Disclaimer: I don't own
DBZ. I don't own Barely
Breathing, Duncan Sheik
Owns that.
I know what your doing, I see it all to clear
I only taste the saline when I kiss away your tears
You really had me going, wishing on a star
But the clack holes that surround you are heavier by far
I believed in your confusion, you were so completely torn
Well it must have been that yesterday was the day that I was born
There's not much to examine, there's nothing left to hide
You can't really be serious if you have to ask me why
I say Goodbye...
~*~Flashback~*~
Vegeta stood there, poised. He picked up his bag and walked slowly to the door, as he reached the door, he paused. He could hear Trunks, in his room, calling him. He set the bag down, and made his way to Trunk's room. He pushed the door open and knelt by Trunks bed. The three year old was sitting up in bed.
~"Daddy, Where you going?"~ The boy asked
~"On a trip."~ Vegeta whispered, ruffling the boys hair gently. He always wondered how his son got that white blonde hair, when his own was jet black and Bulmas was a rare blue. He laughed sadly as he gazed at his sons face. ~"I might not come back... So don't be sad. Be good for your mother and for,"~ he paused, hating the word in his mouth, ~"And for Yamcha..."~ the boy wrinkled his nose.
~" Yamcha can't fight..."~ He shrugged ~" Besides, he wants me to call him daddy ..."~ the boy looked at his father hopefully.
~'What did you do when he asked you?"~ Vegeta asked, struggling to keep his temper in check.
~" I punched him in the stomach! He doubled over and he started to cry!"~ Trunks responded, bouncing wildly in his bed, ~" And he went and told mommy!"~ Trunks cackled happily.
~" Keep it down"~ Vegeta said quietly as he stood up. Trunks stood up in bed. ~" Dad, Take me with you!"~
~"No."~ He turned away.
~" Why?"~ Asked Trunks, climbing out of bed ~" Because you're-"~ Vegeta stopped, ~" You're not strong enough yet"~ He walked out. Trunks stared after his father, his eyes closed. ~// I'll get stronger!! I'll get so strong; you'll want to be my dad when I'm that strong! //~
~*~End of Flashback ~*~
~// Its been 14 years since I saw my dad...//~ Trunks mused, he was flying to see Vegeta. He could feel the air whip past his face, and it swept his hair back from his face. ~// I wonder if he'll recognize me...//~ He self-consciously brought this hand up and swept it though his hair. ~// The last time he saw me was when I was 3... My hair was white back then...//~ He looked at the snow covered ground below him and he turned slightly to his right. A few moments later he was on the ground, in front of a large blue-green house... He walked to the door, his footsteps crunching on the crust of snow, which covered everything. He reached the porch and stepped to the door, his hand hovered above the door handle....
* * *
'Cause I am barely breathing
I can't find the air
I don't know who I'm kidding
Imagining you care
And I could stand here waiting
A fool for another day
But I don't suppose it's worth the price, worth the price
That I would pay....
* * *
Vegeta looked out of the window, watching his son. Trunks stood there with his hand on the doorknob, stock-still. Vegeta stood there a moment longer and then walked quietly to the door. He pulled the door open and looked at his son. Trunks blinked at him, then smiled tentatively. Vegeta moved to the side.
~"Are you going to come in?"~ He asked, his arms folded in front of him. Trunks flushed and walked in, Vegeta shut the door quietly and padded past his son to the living room. Trunks followed after slipping his boots off in the hall. He stood at the living room entryway, his mouth agape.
~"Do you like it?"~ Vegeta asked, his hand sweeping over the room. The room had been decorated, a huge tree dominated one corner of the room, and a huge fireplace occupied the opposite corner. There were garnishes and Christmas lights and there were three stockings pinned up beside the fireplace. Bing Crosby's 'Here Comes Santa Claus' jingled away merrily in the corner. Vegeta stood beside the tree, uncomfortably shifting form one foot to the other. ~"Well? How is it Trunks?"~ Trunks grinned.
~"I thought you didn't celebrate holidays Dad, This is a huge surprise!" He strode forward and hugged Vegeta, then turn to the tree. ~"Dad this is beautiful! Why did you do this?"~ Vegeta smiled behind his sons back. Trunks dropped to the floor examining the huge amount of brightly colored presents. Vegeta let out a laugh and joined him. ~" They're for you, and Bulma"~ He smiled cautiously and handed a red one to him. ~" Open yours, and we'll bring Bulmas to her..."~
* * *
Everyone keeps asking, what's it all about?
I used to be so certain and I can't figure out
What is this attraction? I only feel the pain
There's nothing left to reason and only you to blame
Will it ever change?
'Cause I am barely breathing,
And I can't find the air
I don't know who I'm kidding,
Imagining you care,
And I could stand here waiting
A fool for another day
But I don't suppose it's worth the price, worth the price that I would pay...
* * *
Bulma frowned, She could hear to men talking, but Yamcha wasn't supposed to be home for another two hours, and Trunks was, well, only god knew where Trunks was right now. She walked out of the kitchen, wiping her floury hands on her apron and stopped, her mouth open.
~"Vegeta? Trunks? When did you guys get here?"~ She brushed her hair back form her face, leaving a flour streak on her cheek. Vegeta stood up, ~// His hair has streaked gray//~ she noted, ~// It looks good on him... Handsome is the word I guess...//~
~"Mom, its Christmas Eve!"~ Trunks grinned, his eyes shining, ~" Dad brought presents for all of us-"~ He stopped, noticing the pained look on his fathers face ~"Dad? Dad what's wrong?"~
~"Just a migraine Trunks, take it easy."~ Vegeta popped his fingers, ~"Lets get down to Decorating this Christmas tree!"~ He grabbed a string of cranberries and stopped and Turned back to Trunks, ~" By the way, the blue hair looks good on you, Trunks..."~ He turned back to the tree.
* * *
I've come to find
I may never know
Your changing mind
Is it friend or foe?
I rise above
Or sink below
With every time
You come and go
Please don't, Come and go...
* * *
Trunks sat there, his eyes filmed over, and his toothless mouth opened in a secret smile. He ran his hand over his shiny, bald, head and he sighed. His wheelchair turned around and he wheeled himself to the table. His dinner sat there, cold and gray. But he what he saw was the meal he had eaten with his father that Christmas Eve, Turkey and stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, asparagus and hollandaise sauce, and warm golden rolls. He sat there, lost in reminiscence. The next day, his nephew found him in his bed, his eyes wide-open, and his toothless old mouth still wearing his secret grin.
His funeral was held two days later, and many people were there. But only a precious few saw one old man, middle aged some said, Who stood at the edge of the graveyard, head bowed, as tears ran off his cheeks onto the cold hard ground. When the service was over, and the casket laid to rest in the ground, the man ventured over, and gently let a photograph fall from his fingers onto the freshly turned earth...
~"Goodbye..."~, the old man turned and walked slowly away, his head tilted towards the sky.
~" How I wish I could join you, my dear son. But I made a wish before you were born, and it came true. This is the price that I must pay, for the terrible wish I made..."~ the man whispered to the wind as his eyes closed, and his head tilted back, letting his gray hair whip in the wind.
The photo blew from the grave, and stopped against a stone. In the picture, the man, a woman with blue hair, and a boy with vivid blue-black hair all stood, smiling as the snow fell around them. The window in the background revealed a tree, glittering and sparkling with artificial lights and tinsel.
Ironically, there was snow on the ground as the man took off. The picture, trapped against a stone, was slowly covered with the unforgiving crystals.
* * *
'Cause I am barely breathing,
And I can't find the air
I don't know who I'm kidding
Imagining you care
And I could stand here waiting
A fool for another day,
I don't suppose it's worth the price, worth the price
That I would pay...
* * *
Trunks Fans, I'm sorry...
~Lestat De Lioncourt~
DBZ. I don't own Barely
Breathing, Duncan Sheik
Owns that.
I know what your doing, I see it all to clear
I only taste the saline when I kiss away your tears
You really had me going, wishing on a star
But the clack holes that surround you are heavier by far
I believed in your confusion, you were so completely torn
Well it must have been that yesterday was the day that I was born
There's not much to examine, there's nothing left to hide
You can't really be serious if you have to ask me why
I say Goodbye...
~*~Flashback~*~
Vegeta stood there, poised. He picked up his bag and walked slowly to the door, as he reached the door, he paused. He could hear Trunks, in his room, calling him. He set the bag down, and made his way to Trunk's room. He pushed the door open and knelt by Trunks bed. The three year old was sitting up in bed.
~"Daddy, Where you going?"~ The boy asked
~"On a trip."~ Vegeta whispered, ruffling the boys hair gently. He always wondered how his son got that white blonde hair, when his own was jet black and Bulmas was a rare blue. He laughed sadly as he gazed at his sons face. ~"I might not come back... So don't be sad. Be good for your mother and for,"~ he paused, hating the word in his mouth, ~"And for Yamcha..."~ the boy wrinkled his nose.
~" Yamcha can't fight..."~ He shrugged ~" Besides, he wants me to call him daddy ..."~ the boy looked at his father hopefully.
~'What did you do when he asked you?"~ Vegeta asked, struggling to keep his temper in check.
~" I punched him in the stomach! He doubled over and he started to cry!"~ Trunks responded, bouncing wildly in his bed, ~" And he went and told mommy!"~ Trunks cackled happily.
~" Keep it down"~ Vegeta said quietly as he stood up. Trunks stood up in bed. ~" Dad, Take me with you!"~
~"No."~ He turned away.
~" Why?"~ Asked Trunks, climbing out of bed ~" Because you're-"~ Vegeta stopped, ~" You're not strong enough yet"~ He walked out. Trunks stared after his father, his eyes closed. ~// I'll get stronger!! I'll get so strong; you'll want to be my dad when I'm that strong! //~
~*~End of Flashback ~*~
~// Its been 14 years since I saw my dad...//~ Trunks mused, he was flying to see Vegeta. He could feel the air whip past his face, and it swept his hair back from his face. ~// I wonder if he'll recognize me...//~ He self-consciously brought this hand up and swept it though his hair. ~// The last time he saw me was when I was 3... My hair was white back then...//~ He looked at the snow covered ground below him and he turned slightly to his right. A few moments later he was on the ground, in front of a large blue-green house... He walked to the door, his footsteps crunching on the crust of snow, which covered everything. He reached the porch and stepped to the door, his hand hovered above the door handle....
* * *
'Cause I am barely breathing
I can't find the air
I don't know who I'm kidding
Imagining you care
And I could stand here waiting
A fool for another day
But I don't suppose it's worth the price, worth the price
That I would pay....
* * *
Vegeta looked out of the window, watching his son. Trunks stood there with his hand on the doorknob, stock-still. Vegeta stood there a moment longer and then walked quietly to the door. He pulled the door open and looked at his son. Trunks blinked at him, then smiled tentatively. Vegeta moved to the side.
~"Are you going to come in?"~ He asked, his arms folded in front of him. Trunks flushed and walked in, Vegeta shut the door quietly and padded past his son to the living room. Trunks followed after slipping his boots off in the hall. He stood at the living room entryway, his mouth agape.
~"Do you like it?"~ Vegeta asked, his hand sweeping over the room. The room had been decorated, a huge tree dominated one corner of the room, and a huge fireplace occupied the opposite corner. There were garnishes and Christmas lights and there were three stockings pinned up beside the fireplace. Bing Crosby's 'Here Comes Santa Claus' jingled away merrily in the corner. Vegeta stood beside the tree, uncomfortably shifting form one foot to the other. ~"Well? How is it Trunks?"~ Trunks grinned.
~"I thought you didn't celebrate holidays Dad, This is a huge surprise!" He strode forward and hugged Vegeta, then turn to the tree. ~"Dad this is beautiful! Why did you do this?"~ Vegeta smiled behind his sons back. Trunks dropped to the floor examining the huge amount of brightly colored presents. Vegeta let out a laugh and joined him. ~" They're for you, and Bulma"~ He smiled cautiously and handed a red one to him. ~" Open yours, and we'll bring Bulmas to her..."~
* * *
Everyone keeps asking, what's it all about?
I used to be so certain and I can't figure out
What is this attraction? I only feel the pain
There's nothing left to reason and only you to blame
Will it ever change?
'Cause I am barely breathing,
And I can't find the air
I don't know who I'm kidding,
Imagining you care,
And I could stand here waiting
A fool for another day
But I don't suppose it's worth the price, worth the price that I would pay...
* * *
Bulma frowned, She could hear to men talking, but Yamcha wasn't supposed to be home for another two hours, and Trunks was, well, only god knew where Trunks was right now. She walked out of the kitchen, wiping her floury hands on her apron and stopped, her mouth open.
~"Vegeta? Trunks? When did you guys get here?"~ She brushed her hair back form her face, leaving a flour streak on her cheek. Vegeta stood up, ~// His hair has streaked gray//~ she noted, ~// It looks good on him... Handsome is the word I guess...//~
~"Mom, its Christmas Eve!"~ Trunks grinned, his eyes shining, ~" Dad brought presents for all of us-"~ He stopped, noticing the pained look on his fathers face ~"Dad? Dad what's wrong?"~
~"Just a migraine Trunks, take it easy."~ Vegeta popped his fingers, ~"Lets get down to Decorating this Christmas tree!"~ He grabbed a string of cranberries and stopped and Turned back to Trunks, ~" By the way, the blue hair looks good on you, Trunks..."~ He turned back to the tree.
* * *
I've come to find
I may never know
Your changing mind
Is it friend or foe?
I rise above
Or sink below
With every time
You come and go
Please don't, Come and go...
* * *
Trunks sat there, his eyes filmed over, and his toothless mouth opened in a secret smile. He ran his hand over his shiny, bald, head and he sighed. His wheelchair turned around and he wheeled himself to the table. His dinner sat there, cold and gray. But he what he saw was the meal he had eaten with his father that Christmas Eve, Turkey and stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, asparagus and hollandaise sauce, and warm golden rolls. He sat there, lost in reminiscence. The next day, his nephew found him in his bed, his eyes wide-open, and his toothless old mouth still wearing his secret grin.
His funeral was held two days later, and many people were there. But only a precious few saw one old man, middle aged some said, Who stood at the edge of the graveyard, head bowed, as tears ran off his cheeks onto the cold hard ground. When the service was over, and the casket laid to rest in the ground, the man ventured over, and gently let a photograph fall from his fingers onto the freshly turned earth...
~"Goodbye..."~, the old man turned and walked slowly away, his head tilted towards the sky.
~" How I wish I could join you, my dear son. But I made a wish before you were born, and it came true. This is the price that I must pay, for the terrible wish I made..."~ the man whispered to the wind as his eyes closed, and his head tilted back, letting his gray hair whip in the wind.
The photo blew from the grave, and stopped against a stone. In the picture, the man, a woman with blue hair, and a boy with vivid blue-black hair all stood, smiling as the snow fell around them. The window in the background revealed a tree, glittering and sparkling with artificial lights and tinsel.
Ironically, there was snow on the ground as the man took off. The picture, trapped against a stone, was slowly covered with the unforgiving crystals.
* * *
'Cause I am barely breathing,
And I can't find the air
I don't know who I'm kidding
Imagining you care
And I could stand here waiting
A fool for another day,
I don't suppose it's worth the price, worth the price
That I would pay...
* * *
Trunks Fans, I'm sorry...
~Lestat De Lioncourt~