Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Young Man's Heart ❯ An Ugly Design ( Chapter 9 )

~Change~
It just never fades. This existence has its ups and downs, but it never fades. And it never changes.

~Is Futile~

 

Papa Roach - Time And Time Again

 

Yes I did it and I'll do it again
It doesn't matter if I am your best friend
I don't think so
You're not that smart
Over and over it breaks my heart
The cycle continues time for your crime
The pain comes back in an ugly design
Her makeup smears
The tears that she cries
Over and over every night

Emotional swords slash my soul
And now the pain it takes control
I think about you
I think about me
Think about the way that it used to be
I need a bottle
I need some pills
I need a friend
And I need some thrills
A shoulder to cry on a friend to depend on
When life gets rough

Time and time again
You think about yourself before you think about me
Time and time again
You think about yourself before you think about me

It's like a fight every single day
It's always easy when you have it your way
Deep in my heart
In the depths of my soul
My selfish ways are out of control
I'm sorry that it comes down to this
I punch through the wall as I break my fist
The makeup smears
Tears that we cry
Over and over every night

Time and time again
You think about yourself before you think about me
Time and time again
You think about yourself before you think about me

You're so selfish
You're making me want to end this relationship
You're making me want to end this

Time and time again
You think about yourself before you think about me
Time and time again
You think about yourself before you think about me

Loving ties unwind
Lost time behind
Loving ties unwind
Lost time behind

*An Ugly Design*

 

As he finished his plate of food, a tall glass of…something red that appeared in front of Gohan and he dazedly looked up at Derek who was smiling kindly down at him.

 

“It'll make you feel better. Promise.” The younger man held his hand over his heart to prove his sincerity.

 

Gohan took the offered glass gladly. Anything that would make this better had to be a godsend. Lifting it carefully to his lips, not wanting to spill any and knowing that he just might with how off kilter he felt right now, he tipped it up and drank it all down with barely a taste. Sacrificing the taste wasn't all that much of a sacrifice, though, because it didn't taste very good anyway.

 

He set the glass on the table with a *clink* and a gasp, eyes widening as the burn of alcohol spread through his stomach. “….wow…” He rasped the word out.

 

Derek grinned. “Told ya.” Then he pulled Gohan from his seat. “Let's go watch something while we wait for Lian. Kay? And you can pass out again if you really want to, I don't mind.”

 

Gohan merely grunted and let himself be led to the first room by the front door where all the Goths had taken up residence on Friday when Gohan had first come here. Now, there was only a handful of people scattered around the room watching some sort of animated show on the small television above the fireplace. Derek plopped down at the end of one couch and tugged Gohan after him. Still unbalanced, Gohan sprawled down to lean against the teen, which, he realized dully, was Derek's intent all along because the younger man had his arm open and waiting to catch him. So Gohan found himself half laying on the couch, his head pillowed on Derek's chest, and he really didn't have either the drive nor the concern left in himself to argue.

 

In fact…he was comfortable, he wasn't laying on his bad shoulder, Derek obviously didn't mind, and he was sooooooo out of it anyway that it really didn't matter just so long as he could close his eyes for a while longer. So Gohan did just that and sighed and closed his eyes, willing the pounding between his temples to stop. Amazingly, it had dulled a little already. He was happy to just lay here and drift. Absently he heard himself talking. It took a second for him to concentrate enough to actually understand what he was saying, but it did make sense even though he didn't want to move.

 

“I should really probably go home…sometime…I've got…work tomorrow…”

 

He could feel fingers ruffling through his spikes and sighed again. It felt nice. Derek's soft voice fluttered over his ears with a hint of amusement. “I know, Angel. But you're really in no condition to walk home all by yourself. Wait till Lian gets here. She'll take you home. Just relax till then, okay?”

 

“Hhm.” Gohan's last bit of tension left him and he let himself drift.

 

 

“Angel…”

 

A hand rested on his side and shook him gently. “Angel…”

 

Gohan groaned and opened his eyes sleepily to see bright, smiling blue eyes and golden curls looking back. “…mmm…hi.” He greeted with a rasp before clearing his throat.

 

Lian giggled and snuggled up against him. “Man, you can really sleep, can't you? How ya doin?”

 

Gohan blinked around the room. Everything was just as it had been when he fell asleep and he was still laying on Derek's thin, warm chest. It couldn't have been more than an hour. It struck him again that Derek's scent was so familiar, comfortable somehow. Finally he answered Lian's question.

 

“I don't know…” He clenched and unclenched his hands slowly, feeling his fingers tingle slightly. “I'm kinda numb.”

 

Lian nodded in understanding. “Oh, that's alright. That'll go away when you start moving around.”

 

Gohan gave a tiny moan and pushed upright, hunching over to rest his head in his hands, propped on his knees. “I should really go home…”

 

Lian wrapped her arm around his waist and squeezed fondly. “Ok, Angel. I figured you would. It's been a long weekend. I'll walk you home so you can sleep it off.”

 

By the time Gohan found his feet, Derek had handed his jacket to him and Lian had taken his arm and was leading him out and down the steps of the porch. Hope slowly faded behind him as he walked, putting one foot dutifully in front of the other as Lian held his hand and chatted happily.

 

Soon, Gohan found that what Lian had told him was true and he did start to feel better now that he was moving. He even started to pay attention to Lian's continuous ramblings, which was a good thing because he realized that she was talking about him.

 

“…I couldn't believe it. It was kind of weird, you know, but I guess with your metabolism, it's not, really. But Greg sure was surprised. He's always been an asshole. He belongs upstairs with the rest of them. I swear, though, I thought he was gonna shit kittens. I've never seen anyone get hyper like that before. And Greg thought he was gonna get one over on the new guy. Idiot. I bet he'll think twice next time he tries to slip someone a roofy.” She paused thoughtfully. “But then again…maybe not. He's not the brightest.”

 

Gohan stared, brow furrowed. “What?”

 

Lian looked up at him, startled. “What?”

 

Gohan wasn't quite up to this level of mental sparring yet. “…What?”

 

Lian blinked at him. “What…oh, Greg? He's one of the guys upstairs. The jocks. In the game room? Remember? He gave you a roofy. I tried to catch you, but you were having so much fun that it was kinda hard to get your attention. And then you got so hyper. Dude! I thought that maybe you'd gotten speed instead…but nope. Greg was just as shocked. Especially when he tried to move on you again and you threw him over the pool table. Good choice, I might add.” She grinned. “Greg's a real slimeball.”

 

“Uh…” Gohan frowned at the sidewalk as they continued, trying to filter through all the blurred images and pictures in his mind to search up what Lian was telling him. Finally he found something that might match the story she was telling him, but his memory was so blurred that he couldn't be sure.

 

“…Uh…I don't think…I meant to do that. He just startled me. He grabbed my tail, right? Um…” He quickly made a mental check and found to his relief that his tail was wrapped discretely around his waist beneath his shirt again. Good. No more attention on that. “When did my tail come out…? I mean…when…did I…?” He was rather uncomfortable about this subject.

 

Lian looked up at him again and laughed good naturedly. “Um…I don't know. I guess it might have been when we were playing cards in the kitchen. You were so good at your poker face…I think that Derek was getting tired of losing.” She giggled, remembering something very funny. “We could all tell that something was going on. You got so stiff and rigid. I figured that Derek was maybe…you know…under the table…” She blushed and grinned up at Gohan who merely stared back, not understanding at all what she was alluding to. “And then…well…then you started purring like a cat and stopped playing all together…well. We just had to see. You were so uncomfortable and tried to hide it, but there's really no reason that you should. It's a beautiful tail, and so soft and fluffy. You should show it off, not be ashamed of it.”

 

She was trying to look into Gohan's eyes, but he was just looking down at the ground now, so she continued her explanation. “Well, once everyone at the table knew…it was just a matter of time before it got all around the house and then everyone wanted to see. Don't ask me how Shelly got your pants, because I don't know. I only know when you asked me to please go get them back for you. By that time, she had already mended them and was gonna give them back anyway. She was just being playful. She thought it would be more comfortable than leaving it stuffed down your pant leg.”

 

By now, they reached Gohan's apartment and were standing in front, Gohan feeling horribly embarrassed and guilty. Lian looked at him with a small smile and then hugged him tight. “Come on, Angel. Don't be like that. You had a good time, didn't you? You smiled and laughed so much. I know you had fun.”

 

Gohan finally nodded. “Yeah. I had fun.”

 

Lian beamed at him. “I'll see you tomorrow, Angel. Get some rest, okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

Gohan went into his apartment, not sure what to think of everything that had happened at Hope. Lian was right. He had had fun. It had been nice…other than today. Today he felt like something that had been dragged through the mud. But it *had* been nice while it lasted. Slowly, carefully stripping his clothes off, he dropped them on the ground as he shuffled to his bathroom. His little apartment smelled stale and closed, much more than from just a weekend left unused. On the way, Gohan opened up a window, letting the afternoon sun shine in. Oddly enough, the sunshine was actually nice on his skin even if it did make his eyes sting a little. Entering the bathroom, he turned on the hot water and stared at his reflection in the mirror until the steam fogged it over.

 

He looked… He wasn't sure. He looked…tired…overdone. He had overdone it this weekend. That much was true. But he felt…he felt…okay. Tired, but he was numb. And numb was only a neutral step away from happy, wasn't it? At least it wasn't negative. He sort of liked…being numb.

 

He stepped into the shower and let the hot water stream over his skin, leaving goose bumps in its wake and washing away the scent and feel of dozens of people and substances from his skin. He let it all wash away down the drain, leaving him clean and pure.

 

The strange thing was, as he watched the water spiral down the drain, he sort of missed it.

 

 

Gohan stepped out of the bathroom, scrubbing his towel through his spiky hair before wrapping it around his waist and slumping into his big lazy chair with a content groan. He dozed for a short time, welcoming the numb darkness, until a sudden sharp knock made him jerk awake. He lay there for another few seconds, wide eyes glancing around the sunlit room. At a second set of knocks, he pulled his damp towel back around himself, cinching it at the waist and climbing unsteadily out of the chair to answer the door.

 

He found himself looking at Videl's irritated face. Not what he would have chosen if he'd had a choice. At least she hadn't been screeching through the door this time.

 

“Gohan! Do you always answer the door naked??!”

 

Gohan merely tightened his grip on his towel, a glimpse of the last time Videl came over flashing through his mind. “What do you want, Videl?”

 

She glared at him and crossed her arms. “Where have you been? I've been trying to call you all weekend, and so has your mother. You've been ignoring everyone. If you hadn't, you'd know why I'm here!”

 

The demi sighed, his headache beginning to come back, and started to shut the door. He didn't want to deal with Videl and that little voice inside was piping up again, saying he didn't have to. Wasn't that the reason that he'd been so willing to go with Lian in the first place? Because he didn't want to go home? Because he didn't want to deal with `them'?

 

“Gohan!!” Videl's angry face came closer and she stomped her foot in the way before he could close the door.

 

Gohan looked down at the foot stubbornly set in the doorway and then back at Videl, resigned. “What do you want, Videl?”

 

“There's a family reunion today. Your mom wants you to come. So hurry up and get dressed! I'm supposed to bring you!”

 

Gohan barely managed to suppress the whine that wanted to push its way through his throat. `…oh...no…' *That* was the last thing that he wanted to be subjected to after the sort of weekend he'd just had. All he wanted to do was collapse and sleep until he had to drag himself out of bed for work tomorrow. The last thing he wanted was to…be…with them…listen to them talk and watch them spar and explain his life and avoid their stares and pretend… He was too tired to pretend.

 

“Gohan…what happened to your cast??”

 

His attention snapped to Videl and he drew back from the door. Her foot was still in place so he couldn't shut it without hurting her. He didn't want to hurt her. He just wanted her to leave him alone. But that wasn't going to happen. It didn't matter what he wanted. He just had to go along. Just like always. Go along with everyone.

 

“I've got to get dressed.” He fled to his bedroom, knowing full well that was exactly what he was doing. He shut the door and sat on his bed, head in his hands and just breathing. He breathed slowly, calmly, trying to make himself feel as calm as his body felt right now. After only a few moments, though, his bedroom door opened and Videl came in.

 

“Gohan…” She stopped and stared at his room, at the large burned stain on the carpet and scattered broken plaster that littered the floor. “What the hell happened in here?? Gohan! Is that your cast?!”

 

Gohan stood up, not looking at her and went to his closet to start rifling through his clothes. “I'm getting ready, Videl. Go away.”

 

“Gohan! You took off your cast! What the hell are you thinking?!”

 

The demi winced as Videl's voice rose to that ever relentless screech and he spun around. “Damn it! Leave me alone!!” He snarled, and she actually took a step back. He took advantage of her loss of conviction and pushed her out of his room, slamming the door shut.

 

“Gohan!!” She yelled through the door as if expecting him to answer, but she didn't try to come in again. That's all he wanted. Just for her to stay out. Well…no, that wasn't all he wanted. He wanted her to go away completely. Along with everyone else. Just go away. Just leave him alone. Just let him disappear. Was that so hard? Was that so terrible? Just to let him vanish? If no one had to look at him or think about him wouldn't that make everything so much simpler? Wouldn't everyone be better off? Himself included. But no. That couldn't happen. Oh no. They couldn't just let things be like that. He had to conform. They had to coexist. They all had to be perfect. He had to be perfect. He had to try even if it wasn't possible, even if it wouldn't happen. Even if he failed constantly and could never live up to anyone's expectations. You'd think they'd learn. But no. It was still expected.

 

He took a deep breath, feeling that dark, cold cloud descend, and went back to his closet. Had he thought that he'd overdone it this weekend? He should have stayed at Hope just a little longer. Stayed with Lian and Derek for the rest of the day. Just slept on the couch. Something! He should have…

 

He pulled a pair of blue jeans from a shelf in the closet, dropping his damp towel on the ground and climbing into them. They were a little tight, but fit. He really had gained some weight. He glanced in the mirror. Yes, he had gained a little… His muscles weren't so chiseled as they had always been, but his stomach was still flat. He just wasn't as lean anymore.

 

His eyes were drawn to the ugly scarring that covered his left shoulder and chest and back, his fingers tracing over the red lines and the hollow, sunken scar that it all radiated from. A shiver slithered up his spine with the memory of a wet tongue and soft lips gliding along just like his fingers did now. Quickly he shook away the strange feeling and turned away, looking for a shirt that would cover up the scars that traveled halfway down between his shoulder and elbow.

 

He really didn't have many button up shirts. He'd destroyed the Hawaiian shirt Videl had given him with little guilt, plus the shirt on the floor in the living room. Finally, after shifting through the hangers, he found a few more. He pulled out a plain dark blue shirt and gingerly drew it on. By now, though, he paused to try and shift his tail inside his jeans. It was very uncomfortable. After long consideration, he undid his jeans and pushed them down. Carefully, he measured the distance and then used the tiniest bit if ki, then he pulled them back up, his tail threading through the small hole he'd burned through the material. That was…much better…sort of.

 

He pulled his shirt up and turned, eyeing his backside in the mirror. His tail sprouted from his jeans partway down between the pockets in almost a naturally flowing angle. He curled it up and around his waist, through his belt loops even. He chuckled at himself wryly and dropped his shirt, checking to make sure that the tail was totally covered. Good, that should keep it hidden, out of the way, and from being pinched too badly when he moved or sat.

 

Gohan stepped out of his room, closing the door behind him, and grimaced when he saw Videl standing by the front door and examining the bottle that had been left there days before. Suddenly his hands itched and he wanted nothing more than to snatch the pills away from her.

 

“What is this, Gohan?” She asked, still looking at the bottle.

 

Gohan strode over slowly and plucked it out of her hand. “What does it look like?” He snapped and then grabbed his shoes off the ground, sitting in his chair to put them on.

 

She glared at him warily. “It sure seems like a lot. Doctor's don't usually give out that much, do they?”

 

Gohan shrugged. “How would I know? I don't really make it a habit of getting sick.” He replied sarcastically, not even casting a glance in Videl's direction as he tied his laces.

 

“Jeez, Gohan. Get over yourself. It was just a question. What's wrong with you?” Videl grumped back at him.

 

“Nothing's wrong with me!” Gohan spat and then fell silent. He picked up his jacket and went to the bathroom, shutting Videl out and leaning on the sink, stiff and tense once more. He needed to relax. He needed to loosen up. He felt so tightly wound up all of a sudden. He wanted it to go away so badly. He'd been okay until that woman had showed up! The reflection in the mirror had shadowed eyes and a desperate look to it that Gohan didn't like. He didn't like it at all.

 

He looked at the two bottles lined up on the sink and the one in his hand. He was so tempted. So tempted. He picked up the bottle that Lian had spoken so highly of, Phenobarbital. He set down the bottle he had taken from Videl and picked up the other bottle of Vicodin. He looked between the two. One was a high dose of…something…the other was a small dose but was like his first prescription. He looked between the two for a long minute and then set down the Phenobarbital, choosing to twist the lid off the Vicodin. A smaller dose…so… He had liked his first prescription so much. It had been…wonderful.

 

He tipped four pills out of the bottle and into his hand, which he popped into his mouth and turned on the faucet, cupping water in his palms to wash them down with. Then he tucked the bottle into his jacket pocket and went out to allow Videl to lead him home.

Home sweet home.

 

 

At the Capsule Corp. everyone was in high spirits. The group hadn't gotten together like this in quite a while. And, though it wasn't ever voiced, Gohan was the reason for this reunion. The demi sat as far away as he could get from the festivities and the social groups. He still felt that cloud over his head. The overcast atmosphere that said that he was an oddity, that he was a curiosity. That once again he hadn't lived up to expectations, and they were worried about him. He could have died, after all.

 

Then what would have happened? He wondered. What would have happened if he had died? They would have mourned, that much was certain. They would have cried. They would have felt regret and sorrow and sympathy. But in the end…they would have moved on with the knowledge that he really had never been meant for this life and that he was better off now.

 

Of that Gohan had no doubt.

 

And the knowledge made him feel so…bleak.

 

So he answered dully and dutifully whenever asked about his health or his wound. He nodded his acceptance of all well wishes and congratulations on his speedy recovery. He avoided and refused to look at his mother's worried and shocked looks when Videl whispered in her ear about his cast and his recent behavior. What did Videl know? Nothing! She didn't know anything of what was really happening, what really had happened. She didn't really care. She was just upset that she wasn't a part of it, that she was being shut out, that she didn't know. Well she could fucking stay out! He wouldn't give way to her anymore! He wouldn't! Because he didn't want to! He didn't want her.

 

He sat and brooded.

 

He sat and brooded until someone suddenly slapped him on the back and greeted him with overzealous friendliness. Gohan barely flinched, instead he turned to say a restrained “Hi” to Yamcha who was smiling widely. He didn't listen to anything that Yamcha was saying to him. What drew his attention was, in fact, what Yamcha was holding in his hand. “Where'd you get that??” Gohan asked, interrupting the rambling human in mid sentence.

 

Yamcha looked at the beer can in his hand. “This? I brought a whole cooler of it. You can't have a decent party without party favors. I always bring it, but almost no one ever drinks any. You're all too into your sparring and fighting. Not willing to let go for a little while to relax.”

 

Gohan bit the inside of his cheek as he looked at Yamcha hesitantly. “Um…” He wasn't sure. He didn't even know how to come out with it. It was so…different. He…could he? It wasn't expected. It was downright frowned upon, actually. At least by his family. But…Kami…he needed *something*! The pills he had taken had done nothing! The only reason he even knew he had taken them was because his shoulder wasn't twanging painfully.

 

“Um…can I have some?”

 

Yamcha blinked, totally taken by surprise, then he grinned and slapped Gohan on the back again. “Sure! Of course you can. I've got plenty to go around. It's nice to see a Son who can kick back once in a while.”

 

Gohan actually left his brooding corner to follow Yamcha to his cooler where he knelt on the ground while the older human opened it up. Gohan looked in and pulled a can out, looking at it thoughtfully for a second, as if trying to make up his mind. Then he smiled shyly and picked up a second can and glanced up at Yamcha.

 

“One down, one to go?” He smiled a rather uncharacteristic smirk and then cracked open the first can and drank it all down, still kneeling where he was.

 

When he finished, he found Yamcha looking at him with a strangely amused expression as if he was trying to accept what he'd just seen. Then the human laughed and held out his can to clink against Gohan's still unopened one. “Alright, Gohan! Way to go!”

 

Gohan grabbed a third can before rising and walking away and, even though Yamcha had seemed accepting and even encouraging, Gohan could feel his eyes on him as he left. He didn't go back to his brooding corner. He was tired of being where everyone could see him. He didn't want them to see him. He especially didn't want them to see him now, with a beer in each hand like some lush. He rounded a corner and entered a long empty hallway of the C.C. mansion. Everyone was in the main room and the kitchen. There wasn't anyone out here. He was safe.

 

He set one beer down on a hall table and took out his bottle of pills, tipping out six of the little white darlings. He cracked open his second beer and drank the pills down with it, emptying the can just like the first. With a cough and a gasp from the cold liquid burning his throat, he set the can on the little table and leaned against the wall, waiting for the alcohol to take effect. It was taking far too long. Why did he have to try something new? He should have stuck with what he already knew worked. But no, he had to try these new pills, he wanted more. He still wanted more. Anything more.

 

He cracked open the third beer and drank that too, crushing the can and dropping it on the floor. He watched in uninterested depression as a little robot appeared from out of the wall and scooped up the can before disappearing. That worked…at least there wouldn't be any evidence of what he was doing out of sight of his family. Gohan leaned his forehead against the wall and groaned. Why did he feel so guilty? Why the hell should he feel guilty?! It was *HIS* life that was so fucked up! It was *HIS* life that he was trying to get through! What the fuck business was it of theirs?!

 

He knocked the last can off the table and began to walk aimlessly down the hallway. At least now he could feel a tiny bit of the alcohol flowing from his stomach into his veins. It was a peaceful, warm feeling. He wished he had another beer, but he wouldn't go back out there and let Yamcha see him get another. It was none of his business. Walking along, he didn't pay attention to where he went, he merely followed the random twists and turns of Capsule Corp. As he went, he began to feel the effects of the beer and it lent a small smile to his lips. But soon he began to feel strange.

 

He frowned at the carpet ahead of him. It seemed to be moving, slithering along the ground with a mind of its own. Gohan reached to his side for the wall but it wasn't there. Falling, he thumped up against the side of the hallway with a grunt. Ok…the wall was there, he had merely missed when he reached for it. Now, with the wall holding him up, he felt as if the world were tipping and tilting all around him. He tried to get his legs underneath him, but the floor would move and he couldn't catch his footing. Soon he was sliding down the wall and thumped on the ground, still trying to grasp onto something to keep the world from bucking him off of its back.

 

“Boy!”

 

The snapped word echoed through his head with no meaning. He couldn't focus on it, couldn't focus on anything. He felt hard, rough hands take hold of his arms and lift him, but the world was still spinning. His shoulder was in pain, but it was nothing compared to the woozy vertigo he was feeling. One of those strong hands gripped his chin and forced the world to slow in its spin.

 

“Look at me, boy. What's wrong with you?”

 

He knew that gruff voice, that harsh tone, the scent of sweat and blood. Of course, he never liked social gatherings either. He wouldn't be with the rest of them. But it was okay for *HIM* to be antisocial. Gohan's eyes finally found something to latch onto. Slowly, hard, black eyes came into blurry focus, an arched brow, an expression of exasperated, annoyance. At least Vegeta never hid it. Gohan could see it clearly in Vegeta's gaze. He looked openly at Gohan the way the demi knew that all the rest secretly did.

 

Vegeta growled impatiently. “I'm going to get your father, boy.”

 

That helped to bring Gohan some semblance of coherency. He grasped at Vegeta's sweat soaked shirt. “…No…”

 

Vegeta glared at him. “You can't stand on your own. I won't have you littering my home in this state.”

 

Gohan closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. “I'm okay…It's just…It'll go away soon… Don't get dad…please…”

 

Vegeta held him up for another few seconds, considering him. Then he let go and Gohan slid to the ground again. “Fine, brat.”

 

Gohan could hear his decisive boot steps fade as he walked away along with his strong, dominant scent. It made him feel small and alone. Vegeta just left him here. He'd respected his wishes. The older man had actually listened to him. It felt strange…to be listened to. Now he was alone. He was all alone just like he asked to be, and he deserved it. He deserved it.

 

Gohan wasn't sure how much time had gone by when the sound of boots came again. It had been a little while at least. The demi tried to force his eyes open again, tried to gain control of his limbs, tried to push down the dizziness. Who was it? Who was going to see him like this? Who was going to stare and gasp and be so disappointed and aghast at him?

 

Then Vegeta's scent surrounded him and that strong hand grasped his chin again, pressing a cup pressed to his lips. He could smell water in the cup, crisp, clear, and mouthwatering as anything he'd ever smelled. In fact, Gohan was surprised that he hadn't noticed how horribly thirsty he was until now. “Drink already, boy.”

 

He took a deep breath and did as he was directed, letting the cool liquid drip down his throat, trying not to spill too much. It was a lot of water that the older Saiyan was forcing him to drink and there seemed to be no end to it. Gohan gasped for air when the large cup was finally taken from his mouth. He sighed and relaxed against the wall again. Already the world was beginning to slow down, things were starting to clear.

 

He could feel that vast amount of water thinning out the stuff in his stomach and his eyes were starting to focus easier. Gohan looked up at Vegeta who was crouched over him again, his body still radiating heat from his heavy workout. He wasn't sure what to make of the look on the ex-prince's face, but, whatever look it was, Gohan didn't like it. It was almost as if Vegeta knew something, and that knowledge was very distasteful to the older warrior.

 

“You stink of chemicals and beer. Go home.” Vegeta pulled away and stood, adding as an afterthought. “That harpy is looking for you. Leave while you've still got some dignity and I still have my hearing.”

 

Then the prince left again and Gohan was left all alone in the hallway, feeling terrible. Not that he didn't already feel guilty, but now he felt dejected too. It was such a silly way to react. Vegeta had…he had…helped him? And given him advice? It was strange, and it made him feel even stranger than he already did. Why had Vegeta looked at him that way? …Home. Yes. He would go home now. He didn't care about the reunion or that his mom would be upset that he left or that Videl would be pissed because he didn't tell her or wait for her or whatever it was that she wanted from him. No. He didn't care about any of it. Not right now.

 

After much trouble getting his feel under him, though still dizzy, the world around him was stable again, Gohan staggered up to stand and then slowly made his way out of the complex. One hand trailed on the wall all the way to help him balance, stumbling away silently. He left by a door on the opposite side of the C.C. from where everyone was gathered and visiting and enjoying one another's company. As he walked away, he felt a small sting inside, but knew he didn't want to be there. He didn't belong there. He didn't belong much of anywhere, but he especially shouldn't be there. He felt empty and alone again, and lost. He didn't know where he should be, but it wasn't there with his family.

 

The sidewalk felt firm and steady beneath his thin shoes and he drew a small measure of strength from it. Placing one foot in front of the other, he steadily drew further and further away. It was a very long walk back to his apartment from here, but at the moment that was really all he was capable of. He didn't trust himself to try and fly. He'd fall out of the sky before he got anywhere, and though that really wasn't all that terrible a thought to him right now…he knew that he really couldn't do that. That was wrong. So, morosely he stumbled onward, absorbed in his melancholy pity party and wishing that the terrible pounding in his skull would ease again. He'd never had a hangover before, but he had discerned that that was what this awful pain was. He absently wondered as he pressed his palm to his temple, if this could be a double hangover since it had gone away once before coming back to torture him again.

 

A sudden loud honk right beside him jarred his aching skull an he jerked, turning slowly and forcing his eyes back open again. As he turned, the dark thought surfaced that it would be just peachy if after all this, after his shoulder and all his pain and suffering, it would be just fitting if he was hit by a car. The car didn't hit him. It pulled up beside him, though, and two young men looked out at him from inside. It was an older style, small two-seater car, the kind of car where the space right behind the front seats is really the trunk. One of the men stuck his head out the window and squinted at him.

 

“Angel?”

 

The name startled Gohan. It was one thing for Lian to call him that, but he guessed that everyone at Hope probably knew him by that alias by now.

 

“Where ya goin, Angel?” The college student pressed with a considerate smile.

 

Gohan glanced around slowly, getting his bearings. He really hadn't been paying attention to where he was anymore, his head hurt too bad to think about it. He still had a long way to go.

“Um…home.” He replied hesitantly.

 

“Oh. The guy smiled at him and it made the silver chain that hung between his nose and ear sparkle in the evening light. “Need a lift?”

 

Gohan looked around again, trying to wrack his fuzzy brain for some excuse, and then noticed that the sun was going down. He guessed that it would be really late by the time he finally made it to his front door…if he made it at all. He didn't have much strength or energy left at all. Not since that `episode' in the hallway. He was having trouble just walking a straight line. He looked at the little car with a frown.

“Do you have room?”

 

The guy grinned and nodded, the silver chain flashing again in sharp contrast to the heavy dark eyeliner that bordered the young man's blue eyes. He opened the door and then scooted over into the center of the tiny car, making room for Gohan to sit. He patted the seat encouragingly. “Climb on in, dude.”

 

Gohan shuffled over, zombie-like after standing still for just those few moments. His legs really didn't want to move anymore. Gripping the cab with his good arm, he tried to lower himself in, but his knees gave out half way and he slumped heavily into the seat with a soft grunt. The strange thing was that he felt like he was still falling through it, sinking ever further right through the car into the ground beneath. It took a few seconds for that feeling to fade. Carefully tucking his legs inside the small cab, he caught the door and tugged it shut before letting his head tilt back on the seat. Kami…it felt so good to sit down.

 

“Dude, you look seriously faded.”

 

Gohan turned his head slightly to take in the amused grins of both the driver and the other guy. They were good natured grins, not condescending or discouraging or reprimanding. They were just accepting, maybe even a bit hopeful? Gohan grunted something that might have been either affirmative or dismissive. Whatever he looked like, he felt really bad.

 

The car started moving and Gohan closed his headache riddled eyes again, letting the movement lull him. He heard one of the guys light up and could smell the smoke of some sort of cigarette. It was a familiar scent that reminded him very much of Hope. The guy next to him shifted slightly and Gohan glanced over again, his eyes protesting and wanting so much to stay closed.

 

“So, you got anything good, bro?” The man with the nose chain asked, one eyebrow raising and making the piercing there move. It was the driver who had lit up.

 

Gohan made a non-committal noise and shifted, his eyes falling closed. “Not really.”

 

Disappointment and disbelief was obvious in the guy's voice. “Awe, come on, dude. Don't be like that. We're all palls here, right? I did good by you last night, didn't I?”

 

Gohan blinked, trying to figure out what the man next to him was referring to. He couldn't remember. He gave up. It didn't matter. Whatever. He didn't want the stuff anyway. He could definitely part with it. Fumbling in his coat pocket, he fished out the large bottle and handed it over. “Here...it doesn't react well with me. Take it if you want it.”

 

“Dude!”

 

Gohan heard the rattle of pills and the hurried exclamations of glee between the two guys who obviously knew what the pills were and were quite excited about them. `Knock yourselves out,' reflected Gohan absently as his thoughts began to lose cohesion again.

After a little bit, the bottle was placed back in his hand, much lighter than it had been, and Gohan roused himself enough to stick it back into his pocket.

 

“So where do you live, Angel? Where too?”

 

Gohan mumbled out the name of his apartment complex with little thought.

 

“Really? Cool, man! We're neighbors! No problem, dude. We'll be there in no time.” But Gohan was dead to the world by then.

 

When he awoke, sunlight was filtering through the window and he was warm and so comfortable. He didn't want to move. Ever. He certainly didn't want to go to work. The only problem was that his shoulder hurt. It was a dull, throbbing, internal pain, one that he could ignore if he really had to. At length, he decided to roll over and relieve some of the weight on it, but when he tried, he felt something shift against his left side.

 

Prying his sticky eyes open, he realized that…there wasn't a window by his bed…so where was the sun coming from…and…this wasn't his room. The body draped against his was the second giveaway. Groggily, but with some alarm, he pushed out from under the arm and leg that had draped over him during the night and stared at the strange man who was asleep next to him.

 

“What the hell did I do last night…?” He whispered to himself, still staring. His eyes flashed away from the half naked man to his own clothes which were just as they had been when he went to the family reunion the day before, if a bit rumpled and lived in now. Well…that was a little reassuring. A little. He climbed off the bed, the bliss of sleep was quickly fading, leaving behind it a sore body and the shadow of a headache from hell. Gohan searched around for his shoes and found them neatly tucked under the bed alongside two other pairs. He pulled them on and then searched for a clock. A clipped cussword signaled that he had found one and it told him that he was probably going to be late for work this morning. A wry laugh afterwards marked the instant that Gohan realized just how laughable it was that he was worried about getting to work on time when he didn't know where he was.

 

A door opened nearby and a second man walked into the bedroom wearing nothing but a towel around his waist and a silver chain that draped from his ear to his nose, his spiky black hair wet and limp from a shower.

 

“Good morning, Angel. I was just gonna try and wake you up. You sleep like a rock, you know that?” He greeted cheerfully.

 

Gohan blushed and had absolutely no idea what to say. “Um…” He glanced around the room for a second before looking back at the guy, very embarrassed. “Where…uh…I'm…going to be late for work…um…where am I?”

 

The guy smiled. “Not too far, I think. You told us this is your apartment complex, but you were out of it by the time we got here. We didn't know which one was yours. This is F. Which one is your apartment?”

 

Gohan almost sighed in relief. Oh thank goodness. At least a little of his tension faded, though he was still a little taken aback by waking up in bed with a total stranger…or two…but, that had happened at Hope too, hadn't it? Was that just the way things were with these people? Was everyone just so laid back and accepting that it didn't matter who you were or where you ended up? It seemed to Gohan that…a lot of the people he had met through Lian were just…so much more accepting and understanding than he ever thought was possible. They…took care of each other…was that how it was? Gohan ran his hand through his hair with the typical `Son laugh'.

 

“Um…It's B, on the other side…uh…thanks… I mean, thanks for…looking out for me last night. I really can't remember much. I'm sorry I was such trouble.”

 

The guy shrugged and went to rummage through his dresser. “Nah, wasn't any trouble. We wouldn't just dump you somewhere. You can crash with us whenever you want. `Specially after hooking us up like that. What are neighbors for?”

 

Gohan quickly averted his eyes when the man carelessly dropped his towel and started to get dressed right in front of him. “Uh, yeah. Thanks anyway, though. Um…I should get going now…uh…”

 

“Tom.” The guy replied, pulling on a pair of black jeans. He gestured to the man still snoring lightly in the bed. “And that lazy pile over there is Kris. No problem, Angel. See you later.”

 

Gohan left, noting as he went that the small living room of the apartment that looked very similar to his, but with more windows, there was a bed on the ground in the corner and the couch also looked slept in. It seemed that sleepovers weren't uncommon here in Tom and Kris' apartment.

 

After waking up to sunlight in his eyes, it wasn't so bad walking to his apartment. It also helped that his headache was much much better than the day before, but it was still there. When he entered his apartment, he took out the bottle of pills still in his rumpled jacket and tossed it at the kitchen table, not caring where it landed. He wouldn't touch the stuff again, that was sure. It had really screwed him up yesterday and he still felt terribly guilty about it. It wasn't a good feeling. It was actually a very low down feeling. Why did he have to care so much? Why, when all he wanted was to not care. Just for a little while. Maybe everything would be okay…if he could just have a break….for a little while… Just a break from having to think and worry and pretend and go along with everything…a vicious cycle. Again, just like Sunday afternoon, he stripped off on his way to the shower, flinging his clothes haphazardly on the ground and stood under the hot spray, letting it wash everything away again.

 

Finished, he scrubbed the towel through his hair, not even considering brushing it and stared at his reflection in the mirror. The man in the mirror was pale and ghostly and drawn. He looked, in his own opinion, like shit. Dully, mechanically, he took his tried and true bottle of pills and tipped two into his mouth. Then, with equally as little thought, found a shirt to hide beneath and pulled on his rumpled blue jeans with the hole for his tail. He grabbed his pair of sunglasses from the table and resignedly made his way to work. An action that, later that day, he decided was his first mistake. He should have just stayed home and called in sick.

 

First, he was late to work, which wasn't specifically a terrible thing because the college was a rather laid back place to work. It was the mere fact that he was late, however, drew so much attention to him that, considering his recent hospitalization and hardships, everyone in the building felt the need to drop by and question how he was doing and see if he was “ok”. It made him feel like some sort of sideshow. He wished that everyone would just leave him alone. He was late for work, Kamidamnit! Not poised to jump off a bridge or writhing in agony. Though, if this kept up, he just might get to that point.

 

On top of the throng of well wishers, there was a gargantuan load of work waiting for him because some new trainee in the neighboring department hadn't been trained right and no one found out until last Friday. So he had a month and a half of correction work to do before the semester deadline hit in a week. Of course, who got called on to fix everyone else's fuckups? Who got called on when the details weren't all in alignment? Who got called on when nobody else knew how to do it? Him. It was always him. He knew more about the inner workings of this college than the office director did, and what did it get him? It got him a pile of shit up to his eyeballs and a deadline that would give a team of auditors epileptic seizures.

 

And why was it always him?

 

Because, though his family may not have noticed and his loved ones might be blind, everyone at work knew that Gohan was a wiz at organization and making every detail fit perfectly and seamlessly until there wasn't a flaw to be found. It just came naturally to him. Except, lately, he just didn't have the energy for it anymore. Lately he just couldn't seem to get anything to balance. It had all flown out of his hands and scattered to the wind and he was left staring around himself in dismay because he just *couldn't* get it into order again. He couldn't. That was what made this new burden at work so much more intense. Because it made him feel so helpless and ineffective and powerless that, while it all still fell easily into place on paper and in his computer at work, his life and everything else continued to spin into chaos and out of his control.

 

Lastly, his meds, which barely had lasted two hours to begin with, were now wearing off even faster than before. In the wake of his metabolism, his external relief had deserted him to make the way for that horrible tension to tie up his internal organs in knots and make his stomach burn. Even Lian's ever present good nature and bubbly personality did nothing to brighten his days during that first half of the week as his anal-retentive brain fixated on all these things and he worked doggedly through each entire workday and then stayed for half the evenings as well, long after everyone else went home. He lost track of everything but the slowly decreasing pile of shit on his desk and the bottle in his pocket. By Wednesday evening, he was two thirds closer to finishing altering files and recounting sums and reprocessing student id's and their combined fees and payments and amounts balanced or still owed. He was halfway to the deadline and almost to the bottom of the large bottle that sat on the desk beside him.

 

It was late, but the lights were still on. The cleaning crew had already come and gone around him, having moved off to other parts of the building. Gohan barely roused when hands shook his shoulders. His head lay cradled in his arms on his desk, his back cramped and sore from sitting still for so long. Silently, Gohan pushed up, his spiky, ruffled hair sticking up haphazardly, and turned glossy, bloodshot eyes to the person who was disturbing him, not focusing. The person moved over to his desk and pushed aside the stack of folders he had been working on and sat down on the edge. Gohan's eyes went to the pile and he automatically reached out to save it. “Don't do that…” He all but whined.

 

Lian smiled softly at him and began to rifle through the plastic bag in her hand, pulling out something and placing it in his hands. “Angel, you need a break.”

 

Gohan looked uncomprehendingly at the paper wrapped burrito she had brought him. “I've got to finish. I've only got till Monday.”

 

“Eat, Angel. You haven't eaten all week.” Lian leaned back, relaxed against his monitor.

 

Gohan's eyes snapped up and finally focused on her in a sudden panic. “All week??! All week?!! I've only got this week….What day is it?!!”

 

Lian frowned at him. “It's only Wednesday, Angel. Shhh…. You're out of it, man. You *need* to take a break. You're gonna go nutz at this rate.” She reached out and began unwrapping the burrito for him. “Eat this. I got it for you since you've been working so hard. I knew you'd still be here.”

 

Gohan stared at the revealed burrito dumbly, really seeing it for the first time. Gosh…it smelled so good… He took one bite and nearly choked as he swallowed it whole. After a second's hesitation, he fell to devouring the rest ravenously. The entire thing was gone in minutes and then he sat there licking his fingers afterwards, paperwork completely forgotten.

 

Lian smiled and laughed. “I knew it. Have you even eaten at home? I know you haven't eaten here.”

 

Gohan looked away sheepishly, avoiding her eyes. He looked over at the remaining pile of work with an expression of pained resignation. He started to reach for it again, but the blond caught his wrist deftly and pulled him away. Standing, she pulled him out of his chair and out of the cubicle. “Oh no, you don't. You are done for today and you're coming with me.” She dragged him down the isle.

 

After a good fifteen feet, Gohan finally tried to pull back. “My pills…” He looked over his shoulder, but she wouldn't let him stop.

 

“Forget it, Angel. I've seen the way you've been popping them. They're just candy now. We'll get you something else.” She tugged him out of the office and through the dark campus. The night air was cool and fresh compared to the re-circulated air he had lived in for the last three days and Gohan just let himself be pulled along. What was the point anymore? There really was no point. It was just existence. He was existing. What difference did it make where he existed? Kami…he hated his life. Nothing mattered. He let Lian drag him up the dark street.

 

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