Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Young Man's Heart ❯ Bleeding And Bruised ( Chapter 15 )

I Recall The Light

I'm beginning to really get an idea of where this will eventually go. I had always had something in mind, but now it is fleshing itself out better than I ever imagined. And more complexly.

The Dark Smothers Me

Shinedown - Fake Lyrics

This place has begun to cover me
I recall the light, but the dark smothers me
I prefer the feelings I know right now
I don't worry about feeling very proud

You don't know how it feels
To be misunderstood
To reach for the sky
I thought you never would
You don't know how it feels
To be misunderstood
To reach for the sky
I thought you never would

But I'm bleeding, and my hands are bruised
From the grip that I once had on you
And I'm open for a new way
Because there's not much more that I can fake

It's almost seeing your soul for the first time
And watching the mirror show you life in rewind
Capture the ridicule of everyone
I'm tired of trying, and they wonder why I'm gone

You don't know how it feels
To be misunderstood
To reach for the sky
I thought you never would
You don't know how it feels
To be misunderstood
To reach for the sky
I thought you never would

But I'm bleeding, and my hands are bruised
From the grip that I once had on you
And I'm open for a new way
Because there's not much more that I can fake

I can't fake it

 

 

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It was probably such a foolish thought, but…having someone look at him like this felt so very good. As long as someone was looking at him like this, he felt like he could ignore everything else.

 

“So…uh…where are we going?”

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Warnings: Drug and alcohol abuse, adult language, domestic violence, adult situations.

 

Characters: OCs Lian, Tom, Kris, Derek, the orderly. Cameos by Videl, Bulma.

 

 

Bleeding and Bruised

 

He woke up with a gasp, stiffening and then freezing tensely in place. He didn't even dare to breathe until he had a chance to gather his groggy wits and understand what had happened. He was laying alone in his warm soft bed, wrapped snuggly in a heavy blanket and the window across the room was bright with late afternoon sunlight. Nothing looked out of place. Nothing seemed to be wrong. Nothing out of the ordinary happened for a long moment as his eyes moved around the room. He finally started to relax again only to have a very sharp internal pain suddenly flare to life in his chest. Reflexively he sucked in another tense lungful of air and gasped again as that made the pain worsen and lance up the left side of his neck.

 

Slowly, oh so slowly, he tried to shift his position only to gasp in pain again. Panting shallowly to keep that stabbing sensation from slicing through him again, he stared up at the ceiling while he tried to identify the source of pain. It was radiating from his shoulder along the collar bone and halfway down his back along the spine. What did he do now? He gingerly tried to move his arm, but the sore muscles around his shoulder socket and down his bicep protested sharply. Clumsily, he dragged his arm upwards and rested it on the pillow to remove some of the weight from his shoulder. He couldn't even lift his head. “Aah…ow…”

 

He pushed the comforter off with his good arm and had to use the same arm to lift his head up off the pillow just so he could look himself over. Everything seemed to be in the right place. He was wearing a pair of shorts and a plain black t-shirt that he'd somehow changed into once he'd fumbled his way home from Tom and Kris' apartment. It just…oh gosh…it just hurt like hell. He tried to lay still until the pain subsided, but every time he began to relax something would set it off again. Either he would breathe too deeply or he'd try to shift just a little because he wasn't comfortable anymore. “…hahh…damn it…”

 

With a groan, he forced his pained frame to roll and pushed himself up onto his knees with his good arm. Just the gravity pulling down on him was enough to make him moan. Slowly, he tried to stretch cramped, screaming muscles, but they only screamed louder for being bothered. He whined and thumped back down on the bed, rolling onto his back again, his head lolling off the edge of the mattress painfully. Oddly, even with the nasty strain pulling on his shoulder, it actually felt a little better this way. He hooked his good arm behind his head and lifted slightly, just to take the weight off his neck. Gee…he was comfortable now… He glared at the ceiling. He was not going to be able to stay like this, but it was helping some. Carefully, using his good arm, he tilted his neck a bit, stretching slowly, seeing how much range of motion he could get before his spine protested.

 

He could still move, but it hurt when all the muscles and bones were forced to work in tandem. Great. He groaned unhappily. Something must have slipped out of where it was supposed to be. He hadn't been doing anything! Nothing that should have caused this…at least he didn't think so… A vague memory surfaced as he wracked his fuzzy mind and he remembered himself standing on the edge of a pier overlooking the starlit bay. Perhaps standing was a bit too loose of a term because he really hadn't had any balance to speak of. Not that anyone else in the group had been much better off where sobriety was concerned. He remembered being jostled while the other guys were horsing around and he looked over to see Tom tip backwards as he was knocked from his precarious perch on top of the railing. Then everything blurred and suddenly he'd been half bent over the rail himself, holding onto Tom's wrist with his injured arm.

 

Okay. That probably explained the pain he was in now. He hadn't felt any strain at the time…but he hadn't been able to pull Tom back up on his own either. He should have been able to lift the skinny Goth right up without any problems, but he couldn't and he'd nearly been pulled over with the other man as well. Finally Kris and some of the other guys in the group had grabbed him and pulled him back up and scrambled to get a hold of Tom too. They had all been pretty wasted and it had been really very funny at the time... He definitely hadn't felt any strain then. It wasn't very funny now. Now it was agonizing.

 

Shit, how many fights had he been in…and lost…and gotten pummeled by…and still managed to get away from without any really terrible injuries?! But this one thing, this one stupid injury by a fucking human's weapon was constantly tearing him down time after time. What the hell was this?! Was it his punishment? Was he being punished for failing so miserably? Was that it?

 

He sobbed helplessly and brought up his wounded arm to help hold his head while trying to stretch the muscles at the same time. After a few minutes, his frame began to feel better and he just concentrated on breathing, calming his mind, forcing the tension out of his body so that the muscles could loosen and allow things to settle back into place where they should be. When he could breathe without pain, he sighed in relief. Soon he was only feeling twinges. It was so much better and he was growing tired. Pushing up off the edge, he sat up and gasped as the pain flooded right back into him again. It wasn't better at all, the position had merely taken some of the strain away. Now that he was upright, it hurt all over again. He whined and held still, trying to will his shoulder and neck into peacefulness. He wanted to go back to sleep. Maybe if he could just go back to sleep this would go away and it would be all better by the time he woke up. That sounded like a wonderful plan.

 

Gingerly, he laid down again, gasping and panting quietly as he tried to ease into a position that wasn't horribly excruciating. He even managed to get the blanket back on and huddled there, tossing the pillow away because his neck felt better without the extra cushion and then pulling the pillow back and wedging it under his back so that his shoulder and arm were elevated some. There…he found just the right angle and let his eyes fall closed again, hoping that the blessed black void that was sleep would come quickly.

 

 

~

~

 

Groaning like an old man riddled with arthritic joints, Gohan crawled out of bed, arm tucked close against his chest and neck held as straight as possible. He shuffled into his bathroom and sank onto the toilet lid and just rested for a moment. He was in so much pain that he didn't want to move, but he couldn't bear the thought of sitting still and just enduring it either. Finally, as if the simple action cost all of his precious energy, he reached out with his good arm and slowly spun the handle for the shower faucet to Hot. Then he leaned back and waited for the steam to come. Getting the t-shirt off was one of the most difficult things he could remember ever doing in his life. How in the world did he ever get it on in the first place? He didn't have the slightest clue. If he didn't think that he would regret it, he might have tried to tear the thin shirt off, but he was sure it wouldn't be worth the effort exerted and the action would probably end up being horrendously unpleasant. Plus, at the moment, he wasn't sure if he even had the ability, he felt too weak and shaky.

 

By the time he wrestled his way out of his clothing, the room was thick with smoky vapor and he stepped into the shower, easing under the boiling spray with an uncomfortable hiss. The pitter pat of water on his body hurt just as much as the gravity did, but the heat was what he wanted. The heat was wonderful. It made his muscles feel like they were melting beneath his flushed, reddened skin. That was what he needed. For a moment he wished that he had a tub along with his shower so that he could sink into it and soak the heat in. Along with that thought came a whisper of the memory of Gary laying in ten inches of frigid water, but Gohan was in so much pain that the image sparked no emotion and he brushed it away like so much silt on his skin. He really couldn't be bothered to obsess about that now. It wasn't like Gary felt anything anymore. Gary wasn't in pain anymore. Gary was blissfully unaware of all this shit. Gary didn't have to deal with the ongoing farce that was existence. Gary had it easy. Gohan wanted a fucking tub so he could drown his fucking body until it shut the fuck up and left him alone. Tilting the shower head, he pressed his chest to the warm wall, his cheek resting on the smooth tiles, and just let the spray wash down his neck and shoulder and back until the hot water began to turn cool.

 

Shivering in the misty room, he shut off the water and stood in front of the sink, resting his back against the porcelain bowl. The mirror above the sink was still a jagged, shattered blank, but a second mirror still hung unblemished on the opposite wall. At long last, he slid his right hand over the glass, wiping wet smears through the foggy frost until a distorted reflection stared back. He frowned and leaned in closer to inspect his own pale face, made paler by the ashen circles beneath his dark eyes and the black hair stretching limp and wet down his cheeks in the front and creeping down toward his shoulders at the back. He turned the angle of his face and winced, moving more slowly as his neck muscles protested. Did his cheeks look kind of hollow? He imagined that there was more of a shadow along the bones than he remembered there being before. His gaze slid lower and he wiped off more of the smoky mirror. He hadn't really examined himself…not really. Not since he'd first torn his cast off. He had made a point of avoiding such personal scrutiny. He hadn't wanted to face it, but now his eyes slid curiously over his own flesh as if he were seeing himself for the first time.

 

The map of scars stood out in bright red, angry relief against his pale skin, thick and rough where the sutures and stitches had pinched his flesh back together. It was an ugly testament to his personal lacking. It was a designation of cowardice tattooed onto his body for all the world to see and understand. He had been marked and he knew he deserved every single inch of it. It was fitting.

 

He remembered Kris' scars, flowing like melted wax along his torso and sweeping up his spine. Did Kris deserve his scars? Did they fit him? He'd said…what had he said? He said they were just a part of him now. He owned them. They were no big deal. Old news. Did that mean that…Gohan could own his own scar? Did he even dare think such a thing? Did he want to? Could he come to terms with it just…just being a part of him? Just a part of him like his face or his hair or his ki…or his failure? That it shared in making up who and what he was? If so…what did it make him? What did he gain from it? What could he possibly have gained other than sorrow and pain and agony and guilt? Guilt for everything that he was supposed to stand for and was supposed to be made up of and was so very lacking in… Everything that this scar stood for was a complete contradiction of everything he had ever known as he grew up. He should hate it. In a way, he did. But also, in a very unimaginable, confusing way, he didn't. In some twisted and uncertain, distorted way he was grateful for it.

 

Reaching up with his right hand, he stroked his fingers over the scars and flesh that covered the false bone. Somehow, he could feel the difference even through his skin. He imagined he could feel what a ruse it was. How it was smoother or rougher than it should be. How the fake bone stood out slightly more prominently than the original had. How it felt cold even though his skin was still steaming from the shower. He traced his fingers over the hollows just above the collar bones, noting how they seemed to sink in further than they ever did before. His chest wasn't as chiseled as it used to be, neither were his shoulders. And now that he was looking at it, his injured shoulder had lost even more muscle bulk than the rest of his body. He could see the difference even if no one else might notice. No wonder he hadn't been able to lift Tom. He slowly raised his left arm and flexed. The muscles shivered and stuttered and strained and he let them loosen quickly before the tugging on his neck turned painful. Was he really that weak now that he couldn't even flex his arm anymore? How pathetic.

 

He didn't bother trying to dry himself, it would only strain his back. He padded on carefully steady feet out to the living room, stepping over hastily castoff clothing in search of his jacket. Finally he found it strewn on the television and fished out his bottle of pills, cracking it open and dryly swallowing two white tablets. A blinking red light on the answering machine drew his attention and he grimaced. At some time or other he must have shut off the sound to the message alert. With no little amount of apprehension he pressed the play button. Out poured the mechanical voice of a hospital clerk saying that he had missed a follow up appointment and asking if he would like to schedule getting re-cast. He blinked and stared at the machine dumbly, his stomach knotting as if he were a little child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Re-cast? How could they know that he'd gotten rid of his cast? Unless someone told them. Bulma would have, he was sure she would. But, as sure as he was that she would, the idea still seemed strange. It took a moment for him to realize that of course they didn't know. …Re-cast! They just wanted to change his old cast for a new one! How stupid of him to think anything else. He laughed at himself in sudden relief and erased the message along with the multitude of other messages he'd been ignoring for the past week.

 

In the bedroom, he grabbed one of his last button ups and somehow managed to get it on while only using one hand. He even got the buttons straight despite how reticent he was to move his weak arm, hugging it close to his chest like a fragile infant. His pants were more difficult, but he pulled the jeans on with minor grumbles and groans, using his tail to aid in the task. Thank goodness for extra appendages. He laughed and slumped onto his bed as he cast around for his shoes. The hardest part turned out to be tying his shoelaces. Bending down caused gravity to yank mercilessly on his muscles and once he got his shoes secured, he had to lean back and relax as much as possible just to be able to take a full breath again. He couldn't go on this way, he couldn't stand it. He had never felt anything like this pain before. It was an ache that was seated deep inside him and just lingered and throbbed and stabbed with a life all its own. He rubbed his shoulder roughly and growled at the new pain his fingers caused as they dug in impatiently. He had to do something. Anything to dull this and make it go away.

 

Pulling his jacket on, he slid his weak hand into the left pocket and let it rest, using his jacket like a make-shift sling. It weighed down on his shoulder and neck, but as long as he countered the weight with his right arm and let the material sit just right on his good shoulder, it was manageable. He stopped in front of his door and stared at it blankly for a long few minutes. What was he going to do? He wanted…well…he wanted…

 

He shuffled his feet guiltily and grimaced at himself. He wanted a really strong drink…and he wanted to just…and he felt so bad about that. Why should he feel so bad? There wasn't anything wrong with a little drinking and there wasn't anything wrong with wanting to numb this pain and if everyone else could do it then why shouldn't he be allowed to do it even if he was not around them? There wasn't any reason he shouldn't, he asserted. So he would and that was that! It wasn't going to hurt anyone if he got something to drink. He grabbed his sunglasses from the table by the door and stepped out of his apartment and headed off.

 

~

~

 

Some time later Gohan found himself in the cold, noisy atmosphere of the supermarket staring uncertainly at isles and isles of glass bottles. He was hopelessly lost among the myriad of labels and names. He didn't know what half of these liquids were, much less where to even start looking. There were two isles of…wine? Over half the words were in strange, expensive sounding languages so he moved to the next row which contained cases of smallish bottles whose contents came in fruity flavors. These looked sort of interesting, but to be honest, he was really looking for quantity…not to experiment. The beer he could understand, though there were more variants than he could possibly wrap his head around and he didn't know the difference between any of them. The next row held more bottles filled with brown or clear liquids. Curiously, he scanned the labels and actually recognized some of the names. Whiskey…Jack Daniels…Black Velvet…Rum…Vodka…

 

He stopped at the last group of clear bottles and stared at the different colored labels. Flavored Vodka? He distinctly remembered that flavored Vodka was really good, but he couldn't remember what flavor he had tried. Glancing around self-consciously, he pondered the bottles again, a warm blush rising on his cheeks. Was he really thinking of buying alcohol? The idea made him so uncomfortable, as if people walking buy were looking at him. As if they knew that he…that he…that he what? That he was going to drink it? That he liked it? Was there something wrong with that? It wasn't like he was underage. The store sold alcohol. People bought alcohol all the time all day long, so why should he feel guilty or embarrassed for buying a bottle of Vodka?? He shouldn't! There wasn't any good reason he should feel like this. This was all his family's fault. They were the ones that put these fool notions into his head that normal, everyday, average things could be bad. He grumbled and picked up a bottle of strawberry flavored Vodka. There was nothing wrong with him buying this. He was going to buy it and he was going to enjoy it and there wasn't anything anybody could do to stop him.

 

That's what he ought to talk to that shrink about. He could tell him about all the weird, conservative crap that his mom had pummeled into him since he was little. He certainly couldn't tell some psychotherapist about any of the other pummeling he'd gotten throughout his life. He growled in frustration. What the hell could he possibly tell a doctor who was trained in treating psychos anyway? That he was a half alien super hero that was really bad at his job? Anything he told the guy would just get him institutionalized. What was Bulma thinking? He rubbed the cool bottle against his temple and closed his eyes tiredly. He didn't want to think about it. He just wanted to get home again. With a last hesitant look at the shelves, he picked up another bottle, this one was green apple flavored, and headed for the checkout. Head down and eyes on the floor, he couldn't bring himself to make eye contact with anyone. He just wanted out of there and away from all those eyes that he was sure were following his stiff, guilty looking back.

 

~

~

 

The weekend passed in a slow blur as Gohan lounged in the stuffy darkness of his apartment. He didn't open any windows or answer the phone or even consider stepping outside. If there had been any knocks at the door, he certainly wasn't going to answer. He'd learned his lesson on that matter. He completely withdrew deep into his little cave to hibernate away the days just like he had when he had first come home from the hospital. He didn't move, he didn't eat, he just drowned himself in sweet Vodka and medication while he tried to forget that any of this existed. He just wanted the pain to fade, but it was his constant company hour by hour. He could even feel it in his sleep and as he wandered the gray landscape of his dreams he would constantly rub at his shoulder or cradle his arm close.

 

He shuffled through an uncomfortable, gray, melancholy landscape of dreams filled with strange people and places where he watched them all hang out with one another and have such a calm camaraderie and he was so very envious. He wanted to join them. He wanted to know that feeling of belonging. He wanted to be one of them. But he was stuck on the outskirts, forever just a specter sentenced to watch and yearn. In some dreams Lian would come up to him and try to draw him in with that beautiful smile of hers, but he was always too slow and so she would go off without him to join the rest. She fit in perfectly with them. He couldn't understand even in his dreams why she cared about him at all.

 

He even dreamed of Kris. Different dreams from the others, filled with nervous uncertainty and embarrassment. Awkward dreams that more often than not he would wake up from and lay in the dark, dizzy and thick tongued, with a sharp pang of disappointment. Whether it was himself or Kris that was disappointed depended on the dream. And then there were dark hot dreams busy with shaky fumbling, heavy breath, and husky murmurs. He didn't know what to think when he woke from those. Part of him was mortified at the things his mind was making up. Part of him wanted to go back to sleep and delve as deep into the dream as he could, but he never managed to make it to a satisfying end in those dreams. Though…he honestly wasn't sure what a satisfying end would be.

 

~

~

 

Monday finally crept its way through his drapes and with it came Lian to rouse him for work. Pulling her into a clumsy hug, he pressed his nose into her fresh shirt that smelled of detergent and soap and leather and smoke from that jacket she always wore. With a depressed sigh, he apologized for leaving her all alone on Friday. She just smiled and hugged him back, running her fingers through his messy hair, and told him that she understood that he needed some time to himself. It was okay.

 

He hugged her tighter. “I really…I…” He stuttered, his cheeks flushing as he clumsily tried to express himself and failed miserably, just like with so many other things. But he wanted her to know, even if she laughed, even if he just embarrassed himself. It was important that he got this out. “…I love you, Lian. You know that? You're just…you're perfect. I hope that you know you're perfect.”

 

She did laugh at him, but it was a good kind of laugh and she continued petting his hair without any of the awkwardness he felt. “It's nice to be loved by an angel.” She replied happily and her voice softened. “It'll all work out, Angel. You'll see.”

 

He didn't have a response for that. He didn't believe it. Not one bit. But it was nice to hear her say it. Now that she was here, it meant that life had to resume once more. He had to move again. Moving made his shoulder numb and his arm ache and his heart turn to lead, but he would do it for her. When he looked up, her smile changed and she touched his cheek as she looked into his eyes.

 

“What?”

 

She grinned. “It looks good on you. I can touch it up if you like.”

 

He blinked at her, completely confused and sure that it wasn't just because of the Vodka. “Huh?”

 

She giggled, sliding her thumb alongside one of his eyes. “Your eyes. It's mostly worn away, but it looks nice. You want me to touch it up?”

 

His eyes…his eyeliner? It was still there? He'd forgotten all about it. Cheeks flushing brightly, he shook his head and looked down with a shyly embarrassed smile. “Uh…no…I should…I should go wash it off…I forgot about it…It wasn't really my idea…”

 

She just continued to grin, but her expression took on a coy, knowing aspect. “Alright, but it still looks nice.”

 

~

~

 

Time seemed to stutter. Sometimes it stopped altogether and sometimes it leapt past and was gone without any warning. He couldn't understand how it happened, but suddenly it was Wednesday.

 

Gohan sat in his cubicle, his arm propped up on the desk. His pinky and middle finger had gone numb two hours ago, but he'd found that there wasn't much he could do about that. The numbness would come and go whenever it pleased and would just get worse if he messed with his back. Of course, it was hard not to mess with it. He found himself constantly rubbing and worrying his shoulder, rolling it, flexing the muscles in his back as he tried to stretch them and only ended up making them tighter. It made him have to lean over in his chair to keep the weight off his back, which made his lower back ache some, but it was better than enduring the sharp pain in his shoulder. Maybe he should go back to the doctor…though that meant he'd have to admit to them that he had taken the cast off and then he would have to explain how he had healed so quickly and he just…didn't want to deal with that. He was sure there was some sort of physical therapy that he probably was supposed to do…not that he really wanted to do anything like that either…but it hurt. He was so tired of the constant hurt. He couldn't think past it.

 

Lian peeked into his little cubicle. “Hey, Angel. You okay?”

 

Gohan just huffed and looked up at her groggily. “I guess. Just…achy. It's pissing me off.”

 

She nodded understandingly. She'd been witness to his discomfort for long enough now that she didn't need any explanation. “Yeah, I bet. So…” She looked at him questioningly for a second before continuing. “You busy tonight?”

 

Gohan just sat there for a minute, a grimace surfacing on his lips. Was he busy? He knew what she meant. He had an appointment in half an hour. That was another reason for his bad temper. He'd been thinking about it all day and the more he thought about it, the more certain he was that it was impossible to do what Bulma wanted. He couldn't. There wasn't anything he could talk to this shrink about. There wasn't anything he wanted to talk to him about. But what did that matter? The answer was it didn't. It didn't matter. Nothing really mattered. It didn't matter what he wanted. It didn't matter what he told the shrink. It just…didn't matter, he thought helplessly. The statement was a bitterly bland assertion. So…was he busy tonight?

 

He glanced up at Lian for a long moment and then leaned back in his chair. “You think… Think you could make me one of those…chocolate milk…drink things…? You know the thing I'm talking about? I dunno what it was, but it was great.”

 

She grinned and shrugged, blond curls bouncing. “Yeah, I remember. Sure, I can. It'll be my treat.”

 

Gohan hesitated for a long minute and then nodded, a slow half smile blooming on his lips. “Alright, then. That would be great.” He climbed out of his chair with an achy groan, not bothering to shut off the computer. It didn't matter. He decided he didn't have to deal with it. Any of it. “I'm not busy. Let's go.”

 

~

~

 

Five thirty came and went, but not without Gohan noticing. He found himself looking for the time constantly even while trying to ignore its passage. Five thirty-five…five forty…five forty-three… He'd definitely missed his appointment. Six o'clock came and he wondered if this was the sort of doctor that would call you to let you know you forgot to show up. Ten after six, if he was that sort of doctor, then Bulma would know by now that Gohan had skipped out on her.

 

“Hey.” At six twenty-five, Lian touched his good shoulder, bringing his gaze away from the clock.

 

He glanced up abruptly and blinked her, his bleak mood written clearly on his limp features. He shrugged under her concerned expression. “It's not important. Don't worry about it.”

 

She tilted her head, blond locks swinging. She pursed her lips as she regarded him for a moment. “Will you play cards with us this time?”

 

Gohan hesitated and then nodded. “Yeah, sure. Why not?”
Why not, indeed. He had the whole night. He dreaded going home afterwards. Of course, Bulma would hunt him down anywhere if she really wanted to, so it didn't matter. But nothing mattered anyway…and he should just enjoy himself and relax and maybe his shoulder would stop hurting too. That crawling feeling of numbness in his back had turned to sharp aching pains lancing down his arm. He just wanted it to stop. Through the game, holding the cards made it even more obvious that his twitching hand just wouldn't hold still so he settled it limp in his lap, holding the cards with his right hand and only using his sore arm when he really needed to. It was becoming a habit, every where he went and everything he did, his sore arm would settle somewhere out of the way where it would be bothered as little as possible.

 

Partway through the night he was holding a particularly good hand of cards when hands suddenly descended over his eyes, blinding him. “Guess who it is!”

 

It didn't take much thought to place the brightly energetic voice or the teasing tone even without being able to see the raccoon mask. “Heh…hey, Tom… You mind? I'm winning for once.”

 

Tom laughed and slung his arm roughly around Gohan's neck, causing a slight twinge as he greeted everyone else around the table cheerfully. “Hey, everyone! You see this guy?” He pointed at Gohan with his other hand and hugged his neck. “This guy here is my guardian angel! Saved my life. Plucked me damn well right outa the sky.”

 

Beer was strong on Tom's breath, but it didn't bother Gohan at all. He wasn't quite sober himself. Far from it. “…not…out of the sky…” He hedged, looking embarrassed under everyone's gaze and shifting uncomfortably, trying to pry Tom's grip loose with his good arm.

 

Tom just grinned. “Tsk. Pretty close. This guy! Best guy I ever knew! My bro, man! You're my bro! Anything you ever need…okay? Anything!” He hugged Gohan again and then waved, stumbling from the room, pausing just long enough to shout back. “Anything! Got that? Anytime!”

 

Gohan glanced sheepishly around the table at the bright, amused grins as the barely coherent Goth wandered off again. Lian had a wide smile on her lips and was nodding in understanding. “Ah. I see now. So that's what happened.” The card game resumed again. “The arm feeling any better yet?”

 

“It's alright.” Gohan just shrugged, only moving his right shoulder, and turned his attention back to his cards. Pretending as if Tom had never appeared and proclaimed him a hero. He wasn't. He did what anyone else would have done. No more than that. He wasn't capable of more than that. That's all anyone should ever ask for.

 

~

~

 

It wasn't until the following Friday that Gohan heard from the blue haired CEO. Bulma called him at work to berate him for missing the meeting and demanded an explanation. Gohan, still in pain and numb from achy, sleepless nights, just rested his cheek on his arm on the desk. His shoulder was protesting especially strongly today and he just couldn't pull his mind off the pain to give her the attention that she thought she was due.

 

“I'm sorry, Bulma. I forgot about it.” He replied flatly. “I don't know what you expected me to be able to tell a shrink anyway. It's not like I could just come out and tell him I'm a crime fighter or anything. It's really not worth…”

 

Bulma cut him off abruptly. “Gohan, this guy is a professional and he's not a shrink, he's a therapist. I already prepped him on the fact that you're not his average patient and that everything you told him would be 100% backed up by me. You don't have to worry about any of that. He's bound by doctor/patient confidentiality anyway so he wouldn't tell a soul anything you said to him. Now…I talked to him again and he says he has time to see you today. Today, Gohan. You can't forget that, can you? Five thirty again, don't be late.”

 

Gohan stuck his tongue out at the phone, making a childish face at it, then put it back to his ear and sighed. “Yeah, sure. I won't forget again. I promise.” He didn't wait for her to reply before hanging up the phone. “Yeah, sure.” He said to himself and rolled his eyes. He had no intention of going to this appointment either and, though he still felt guilty, it didn't feel at all as bad as it had been the first time.

 

This time he was the one to go and get Lian from her desk. “Ready?”

 

She looked up from her computer screen in surprise and then glanced at the clock. “Already? It's only four forty-one.”

 

Gohan gave a lopsided shrug and made a face. “Nobody will notice. Half the office always leaves early anyway. Come on, it's Friday. Why not?”

 

Lian nodded sagely as if he'd said something inspiringly philosophical. “You're absolutely right, Angel. Let's start the weekend early.” She quickly put her desk right for the night and got up, curling her arm around Gohan's waist as they walked out of the office. Comfortably he slung his right arm over her shoulders, his left resting limp in his pocket as usual.
“Hey, are you up for something new tonight?”

 

“Hmm?” He glanced down at her blurrily. “Sure, I guess.”

 

Lian smiled. “Great. There's a party over on Cedar. Derek really wants to go. His brother is in that fraternity and we're friends with the band that's playing too.”

 

Gohan faltered for a second. “A party?”

 

Lian gave his waist a gentle squeeze. “Yeah. We never stay long at these things. We just show up to see the guys play and hang out for a bit.” She laughed softly. “And to make the preps all a little uncomfortable.”

 

Gohan thought for a moment and then grunted in assent. “Yeah, sure…but don't mind me if I'm a little stiff…I'm never good at these things…”

 

That didn't faze Lian an ounce. “Naw, there's nothing to these things and they usually have expensive beer. It'll be fine.”

 

It was beginning to get dark when Gohan, Lian, and Derek walked up the steps of the fraternity house, only three blocks over from Hope. Festivities were already in full swing and the beat of the rock band was loud enough to deafen the entire block. It was just like all the other parties he remembered Videl dragging him to…but then again…he'd never drank at any of those. He was willing to try one more, just to see if it might make a difference. The first thing they did was make a stop at the bar and Gohan washed down his evening dose of meds along with a swallow of extra dry stout.

 

Interestingly enough, after a little while Gohan was just fine. He was better than fine. He was buzzing nicely, sprawled on a random couch listening to Lian talk animatedly with Derek's older brother. He seemed like a nice happy guy, just as laid back as Derek, but with a hyper flair rather than Derek's slow, relaxed manner. It was actually Derek who came up and announced he'd “had enough of these rich-ass-punks” and said he was going to head out. Derek's brother just laughed and Lian got up, tugging lightly on Gohan's good arm and coaxing him onto his feet.

 

“Mmm…coming…I'm coming…” Gohan wavered on his feet for a second, blood flow seeming to struggle with the new taller position. Derek tugged his strong arm over his shoulders and linked Lian linked arms on Derek's opposite side and they all sort of stumbled out that way, laughing and giggling when they finally made it out to the lawn and flopped on the grass.

 

There was a soft snick sound and Gohan glanced over at where Derek was lighting one of his homemade cigarettes that smelled so familiar. He now knew what it was thanks to Kris. Derek took a deep drag and saw him looking and offered the twisted stick with a lopsided smile. Gohan only hesitated a second before smiling back and taking it. He only took a light breath of the stuff, not wanting to embarrass himself by hacking up a lung in front of his friends. It tasted different. Or was it just the texture of the smoke? Whatever it was, it sure added a nice rush to his already buzzed and blurred brain. He wasn't sure. Lian relieved him of it and took a long heavy drag herself before handing it back to Derek with a grinning sigh, turning and laying down in the grass, head pillowed against Gohan's side. “See? Told you it wouldn't be a bad night, angel.”

 

Derek grinned, blowing smoke rings into the still air, turning mimicking Lian's position on Gohan's left side. “Yeah. We may come to their parties, but we're still us. We bring our own atmosphere with us. They can choke on theirs all they want.” It might have been a slightly bitter sounding motto, but who cared? Derek stated it as if it were merely a fact, and it probably was exactly that. This was the first time Gohan had come to one of these places and not felt the least bit tense or self-conscious.

 

Gohan crossed his legs and absently ran fingers through the blond locks curling over his right thigh while he rested his weak arm on Derek's bony chest. He couldn't help but smile, surrounded by the warmth of the other two pressed in on him. Like a litter of puppies sprawled exhaustedly on top of one another in a warm huddle. He didn't know what brought that image to mind, but it was a thoughtlessly comfortable picture that he was perfectly content with. More than content. “Heh, yeah. It's all good.” He borrowed Lian's words and smiled tiredly. They fit. They fit and it felt pretty damn good just now.

 

A shadow fell across their little group, blocking the light of the street lamp a few yards away. They all squinted up at the backlit shape standing on the grass with them. Derek put up an arm to shade his eyes. “Yeah?”

 

Gohan barely stifled a groan when the shape snapped his name. “Gohan! What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at counseling tonight?”

 

Oh gods, not now… Gohan looked away, a pained expression crossing his features. With a sigh, he spoke tiredly, refusing to answer the invasive question. Instead, he posed one of his own. “What do you want, Videl?”

 

The woman crossed her arms, hip cocked like a gun, her angry, self-important expression hidden by the dark. “I heard Erasa and Sharpner saw you hanging out and here I find you with a girl in your lap! So what's going on, Gohan?” She demanded sharply. “You say you need time alone and here you are out carousing with a couple tweakers at a damn frat party?!”

 

Gohan glared, but before he could reply Derek's shocked voice echoed over the lawn. “Dude…is Videl Hercule your girlfriend??” He actually sounded impressed. Gohan groaned.

 

Videl glared at Derek and pointed at the cigarette in his hand. “That's right! And you keep your shit away from him. He doesn't need that crap in his life.” Then she glared at Lian who hadn't moved, but was looking up with a wide eyed, incredulous expression at Videl. “And I'd appreciate it if you got out of my boyfriend's lap, thanks so much!”

 

Even though Derek and Lian had both staked out an amount of Gohan's lap, it seemed that Videl was only concerned with the half that was sporting female anatomy. Gohan rested his good hand on Lian's shoulder protectively. “I think you should go now, Videl.”

 

Videl's angry gaze went to him again. “Enough is enough, Gohan. It's time you came home and we talked this all out. I'm tired of you dancing around everything and ignoring me and…whatever this is!”

 

Gohan rolled his eyes helplessly and made a disgusted sound. “There's nothing to talk about, Videl.” He looked over at Derek as if seeking some help, but the teen was still in awe over Videl's patronage so he nudged Lian and she sat up and climbed to her feet with him. She hadn't said a word to Videl and had on an air of intensely indifferent nonchalance toward the antagonistic woman. Derek quickly rolled to his feet now that he had lost his headrest. Gohan wavered, light-headed as he tried to get his balance.

 

“………Gohan……are you drunk???” She sounded so shocked that he almost laughed.

 

Instead, he just cast her a sarcastic look and hooked his arm over Lian's shoulders, turning his back on the woman. “Come on, can we get out of here?”

 

“Don't you walk away from me! You were supposed to go to counseling! And you went to a party to get drunk with some skanky blond instead! Shit, Gohan! You've got problems. You really do need help. Gohan, get back here!” Videl caught hold of his scarred shoulder and spun him painfully around to face her.

 

Gohan hissed in pain at the contact and jerked back, almost falling over Lian. He was really surprised when little Derek stepped in between and pushed Videl back with an indignant yell. “Hey! Back off! What the hell is your problem?!”

 

“You back off, weirdo. Gohan, you're coming with me right now!” Videl snapped back.

 

Gohan backed up a few steps before finally standing his ground. “I already told you, Videl. I'm done with you! Don't you get it? Just leave me alone. There's nothing to talk about.” That voice that had become so very useful lately piped up again, whispering its little advice in his ear once more. It said that this was the exact reason he didn't want to have to care anymore. Why should he have to care about things like this when obviously no one cared about him or anything he wanted? Why did he have to put up with things like this when anyone else could get away with putting an end to it and walking away? Well he shouldn't have to! He didn't have to! He wasn't going to!

 

Videl was shocked once more and stopped short. “What do you mean you're done with me?! Who the hell do you think you are?!”

 

He drew up, as well as he was able. He was going to fucking stand his ground this time! There wasn't any reason he should have to run away. He had a right to say no, damn it! “I mean I'm done! I don't want you, Videl. No more shit! No more! Just stay away from me and my friends, you're not welcome.”

 

He could hear Videl fuming even if he couldn't see her face with the light behind her. “You mean leave you alone to play with your tweaker friends? Fine, then! We're through, Gohan! You're a mess and I can't deal with you! Why the hell would I want to date an emotionless zombie anyway?!”

 

Fuck…that whole statement was so laughably infuriating! An emotionless zombie?? Kami, if only that was the case! If only!! So what? As long as it was his own idea it wasn't fucking valid? But if she said so…! He scoffed, which was quite a feat since he really didn't have much practice with this whole scoffing thing. “Oh sure! As long as it's your idea! Tsk!”

 

He saw her profile bristle in the artificial light, but his reflexes were too slow to do anything but dumbly watch as she slung the heavy book bag off her shoulder, reached into it, and angrily lobbed a thick shadow at him. His vision exploded in a kaleidoscope of colors and then he was laying face down on the grass, unable to breathe and completely at a loss as to what happened. At his side, he could hear Derek cursing and Lian was tugging him upright again and asking if he was okay. In the background was Videl's scoffing voice. She was much better at scoffing than he was.

 

“Tsk, he's fine!”

 

Gohan finally managed to sit up dizzily and looked uncomprehendingly at his bloody hand. …what? Derek was suddenly in his face, looking at him anxiously. “Man…” Then the anger was back in Derek's expression and he picked up the thick college textbook and chucked it back at Videl. “You fucking bitch! Your dad's a hero, but you're just a fucking bitch! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

 

She snatched the book out of the air with barely an effort, ignoring Derek as she stared in surprise at Gohan's darkly glistening face. “……what? …Gohan……you're bleeding…” It had been a very long time since he'd heard Videl sound so uncertain.

 

Abruptly the gentle hands that were stroking his bloody face disappeared and Lian's curls flashed in the streetlight as she leapt up and stomped right up to Videl. “Of course he's bleeding, you mother fucking cunt! You broke his nose with your damn homework!” She shrieked as she shoved the surprised martial artist backwards.

 

Videl knocked Lian's hands away and glared. “No I didn't! That's impossible!” But she looked back at the blood still pouring down Gohan's stunned face. “Let me see…”

 

She started to take a step closer and Lian shoved her again. “Hell no! Yeah! I should give him to you because you take such good care of your things, huh? Get the fuck out of here!”

 

Gohan stared at the two women. He'd never heard Lian like this before. She'd always was so bubbly and pleasant. He certainly could never imagine any of those cuss words coming from her lips so easily. Scarily angry blonds aside, though, the fact that the two women looked like they were about to go to blows finally made it to the forefront of his mind and he staggered onto his feet to stop it. He was suddenly very afraid that Videl might do something horrible to Lian and there wasn't a prayer in heaven that Lian could stand up to her.

 

Closing the distance, he threw his arms around the blond and pulled her back, wincing as she struggled to get out of his grip and back at Videl, her squirming straining his arm sharply. “Just leave it be… Please! Come on…we can just go now… Let's go…” He begged as he tried to keep hold of her. Even with the throbbing strain on his shoulder and the dizzying sharp pains in his face, his first and foremost thought was that he couldn't bear it if anything happened to the little blond.

 

Finally she stilled and turned around in his arms and hugged him fiercely. Gohan glared over her shoulder at Videl who couldn't seem to keep a single emotion on her face. Finally the dark haired woman spun on her heel and stalked off angrily. “Shit…whatever…”

 

Derek set a hand on Gohan's arm and one on Lian's back. The girl was shaking and she looked up at Gohan with angry tears in her eyes. The blond closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she let it out again it was as if every ounce of tension and rage just vanished along with that one breath and everything was fine again. As if it never happened. when she looked up at him again, it was with sober concern etched on her worried face. “Let's get you to the hospital, huh Angel?”

 

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