A/N: for those of you that didn't read the summary, this story contains character death.

Such Promise

Gohan sat at his desk, red-rimmed eyes circled with dark from countless sleepless nights. He was so tired. His pen stilled as he finished the last of his letters. He placed it gently into its envelope and wrote Piccolo's name across the front before placing it on top of the others. One for his father, one for Goten, one for his mom, one for Vegeta and Bulma and, finally, one for Videl.

He stood slowly, weariness making the simplest movements a chore. He hadn't slept in weeks, but this was normal for him. It had started when he was younger, he'd been unable to sleep for nights on end, his brain refusing to shut down. At first it was a blessing, he used the extra time to study and train. But as the years passed it became steadily worse, and only meditation kept him sane. But lately even the meditation did nothing to quiet his mind.

It was a type of epilepsy, the doctors had told them. Highly uncommon, but not unheard of. He remembered, as a child, how he would crawl into his mother's bed and she would hold him through the night until exhaustion took her.

With tears trickling slowly down his cheeks, Gohan thought of his promise to Piccolo, made so many years before.

XxX

"I-I can't anymore…" A teenage Gohan whimpered into his mentor's chest. He'd just had another of his attacks, his brain freezing during a spar and causing him to fall from the air leaving him crumpled, unconscious, in the bottom of a crater.

"Gohan, I know it's hard, but you have to fight it. You have never given up before, you cannot let this defeat you now." Gohan nodded, sobbing, as Piccolo's arms tightened around him. Drawing comfort from the touch, his sobs subsided, and his breathing gradually slowed. After a while he sat back and looked Piccolo in the eye.

"Promise me, Gohan, that you will keep fighting, that you will not give up."

"I promise." Gohan whispered, nodding.

XxX

Gohan moved back to his desk in the corner of his study and opened the bottom draw, pulling his knife out and unsheathing it with a small smile. He'd made it himself for hunting, infusing Ki into the blade until the metal was strong enough to pierce Saiyan flesh.

He slowly looked at the pile of letters, saying one last goodbye as he held out his arm and slowly down with the blade, drawing a line from wrist to inner elbow. He watched in fascination as the blood welled up and spilled out. Then, moving quicker this time, knowing that he had little time before the muscles in his left arm realized they'd been severed he repeated the process on his right arm. In a few moments he felt the strength leaving his arms and he felt them going numb.

He slumped against his desk, resting his head in the cool wood and simply waited, feeling his body going slowly numb as blood soaked into the dark rug underfoot. He thought of his family, of his wife, Videl, sleeping in bed. He knew that her dreams were tormented by worry for him. He felt tears flowing down his face. Finally He would be able to give her the rest she deserved, she would be able to sleep free of concern for him. It pained him that he couldn't offer her the protection that she needed and he knew that he'd betrayed their vows by not being able to be there for her.

Slowly the world around him faded and his thoughts quieted, a small smile played at his lips as he faded into utter oblivion, finally at rest.

XxX

Videl woke suddenly, a cold chill running down her spine. She turned to Gohan, but thee bed beside her was cold and empty. Sighing, she pulled away the covers and padded out of the room and down the hall, knowing that Gohan would be in his study. As she approached she suddenly felt the air cool and a instinctual fear tightened in her stomach.

XxX

Piccolo felt the sudden drop in Gohan's Ki and snapped out of his meditation, raising two fingers to his head and disappearing, to reappear instantly outside Gohan's house. He rushed in and headed towards Gohan's study, freezing as he heard Videl scream. No… his mind whispered in denial.

He rushed into Gohan's study and felt his blood run cold at the sight of Videl kneeling next to Gohan's desk, her hands wrapped around his arm, dark blood dripping down her arm to stain her cram nightgown.

As he approached, Piccolo felt the last of Gohan's Ki leave his body, and Videl threw herself against his chest, sobs wracking her body as she chanted out loud the word running through his mind.

"no…no…no…no…" she sobbed, tightening her grip on her husband's body. As piccolo moved closer, his eyes fell on the letters lying on the desk and, seeing his name on the top one, lifted it and opened it with shaking hands.

Dear Piccolo

You were the only one I could turn to when I felt I had nothing left in me. I wrote this poem almost a year after that spar. I thought you should know that you were the only thing keeping me alive for so long, my dearest friend. I am sorry to break this promise, but I am so tired, I am weary of fighting, of seeing the sadness in the eyes of those dearest to me. I'm sick of causing them pain. It's best this way.

How do you break a promise
made to save a life?
how could you want to break it
when it was wrought in strife?
How do you break it then
when consequence lies unknown?
How could you think to break it
when the life saved was your own?

It should be oh so easy,
so why can't I lift the blade
and undo this binding promise
I never should have made
And still I cannot do it
though tears stream down my face
I cannot cut away the bonds
that tie me to this place
I cannot leave behind
the one-too-many treacheries
I can't repay them with my blood
I cannot set them free.

You kept me going when nothing else could. And for that I will always be in your debt.

Gohan

The end

XxXxX

I know that this isn't the happiest of stories, but it's one that I've needed to post for a long time and I finally got the push to do so.

This Story is dedicated to a young man named Alan Daniels, and to all those that suffer from Epilepsy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball or any of it's characters, I do however own this story, and the poem within titled Such Promise.

"You cannot stop the birds of sorrow from flying over your head, but you can stop them from nesting in your hair"-taken from Walk Two Moons