Don't own anything…no money being made. Allusions to sex, and language warnings.
One For the Road
Part One: The Van
Goten's foot very violently connected with the tires. Giving a curse and a yell, the halfling jumped back, clutching his now-throbbing toes and glaring his hatred at the dilapidated vehicle. Goku poked his spiky head out from inside, a disappointed expression plastering his normally benign visage. Eyebrows knit together at the center, frowning at the outside world, glaring against the sun's eager rays. A westerly breeze danced itself into action, casting its fate in their direction. It smelled of of salt, seaweed, and somewhere far away.
"Nope. Don't think it's working," the even tenor declared.
Goten rolled his eyes. "I didn't think so, either." One hand fingered a cell phone that lay constantly between his fingers. Never mind the fact that he had a carry sack strapped to his back; the phone had become very much a part of him. A spear of light caught the polished surface of the communication device, making it glitter like the treasure it was seen to be. A sharp beeping sound wafted from the contraption, and Goten ignored it.
The cumbersome old van had been given to him by a friend of Krillin's, who'd overestimated the demi Saiya-jin's interest in various assortments of trucks, cars, and the like. Good natured as ever, Goten had glued on a happy grin upon seeing the ancient (and fast falling-apart) gift, attempting to make the best of it by actually trying to use the thing. But after several tests, it had proven itself unworthy of the open road.
Goku leaped nimbly down from where he'd been sitting at the driver's seat. Fixing dark eyes upon his son, the Earth-raised Saiya-jin gave a lopsided grin, a bit of that goddamned cheerful spark re-entering his facial cast. "Oh well. You win some, you lose some."
"Well, I guess I just lost some." The younger's voice exited his mouth with more force than he'd have preferred; he was hungry, tired, frustrated, and feeling decidedly waspish.
Goku laughed and gave his son an affectionate shove. Green and brown stems of grass were crushed underfoot, the field itself backed by nothing but open space and blue sky, rolling endlessly onwards, the ancient witness of days come and gone. Blue as the bubble-gum ice cream Goten loved so much. Blue as a robin's egg. Blue as the color of Trunks' favorite shirt. Blue as Marron's eyes. Blue as...
"Marron?"
No response. The bedsheets rustled, and she shifted positions, coming to nestle against him. Goten glanced down at her, bare shoulders vulnerable in the lenient rays of late afternoon sunlight. A silence settled over the scene, a reflection, the sort that followed the passion and mad fervor of lovemaking.
"Marron."
Awkward hands fumbled with fabric, and, with surprising gentleness, he turned the human girl towards him.
"Marron. How...?"
She blinked, semi-comprehending what Goten's eyes silently pleaded for. For her to say something. For her to give acquittal to something that they had allowed to happen in the few moments of provocation before the tempest of carnality had broken...
"Goten!"
The halfling jerked at the sound of his own name.
"Are you even listening to me?"
He nodded dumbly, then tuned out Goku's ramblings, mind sliding miserably back to the memory of what was jumbled, twisted beyond all recollection. It had occurred almost seven days ago. Seven anxiety-filled days ago. And he wasn't sure how much longer it could be concealed.
What?! Now that's the point? See how long she can hide her pregnancy? And how do I even know she's pregnant? She hasn't even said anything to me. Yet. But...wait...would she tell you? She probably is! That's why she hasn't spoken to you for so long. You didn't use any protection...you didn't take any precautions...you didn't think...!
It was one of those things in life that had just happened. Suddenly, his childhood friend and confident had become a playmate in a different sense of the word.
Goten's cheeks flushed a deep shade of scarlet.
Damn you to hell, Trunks. You're the guy that sleeps around on a regular basis. So why me?!
The thought stood true.
Despite the fact that Goten seemed the more frivolous of the two, despite his stereotypical obsession with the cell phone and the fliratatious sometimes-girlfriend that clung to his side every once in awhile, Trunks proved to be the more exuberant of the two. On some mad instinct, Goten ripped off his bag pack, withdrawing both pen and notebook. Goku didn't seem to notice. Seating himself hastily within the shade of the old vehicle, he scribbled frantically, writing:
Life's Ironic Twist Number One: I get a girl pregnant before my best friend does.
But Marron had been…
…Marron had…
…Marron…
The van suddenly roared to life behind the duo. Both turned in surprise.
Inside the van was 'little' Marron, sitting behind the wheel and grinning in an uncharacteristically triumphant way. Standard pink clothing. Hair pulled back into a ponytail instead of a double set of pigtails.
Beautiful, even under simple circumstances.
"Marron!"
The human girl grimaced as the engine sputtered, then leapt from the car and into Goten's reluctant embrace. Uncomfortable, he pulled away, and was instantly sorry for causing disappointment to flicker behind the fathomless eyes.
"Marron," he said again, attempting to falsify happiness. "How the hell did you get here? What are you doing here?"
"Easy. Dad was on his way off the island. He took me with him, and I took public transit here." She winked. "You and your dad. So easy to sneak up on."
Goten's stomach dropped to his feet. He was tempted to give her a good, hearty shake and tell her to just spit whatever it was she had come here to say out. Instead, he narrowed his eyes, wondering at the odd expression that adorned the pliant, tender features.
"Goten, we need to talk."
"You're pregnant."
She looked up at him. Her eyes blazed with shame, fear…
…and honesty.
***
Chi Chi was sobbing by the time Goku arrived home, devoid of his son. He'd left Goten and Marron to discuss whatever it was they were talking about—they seemed so serious, it had aroused even his curiosity. He'd flung open the front door with an unrivaled eagerness; he was childhood, personified in the form of a grown man. Affectionate, high-spirited, brushing past the scattered pieces of furniture and paper (spring cleaning had come faster than he'd been able to blink), a devious smile jeered at the corners of his mouth till it turned upwards at the corners.
Portraits, photos graced the long corridor, reminder of a family that had come together, only to be torn apart time and time again, and find the strength to band together once more. Scattered scraps of paper littered the floor, doodles that sang wistfully of the incident-filled childhood of two demi Saiya-jins, notes, letters...
Damn, it was messy in here.
"Chi Chi?"
He'd hunted, searching through the various rooms, seeking out his mate...
...to find her curled up on the couch, sobbing.
Confused, the Saiya-jin husband, warrior, and father curled up next to her, and she'd leaned into his touch, grasping at him like a drowning woman clings to her only hope of survival. Goku, puzzled, clutched her, marvelling at how small was between trapped between his arms. The scent of her was comforting: open air and herbs straight from the kitchen and spitfire, strength, temper, determination and all. When she was finally able to speak, only a few words tore themselves from her mouth:
"My uncle…is.…dead…"
Goku's brow furrowed.
Her uncle? Didn't even know she had one. Then again, Chi Chi never talks to me about her side family.
It was beyond perplexing. She hadn't seemed very close to this 'mystery figure,' why all the emotional intensity now?
As minutes ticked away on the clock, Goku began finding out more and more as his loved one's tongue loosed itself.
Her uncle's name was Hisato, and he was her deceased mother's brother. Though Chi Chi had fallen out of contact with him years ago, she'd still retained a sense of closeness to the man. Memories came gushing from the depths of yesteryear, and they played like photographs in Goku's mind. The loss of Chi Chi's mother, how her uncle had held the little girl's hand as she stood by at the funeral, the way Hisato had come to visit her, clad in his simple clothing, thinning hair, merry eyes and all. How he had played father to her in the days that followed Mother's death, when her patriarch had gone into mourning.
It came rushing out, a floodtide of long-repressed memories, a whirl of thoughts and regrets and 'could-have-beens,' finally coming down the last decision:
Somebody had to go and comfort the grieving widow Hisato had left behind.
And Chi Chi wasn't going to be the one.
"…I'm not going," the woman gasped, sobbing into Goku's now-drenched gi. Goku began to protest out of instinct, but was stopped by his wife's sudden outburst.
"I'm not going I'm not going I'm not going I'M NOT GOING!!! I can't stand the sight of that woman's face!!!" the words were saturated with dislike, rage, and sympathy. Hisato's widow and Chi Chi had both lost somebody very dear, but a long-standing rivalry refused to lower itself.
The warrior sighed and shook his head. This was his lover, his friend. They had gone through countless experiences together, from the ardor of the wedding night, to the estranged atmosphere that had driven itself between them years later, and the struggle to overcome it. But there were aspects of her Goku was sure, he would never come to understand.
His brow furrowed for a moment. "Y...you know, you could send me."
"What?!" Chi Chi shrieked. "And leave me here when I need you the most?"
Goku cringed as a verbal bashing of epic proportions began taking place. He let it run its course, then soothed Chi Chi with small physical gestures. "Well you've got to send somebody. How would you feel if—" the man stopped himself just in time.
A shadow cast itself at the doorway.
Goten stood in the family room's entryway, looking like a ten-ton weight had just been dropped onto his shoulders. The hideous orange sweatshirt he'd recieved for his birthday and worn in hopes of repairing the van was stained, and the thick, raven hair was tousled by the ever-increasing breeze. His mother turned a tear-stained face onto her son, still hic-coughing every now and then.
Goku looked from offspring to wife, once, twice, three times.
The Solution hit him. A grin cast itself onto his face.
"Goten! Just the guy I wanted to see…"
***
Marron hesitated at the unlocked screen door of the Kame House. Clutching her purse to her side, she bit her lip, staring straight down at the sand. The sound of the waves echoed mournfully in her ears, crying a death-march of sorts for her. She had returned to the island just minutes ago, escorted by Juuhachigou, out on a shopping trip and passing their home on her way to the next location.The blonde android had gazed at her knowingly for just a moment, and, in that terrifying amount of time, Marron wondered if her mother knew.
Daddy's little girl.
The three words pounded over and over in her skull.
Daddy's little girl.
Daddy's little girl is pregnant. Pregnant with his best friend's son's child.
Shaking her head, she wondered if things could possibly get any more complicated.
So hard to understand. Her father loved her, there was no
doubt about that. Her mother loved her, despite the pretended detachment. And
she'd played her part, the role of the unselfish, dutiful daughter. The girl
next door. Marron, plain, golden-haired, and vaguely charming if she weren't
so shy.
Her breath quivered as she drew it in.
What will they think? Were the first words that entered her mind even as she stepped into the shade of the place where she'd been raised.
***
"WHAT?! YOU'RE MAKING ME GO?!"
Goku crossed his arms over his chest impatiently. "Aww…c'mon Goten." His dark eyes bored into those of his son's. "You're mom wants it."
"Oh, and you're gonna tell me it's tradition, right?! Send a peacemaker, a comforter, a sucker over to console the widow, right?"
"That wasn't very nice."
Goten's shoulders sagged. The whine of the refrigerator was a constant noise in the background; the kitchen was empty save himself and his father; Chi Chi had retired early to bed. The small room was cluttered, due to the fact that cleaning had been left till last. The windows boxed in the starlight; a mere snapshot of the depths of space.
He knew damn well that his previous words had been harsh, unfair. And he was feeling damn guilty about it, too. The halfling turned his back on his father, seating himself at the table and resting his chin in his hands. Goku's gentle, expectant voice prodded from behind.
"Well?"
"Screw this. Why me? Why not you?"
His sire's face held a gentle undertone to it. For a second, the roles were put back in order: Goten was inquiring child once more, and Goku was all-knowing father. A sense of comfort banished the chaos created by the last few hours.
"You wouldn't say no to your mom, would you?"
Silence.
"Look. I know you've been having...problems...getting along with her. But you have to understand: that's just the way she is. Her life hasn't exactly been easy, and it hasn't made her the most secure person on this planet. Please try to understand that."
More silence. Finally, Gohan lifted his gaze, glaring at his father.
"Fine. Whatever. I'll go. Not because I feel sorry for you, or Mom. It's cause I've got nothing better to do."
Because I want to get away from here.
Goku's eyes lit up.
"But I'm taking the damn van."
"Why the van? You'd get there—"
"'Cause I want to go slow," Goten snapped irritably. "I don't want to get there fast. I want to take all the time in this world."
Because I want to drive, long and hard.
And he stood, requesting that no more favors be asked of him, exiting through the side entrance and vanishing into a night that was young.
Goku stared into the face of a slammed door.
***
On a night when the feeling of vast emptiness penetrated the halfing's soul was an unmatched ferocity, when a chill breeze stirred his tangled locks, whispering the secrets of the universe into his ears alone, Goten knew he was screwed. Badly. Cold dew from the grass clung to his runners and made damp the bottom of his pant legs. The cell phone at his side beeped violently, demanding to be head. For the second time in his life, he ignored it. Phone calls could be returned. Text messages could be replied to.
Pregnancies could not be undone.
The van stood silently within its shroud of darkness. Goten kicked the tires once more, running a finger along the side door. Ancient thing.
He was going alone.
Aaaaaaallllllll aaaallooooooone, dammit.
Unless…
…unless…
The idea struck him down, swept him off his feet.
Who said he would have to endure by himself?
No, the angel on his shoulder stated. He's busy twenty four seven. You expect him to take several weeks off?
The again, the devil pointed out, he's your fusion partner. You've shared one body. Done battle in unison. He should understand.
No, no no! the angel cried. It's not right, forcing him to come along with you, to take the long and dusty road to perdition. Or to evil in-laws and relatives. Or...whatever.
Pushover, the devil taunted. Pushoooveeer! Somebody needs something and is too chicken to ask for it.
The angel rose to the bait. I am not!
Goten flipped open the cell phone.
Dialed the number.
A sleepy voice on the other end of the line crankily answered, asking the demi Saiya-jin if he'd lost his mind, phoning at such an hour.
Goten waited for the rant to complete itself.
"Trunks?" pause. "Hey buddy, I need your help…"
