, he replayed that morning’s spar with his father, and the many others on many other days. Thousands of kicks, thousands of punches, thousands of ki blasts. Tens of thousands of looks of disgust. But there was only time in his life he could remember his father hugging him.


A/N: I think I officially have carpal tunnel syndrome. I have been consumed with this story since starting to write it. Unfortunately, I think I need to take a bit to fine tune the next couple of chapters. They are very emotionally heavy and more than a bit draining. I will try to update by next weekend, but I can’t guarantee. Thank you SO much to everyone who reviews!Hope you like this one. Enjoy!

A/N: Update = Fixing my crazy errors. Big BIG thank you to Rowina for beta reading!!