AN: A small one shot to satisfy you while I get the other stories checked over.
Her head sunk to her chest, tears slipping down her pale face. Her heart was shattered into tiny pieces.
Her mind shot back to just an hour earlier.
"GOHAN!" Chichi screeched, throwing her arms around her son. Her eyes instantly started watering.
"Mom." Gohan mumbled. His face was pressed right against her breasts. He felt his face heat up.
She waved back and forths, almost suffocating her son. Chichi pulled back after a while. She gazed at her Gohan, studying him, checking for any signs of cuts and bruises.
Finding none, she glanced about sharply, looking for her Goku, and angry expression written on her face.
It took her a bit to realize that he wasn't there. Her face drained. "Where's your father, Gohan?"
When she didn't receive an answer, she looked back into his eyes. They were shrouded with unshed tears.
He couldn't look at her anymore.
Dread filled the pit of her stomach. "You revived him, didn't you?"
No answer. He looked at the ground when her arms tightened around the boy.
"You did, right? GOHAN!" Chichi snapped, shaking her boy, her hands turning white, and her eyes expanding. "Gohan?" she whispered, arms going limp.
"Mom, I-" he choked on his words, a single tear sliding down his face. As much as Gohan wanted too, he couldn't finish. He was left there, feeling cold, the toe of his boot grounding into the ground.
"He's dead, woman."
Both mother and son let their eyes lead them to the door, where Piccolo stood. His expression was stoic. The Namekian was tired of Gohan stalling, and had decided to step in.
"He can't-" something caught in her throat, "I thought you guys-" her mouth formed an O, and her hands clenched and unclenched.
Piccolo grew irritated. "He didn't want to. He said it would be better this way." he deadpanned. He could care less of what Chichi thought. It was affecting him a different way. The bastard was leaving Gohan fatherless. That fact alone pissed him off.
Before he knew it, he saw stars. He tried to focus on the woman, only able to see that she was in a fit of rage.
"Mom! Don't throw things!" Gohan pleaded unsuccessfully. She had thrown the bulking T.V. The next thing in her hands was a chair. It hurtled towards the unfocused Piccolo, hitting him straight in his chest. The force alone sent him outside, sprawled on his ass, head swimming.
"Don't you dare say that!" she wailed, another chair flying out, Piccolo dodging it barely.
"Mom! You have to listen. It is true." Gohan hated the brute truth that came out of his mouth, wishing he could take it back. His mother pivoted to her son, eyes glazed over with a rage so deep that it scared the young Saiyan.
The next thing he knew, a bottle was hurled at him. He saw it in time, and dodged it, not prepared for the next thing that was thrown at him. The lamp hit his head, shattering. Gohan could only stand there, eyes wide. Blood trickled down, sliding into his eye.
Chichi stood there, legs spread, chest rising and falling heavily, the rage slowly fading. The realization of what she had just done to her son shocked her. The color drained from her face, her eyes dulling. "Gohan," she forced out through gritted teeth, "go away."
He heard the words, but he didn't move. "Mom, you didn't mean too, it-"
"-I said, go away." she clenched her fists, not knowing what to do. She was conflicted between the fact that her husband didn't want to come back, and the fact that she just hurt her son. He was bleeding, for Kami's sake.
"But mom-" her son tried again.
"GO THE HELL AWAY!" she shouted. Chichi didn't like the way she was talking to her son, and it pained her to do so. She attempted to talk in a slow calm voice the next time she opened her mouth. "Gohan, please, just go. Go with Piccolo. Come back later."
"Mom-" he wanted to stay with his mother badly. He stumbled back as the force of a slap came across his face.
His mother had her head hung. "Please..."
The crack in her voice made him relent. "I'll go." he turned on the balls of his feet, heading out of the house. "Let's go, Piccolo."
That was the opposite of what the Namekian wanted to do. What he wanted to do at this moment, was to make Chichi wish that she hadn't hit his pupil. He stood up, aiming to head inside to give her a piece of his mind. Just as he crossed the threshold, a book hit him in the head.
"GO AWAY!" Chichi raged, sending more at him. All she wanted was time alone. The sorrow rang clear in her voice.
"Come on, Piccolo." The green man looked at his pupil, not expecting the look that was directed at him.
Gohan's eyes held anguish, and pleaded with him not to bother with it. They were wide and held understanding in them.
Piccolo looked at Chichi, a book flying at him, then back at Gohan, and back. With his eyes, he disintegrated the books flying at him. He wanted to ignore Gohan's pleads, but also didn't want to go against his wishes.
"Fine," he growled, not happy. He flew at Gohan, snatching him up and off, away from the boy's home.
When Chichi believed them to be gone, she fell down, sobbing. "Goku..."
Why did Goku have to act like that? Why did he have to pull that act over and over again, leaving her by herself? She had Gohan, and she loved that fact, but she missed the warmth of her love when he fell asleep at night.
For once, she wanted that warm feeling. She wanted to make love to him every night. Over all, all she wanted was somebody to cuddle with, soothing her night-time fears. She couldn't fall asleep without knowing that she was safe, tucked away into the arms of the one she loved.
Her heart was shattered. He left her repeatedly, one time after another, only herself to look after their son.
At the thought of the word 'son', she burst out in a sob. The closest thing to her was a picture of the happy family. She hurled it against the wall, the sound of shattering glass doing nothing to soothe her. It only made her cry harder. Her chest tightened as she felt a kick.
She lied a hand on her stomach, a sob catching in her throat, choking her.
Most of all, she had wanted him to be there to know about the son that was growing within her. She curled in tighter into her ball, miscellaneous shards and bits of things she had destroyed shifting.
"We're having a baby..." she whispered to herself, clenching her eyes shut.
That was what she imagined saying to him when he came back.
She hacked, sniffling. It was never going to happen.
She felt as if she were the problem.
She had finally did it.
She had ran the father of both of her kids away, and that alone was enough to break her.