(Hellloooo! OuO -v- I'm quite addicted to my little couple here, Desmond and Donna, including their kids, Louis and Donna. Sooo, now this is going to be a trilogy l'D This is adding more on the actual DBZ universe, so that's good! XD Hope you like!)
"No, no, no!"
Crack.
I didn't want to look at what had happened. Whatever it was, it was probably gruesome. I chewed my bottom lip, peeking through my fingers to see if he was okay.
His arm was twisted the wrong direction.
I already saw tears pooling in his eyes.
Holding back the urge to sigh, I picked him up, being careful of his arm. The snow hadn't helped the impact, that's for sure. He sniffled.
"I'm sorry!" It was Donna. Tears were in her eyes, looking up at Louis, the one on my shoulder.
"Mleh!" Louis stuck his tongue out at her. I sighed.
Kids.
Definitely not what I had anticipated almost ten years ago.
I'm sure Donna didn't either.
Then again, she'd be taking Louis to the hospital, concern evident on her face.
The thought lightened my mood.
"C'mon, let's get you to the hospital," I say, concerned, but if Louis was playing around with Donna to stick his tongue out at her, he wasn't in much pain.
That also meant his arm was broken.
Well.
It certainly looked like it.
In the car, Donna and Louis sat in the back while I drove. I already told Lucas where we were going and what had happened, but he decided to stay behind. Homework or a big project he needed to finish.
"It's almost our birthday," I heard Donna chirp from the back. I nodded, glancing back at her.
"It is."
"We're gonna be ten!" This time it was Louis, speaking in amazement.
I chuckled. "Yeah. You're both getting pretty old. And big."
Louis snapped his eyes to me. "No! We're getting smaller! Right, Donna?"
I saw her nod in the mirror.
She smiled.
It was her mom's smile.
I smiled.
"Who do you want to invite?" I asked.
Donna sat up. "Chrissy! Chrissy! We have to invite senpai!"
"He's older than you," Louis said.
"It doesn't matter! I have a crush on him and he has a crush on me back!" She pouted.
"Guys, guys, I'm not in the mood to hear you guys fight, okay?" I said it gently, but I was a bit agitated. It showed in my voice.
They both nodded, stealing glances at each other and sticking their tongues out at each other at the chance.
I sighed inwardly.
Their birthday.
Her death day.
The thought heavied my mood.
We got to the hospital.
I hated hospitals.
I got out of the car, opening the door for Louis. He hopped just as Donna hopped to the two of us.
We went into the doors.
"You have to be quiet," I say to the two. In the hospital, I was now more concerned about Louis.
Maybe the medicine here did it.
Maybe the thought of Donna did it.
I pushed the thoughts from my mind.
I had already called the doctor on the way here, specifically after the fight in the car. A nurse showed us to the hospital room after we were shown to admissions. Seeing the doctor, I felt a bit better. Louis wasn't going to be in bad hands.
Donna and I waited outside the hospital room. We both decided to let Louis sleep, as the tests on his arm still had to be run, like his x-rays. Donna was in my lap, her legs swinging back and forth. She seemed quieter than normal.
Was she tired?
We could go home.
Well, after the x-ray scans.
I wanted to go home as well.
I hated hospitals.
Donna turned her head to me. "Daddy?"
"Hm?"
"Can I ask you something?" She turned fully, facing me.
"Sure. What?"
She went silent, as if shy to ask the question.
I wondered why.
Was it something bad?
"W...What was Mommy like?"
I didn't have much of a reaction. I already knew she'd ask the question at some time in her life.
I hesitated still.
"I'm sorry, I just don't really know about her. You don't have to answer!" She seemed to be panicking. I smiled. It was forced.
"Donna, calm down. It's okay."
In my head, I didn't want to answer.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm positive."
"C...Can I know, then?" She looked timid. Part of me wanted to tell her I didn't want her to, or just tell her to ask when she was older. The other part said no, that wouldn't work. You'd still be hooked on the other Donna.
The one that died in another wing of the hospital.
I ruffled her short, blonde hair.
"Yes."
She smiled brightly, sitting straight to listen.
What was I supposed to tell her? I was never good with kids to begin with. Even after almost ten years, it was still hard to talk to my own.
They never hated me for it.
Even if I didn't smile that often, they didn't mind.
They knew I was happy.
I smiled.
"Your mother...was a wonderful person. She was a lot like you. She had the same color hair as you, same eyes. She was sweet and kind like you. She painted wonderful things...hills, valleys, lakes...she painted everything she found beautiful in nature." I brushed a strand of Donna's hair behind her ear absent-mindedly. "She was very kind and optimistic. She never asked for anything unless she had to."
Donna smiled. She looked at me expectantly.
What else was there to tell?
I observed the Donna in my lap. Her smile.
"She had a beautiful smile, just like yours." I tapped her on the nose, receiving a soft giggle from her. "It was sweet and gentle. She held everything in that smile. Her fears, her love...but mostly her happiness."
She looked like she had a question, but she didn't say anything. Eventually she did say something, however.
"What happened to her?"
I paused. I felt my chest tighten.
I swallowed hard.
She must have known it was a bad question. "I'm sorry." I pulled a smile, hugging her briefly.
"It's alright." It sounded hollow. "Don't worry about it."
It really wasn't.
I didn't blame her.
I blamed myself. After all these years, I still blamed myself.
I still couldn't get over her departure.
I still couldn't get myself to say the right word.
I still couldn't get myself to explain what happened.
I still couldn't remind myself over her.
I still couldn't forget her smile.
Donna's - the one with me - smile faded. "I'm sorry." She had said it again.
"It's okay." I ruffled her hair again.
"I love you, Daddy."
I kissed her cheek. "And I love you."
Her smile returned.
"Let's go check on Louis, alright?"
"Okay." She smiled.
Her smile.
It hurt to see it.
"How did he do that?"
"Donna was telling him to do it when he was up in the tree."
"That's bloody hilarious!" A laugh. "Kids. They'll do wotever is is other kids want."
"If you say so."
I was on the phone with Augustine. Donna and Louis were outside playing in the snow, though Louis was directed to be careful with his cast.
I was near them, bundled in a large marshmallow jacket. I hated the cold. The scarf I had on didn't help. Nor did the two shirts I had on.
The cold always managed to bite you. The heat did it too, but air conditioning was already on all the time. Sure, you got uncomfortable in the heat, but you could swim. Ice skating is the opposite, but you get hurt more than have fun. The cold makes you cut off fingers and toes, but the heat doesn't.
Why the cold was so annoying, well, there are my reasons.
Donna loved the cold.
Before she left, that is.
The right word was in the back of my head, but I didn't want to think of it.
Died.
It flashed at me.
I held the phone tighter.
"Katy wasn't like that," Augustine mused. "Her daughter is hyper, but seeing her jump off trees you won't see!" He laughed again.
Things went silent.
Her leaving.
Her death.
Her departure.
Her death.
She's gone.
She's deceased.
All these phrases had to be met. She died. She's deceased. She's not so simple as "gone". Those were the wrong four letters. She was "dead". Or, as the hospital liked to say, "DECEASED".
"It's almost been ten years, eh?"
He sounded more quiet.
I didn't respond.
"Have you told the two?"
"Told them what?" I croaked.
"You know wot, mate."
Silence once more. I watched Donna throw a snowball at Louis, her little beanie flying off her head, her rainbow scarf blowing in the wind. Everything she had on was something with rainbows.
Her whole reasoning behind the rainbows was simple. She loved all the colors. That's why her favorite color was either rainbow or white. She didn't like leaving colors out, but rainbow was still the best choice.
"Wot 'appened to her." Augustine was starting to press on me.
"Donna tried to ask me about it earlier."
"Wot did you tell her?"
I paused. "I just didn't answer."
I felt guilty about it. Donna deserved to know what happened. But I couldn't make myself do it.
"Dez-"
"I know, I know, I should have told her." I sighed. My breath formed a cloud in front of me. My throat was burning, despite the cold. All the cold did was make every breath feel like a shard of cold in my lungs.
I would've preferred that than the burn.
"That wasn't wot I was going to say, mate." It was his turn to pause. "You have to come to terms."
My heart felt like it has stopped. The words were coming. The words I'd dreaded for so long.
"You have to get over her, Dez." It hurt with every syllable. "It's been ten years." My breath hitched. "You have to-"
I hung up.
I took slow breaths to try and calm myself.
I didn't feel any tears down my cheeks.
I knew I was shaking, but not because of the cold.
I watched Donna and Louis continue to pelt each other with snow. I put the phone in my pocket. It wasn't so simple to forget her.
I had a broken heart.
It wasn't like you could put super glue on it and will it to forget the cracks.
The wounds were going to scar. The cracks were going to stain. Yet Augustine, who only had to go through a divorce and just had to blame his ex-wife, was telling me to move on.
I couldn't blame anyone for it. No one but myself.
Was this all it was to him? Forget and move on?
I thought he cared.
A snowball hit my chest.
I looked at the two kids. They both had a hand on their mouth, glancing at each other. Donna pointed at Louis, Louis pointing at Donna with his good arm.
I forced a smile. "It's fine," I called. I didn't feel like throwing a snowball back.
God, I was a terrible father.
I couldn't even join the game.
I hoped they weren't uncomfortable around me.
What if they grew up to find me a father that didn't care?
It hurt to think about.
...
I was thinking that often now, wasn't I?
Everything hurts to think about.
Even looking at things hurt.
Whenever Donna smiled at me with her mother's smile.
That hurt.
For the next hour of them playing, I thought over every word Augustine said. Eventually I told them they had to come in.
"Your lips are blue," I explained. I walked ahead of them inside. Donna looked up at me while kicking the snow off her boots.
"Are you crying?"
I blinked. I didn't feel any tears come down my cheeks. I touched my right cheek. A slightly damp streak. It felt frozen on my face. I guess I didn't feel it from the cold. I shook my head.
"No, no...the wind made my eyes watery."
Donna took that answer.
I hated lying to her.
I glanced at Louis. "Where's your scarf?" I asked, wiping my eyes and cheeks with the sleeve of my puffy coat.
"Huh?" He looked down at himself. "I guess outside."
I sighed, opening the door. I turned to both of them. "You both head to the kitchen. I'll make hot cocoa, okay?"
They both nodded, heading to the kitchen while debating - well, bickering - over who won their snowball fight. I shook my head, going out and closing the door behind me.
Like before, the air made my breath turn into small clouds.
I wonder why.
I was sure there was a totally scientific reason - Bulma would tell you that much. I just preferred not to hear it.
The crunch of the snow sounded beneath my shoes. It was weird how shows and cartoons portrayed winter as a wonderful white wonderland.
It really wasn't.
All of winter is stacked with gross gray-brown slush when rain comes, or when it's been out too long.
It's cold and wet. All of your clothes get ruined.
When you try to comfort yourself with the thought of, "oh, I'll get hot chocolate after. It'll be great," you end up with a wet, cold but slightly warmed mass of disappointment, known as yourself, as you try to fix the blanket and focus on the show instead of the weird feeling of dry clothes on your wet skin.
Okay, that last point was a bit more out there, but it made sense to me.
I sighed, making another cold cloud. I saw Louis' scarf covered in specks of snow. It must have fallen off. I bent down to pick it up, straightening back up. I glanced through the yard, the neatly trimmed bushes and the few leaves looking back at me. I shook my head, getting the snow out of my hair.
The ghost of a smile.
I blinked.
Either I was insane, or...
No. I was insane.
Just at the edge of the yard, behind a bush and looking away from me, I saw the dirty blonde hair. She locked eyes with mine, the same brown eyes that captivated me so long ago.
Donna.
The Donna that died almost a decade before.
No snow touched her shoulders.
Her eyes widened in alarm.
I backed up slowly, seeing her open her mouth to say something, but she closed it again. She stood from where she crouched.
I sprinted back to the door, slamming the door behind me. I pressed my back against the hard wood, waiting for the inevitable pull of the handle from outside.
Why was I running away?
Wasn't this what I wanted the day she left?
My left hand covered my mouth, holding the urge to call for Louis and the younger Donna.
In my right held nothing.
Louis' scarf.
I left it outside.
My heart was pounding in fast, shallow beats. It wasn't a problem with my birth defect, thankfully, but it certainly felt like I was going to faint.
I had to get his scarf.
"Why did you slam the door?"
I looked to my right. Lucas. He adjusted his glasses, a calm expression on his face.
"I...um...i-it's nothing..." The cold made me stutter. I was freezing so far. "U-Um...could you make D-Donna and Lucas some...er...hot c-chocolate?"
"...Uh...yeah..." He eyed me worriedly, heading to the kitchen, his shoes making a subtle squeak on the marble floor.
I let out a breath. My heart felt sluggish, even though I was freezing and gripped by fear. Now that was a problem with my VSD. Nothing major, however.
I steeled my nerves. Donna's gone. Donna left. Donna isn't here. I wasn't convinced in reality.
I opened the door.
I didn't hesitate in walking out. The familiar crunch of the snow didn't bring my mind away from the sight. I looked at the yard, behind the same shrub I had seen her.
She wasn't there.
My breathing calmed.
Of course not.
Part of me was disappointed.
I glanced around me as I picked up the scarf again, dusting it off. I slung it over my forearm, walking back towards the door.
She was dead.
She couldn't come back.
Augustine was right, as much as it hurt.
If I didn't get over her death...
I could imagine her again.
But something told me it wasn't imaginary.
But people can't come back from the dead...right?