A/N: Hey fanfiction readers! It has been a painfully long time since I have even touched this story. Honestly, I actually did rewrite the whole thing, well almost the whole thing, but I left it as a draft on my profile and it got deleted before I could upload it. I was super crushed and discouraged from writing this story, but I, inevitably, came around to making the changes that I wanted to. Please enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or any of its characters. I do, however, own the characters Efisio and Hottan, which are both of my own creation. This story is rated M for suggestive themes, language, and sexual content. It includes RAPE and CHILD ABUSE, so if you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read or leave flames here. Read at your own risk.

Good Doesn't Always Prevail

Chapter 1: Despair

My name is Pan Son. But I'm not quite sure if I am the same person I was before he showed up and ruined my already pathetic excuse for a life. I don't feel like training anymore because of how he overpowers me in every way possible. What's the point of trying to get stronger when you already know that you will never be stronger than the one you set out to defeat? He makes me feel so weak, and maybe I am. My Saiyan honor and joyful human soul was stripped away from me and replaced with nothing but a dark black hole of nothingness free of emotion and feeling. I walk around like a zombie, but I put on my usual smile for my friends and family. It's all an act. A disgusting perversion of what used to be Pan Son.

'So how did this happen?' you may ask. Well, you may want to sit down. This could take awhile.

It all started when my father—the great protector of the earth, Gohan—became very ill. The doctors had no idea what was wrong, so they threw out diagnosis after diagnosis, filling his veins with unneeded drugs. Being a Saiyan, getting sick probably never happens in the entirety of your life. They didn't find out until it was too late. The doctors declared that he had contracted the dreaded heart virus that my grandfather almost died of years before I was born.

Since we were out of the medication and none had been invented yet in this time period, I decided to look for the dragonballs so I could make a wish to save his life. When I went to his hospital room, weird looking machines and all, I was actually excited to see him. I told him my master plan and how happy I was; that is, until I heard his reply.

He told me that he didn't want me to save him and that it was his time to go right before he closed his eyes ever so slowly and the machines all let out a loud beeping noise.

The world crashed down on me at that very moment. Tears streaked my face as I sobbed uncontrollably, screaming profanities at him to wake up and to stop faking it, shaking him in a futile effort to wake him.

Even though I knew it was impossible, I was mad at him for not letting me save him and for leaving us like that. I could have saved him. I was beyond angry at him because he knew that he had the virus. He knew all along! He had to! And he left me to grieve forever and die?!

That's no hero to me. No. And from that day on, I hated the stubborn bastard. He left me when I needed him most. He left me to suffer.

A few months had passed and my mother forced me to move far away from all my friends and family. We moved all they way to Italy. On top of all of that, he waltzed into my life. The bastard that created this zombie that is pouring what is left of her emotions out for you. His name, I shall never say but once now, is Efisio. Soon after our departure I learned that my mother had been having an affair with him since my father fell ill. That bitch. Every night, I could hear them fucking like rabbits all night long. I never got much sleep. I would shove my face in my pillow to muffle my screams and sobs. I wanted out; I wanted them gone.

Out of the blue, he proposed. And she said yes. I walked around with a dumbfounded look on my face for a good week after that happened. Was she fucking serious? This had to be some sick joke they were pulling on me. This man could never, and would never, be my father.

They were married soon after.

That's when my life began plunging downward into the deep, dark abyss of depression and humiliation.

One Saturday morning my mother declared that she had to run off to work, something about "the goddamn IT department" yet again. So there I stayed, just me and the empty house; much to my dismay, the house wasn't empty. He was there. I decided to ignore him because if I didn't believe he was there, he wasn't. I sat in the corner of our large, L-shaped couch, curling myself into a ball while I listened to my Nirvana station on Pandora. I closed my eyes, trying to relax.

All of a sudden, I felt something grab my hair and rip me off the sofa. My eyes shot open and I reached behind me, trying to grasp the hand that was grasping my hair. I panicked and went to scream, but a hand was slapped onto my mouth, just in time to muffle the sound.

I grabbed the two hands confining me in a futile effort to rip them off. I tried to fight back, but I hadn't the strength. I haven't trained since my father passed; I starve myself; I rarely sleep. If only my father were here...

He held me up to his face and I stared into his dark brown eyes with my frantic ones.

I could have never guessed what happened next. He crashed his lips onto mine and forced his tongue into my mouth. I laid there, frozen in place; shocked.

He pulled off of me abruptly, letting go of me in the process. I fell limply into a sitting position, staring at him with wide eyes. He just stared right back, and we stayed like that for what seemed like forever before he cupped my face and kissed my forehead.

"I've been searching for you for my entire life," he breathed into the kiss.

He stood up and left. Just like that, like nothing ever happened.

Sitting on the cold floor, still in shock, I traced my lips with my fingers, reminiscing the feeling of his lips against mine. My face grew hot and I squeezed my eyes shut, grabbing fistfuls of my hair and curling into a fetal position. This wasn't happening, this can't be happening, it's not real, I kept telling myself over and over again. But it was real, and it did just happen. All I remember is a tightness in my chest and difficulty breathing before I welcomed the darkness with open arms.

I felt someone vigorously shaking me.

"Pan!" she screamed. That woke me up.

I woke with a start, literally jumping into the air and hitting my head against hers. We both pulled away with a loud OW! and clutching our bruising skulls.

"Are you alright?" she asked with a slight trace of concern in her voice.

"I'm fine, I just..." I began to answer, but stopped before I could finish. I remembered what had happened; he kissed me and I had another panic attack. Lovely.

"Honey, what's wrong?" my mother said, her bright blue eyes full of concern, searching for any signs of injury.

"I just had another panic attack." Before she could freak out, I added, "I've just been really stressed out about finals, mom. I'm fine, I swear."

"Well,"—she bit her lip nervously—"take it easy for a little while, okay? I'm sure you'll do great on your finals. You're an intelligent young woman, Pan." She smiled sweetly, the smile reaching her eyes, something I had not seen since... since before Gohan passed.

For the first time since his death, I actually smiled and hugged my mother. We hadn't showed any sort of affection toward each other in so long, and it felt so good. Maybe we could go back to the way we were before. Maybe...

A/N: So how do you like it? I decided to go in a completely different direction with this story than when I first wrote it, so yeah... If you like it please leave a review and maybe a favorite...? :D lol Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed it. Follow if you would like for me to write more so you could read more :) And btw, yes, yes I did just make Pan a Nirvana fan. ;p