Disclaimer: I don't own, or think I own, or will ever own, Dragonball Z and GT or anything related to them! This fic is purely for my entertainment, and I make no money from it.
Hi, everybody! This will probably be rated M later on for sexual content, but for now, it's rated M for violence, although it's not incredibly graphic (I think). It will probably also be a multi-chapter fic, so please review with feedback so I can improve on future chapters! If you have any questions, go ahead and ask them so I can make sure they're answered sometime down the road. Oh, also, this is told in different POV (point of view), but it will be labeled so you know. Enjoy and please click the review button at the end! ^^
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Goten's POV
I ducked as Gohan's fist came at my face. That turned out to be the wrong thing to do. Gohan snarled and grabbed my throat, squeezing until I could barely breathe.
"Please," I gasped, my vision beginning to cloud.
I was released from the choke by Gohan's fist slamming into my nose, spraying blood all over him and the tile floor. I crashed into the kitchen counter, where Gohan continued to beat me. I lost track of how long he had hit me after a while. As my life was pounded from my body, breathing became laborious.
Eventually, Gohan slammed my head against the floor one last time before spitting on me, lying in a bloody heap. "Get up, Goten. You disgust me."
He turned and left the room, leaving me struggling to stay conscious. The tears on my face trickled into my shirt, damp with sweat and blood. It wasn't really the physical pain that made me cry, although it played a large role, but the emotional pain was what truly wounded.
Gohan used to be the perfect brother, always answering my typical childish questions and looking out for me. But when I entered high school, he just changed. Tousan and Kaasan had left to go shopping in town, leaving us at home. It started out normal, with us playing video games and sparring in the backyard, but then we took out old family albums.
Gohan's face darkened and his ki spiked randomly as we flipped through the pictures. When we got to one of my birth, he glared at the people surrounding Kaasan in the hospital.
"He should've been there," I heard him mutter. I didn't have time to think on it though, because Gohan ripped the album from my hands and flung it at the wall.
He seized my hair and yanked my head back, causing me to yelp in pain and surprise. I tried to dodge his punches, but with his hand fisted in my hair, I could barely move. Gohan didn't talk about that day later. He made me clean up the blood and air out the room before Tousan and Kaasan returned from shopping.
When Kaasan fussed about my bruises, Gohan made up an excuse, saying our sparring had gotten out of hand. Tousan, being so clueless, didn't question it. Or the countless other times it happened.
But it really was hard to think Gohan was capable of such things. He was so gentle on the outside, yet when it was just him and me and something was on his mind, he became a raging monster.
His attitude towards Tousan changed dramatically too. Gohan refused to spar with him and barely spoke to him, answering Tousan's questions with short one word replies.
I had enough common sense never to tell anyone of what Gohan did to me, not even Trunks. But as the bruises piled up, Trunks recently began to question my stories of sparring.
I picked myself off the floor, holding my side where I was sure a few ribs had cracked. That wouldn't be the first time, or the last. My eyes rose to the fireplace, where a picture of our family sat in a silver frame.
That was when Kaasan had been alive. I remember her being stern, but when no one else was around, she would plant kisses and hugs all over me, making me giggle and wiggle with delight. But then cancer overtook her strong body, winning the fight in the end. Tousan seemed to be in a daze ever since, leaving to train early in the morning and not returning until late at night. Gohan's beatings had intensified.
Forgetting my injuries, I sighed, sending a sharp pain into my chest. While I showered the blood off my skin, I thought about Gohan. He just came home after teaching his last class and dragged me from my room, where I was doing homework. He never gave the reason to the beatings, but I could usually figure them out.
I thought back to school. I was a junior, which just happened to be the grade Gohan taught. Four out of my seven classes were taken with him. I carefully scanned through each of them, until I hit science. Then I remembered. We had gotten our tests back today and I had gotten a B. Gohan didn't tolerate poor grades, claiming it ruined his reputation with the other faculty members if his own brother performed poorly.
I turned the shower off and dried myself, dabbing gently at the cuts and tender bruises. The currently invisible ones would be prominent in the morning. I crept past Gohan's room into mine, where I changed into a long sleeved turtleneck and jeans, even though it was hot outside. I couldn't risk anyone seeing my injuries. They were our little secret.
The kitchen was a mess. Dishes had fallen from cabinets and shattered on the floor, leaving shards of glass everywhere. My blood was smeared on the counters and puddles of it had collected on the tiles. Being a Saiyan, I could handle the blood loss without dying, although it left me weak.
Gohan usually beat me outside, where my blood could soak into the grass. I guess he was really angry today. I picked up the long blood-stained broom and began sweeping the ruins. Our grass grew green and tall.
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