My One True Hell

Disclaimer: Don't own DB/Z/GT

Warning: Very dark fic. Gohan is extremely out of character.

Chapter 1: The End

May 26th, Age 767

Gohan could remember the exact day when everything started going wrong.

It was now May 17th, Age 771. The fourth anniversary of the worst day of his life was fast approaching, but there was another day coming that he certainly didn't want to happen. He was turning fifteen tomorrow. But all he could do right now was stare at the open books laid out in front of him on his desk, pretending to look busy as he had been doing since that fateful day.

Gohan looked the same, yet so different to how he did back then. He'd grown out his hair again, having taken to tying it back and letting it hang over his right shoulder. He was taller and had matured to a point where he looked older than he actually was. His eyes most definitely looked like they were beyond his years - empty, with dark circles under them.

The sound of tiny footsteps on the wooden floor of his bedroom brought him out of his trance; Gohan covered his ears to try and block out his four year old sibling's endless babbling as he held up his building blocks. His mother was no different; bellowing like a child to make him study.

"Not now, Goten ... " he mumbled. Goten dropped onto the floor throwing a tantrum as most toddlers would if they were refused attention. Chi-Chi suddenly walked in through the front door.

"What's wrong, baby?" she cooed, picking up her youngest. Gohan continued to restlessly tap at his wrist with the compass he was meant to be using for his geometry. "Alright, kiddo, I've got you some of your favourite snacks for while you study!"

"Thanks," replied the half saiyan, somewhat angrily. He hated being called that, he wasn't a child, he never had the chance to be a kid. Chi-Chi wasn't surprised at this.

A couple of months ago Gohan was diagnosed with depression. He was put on some pills and had therapy, but whenever it came round to that time, he'd fly off. The pills were also redundant as he flushed them down the toilet. Chi Chi was trying her best to carry on as normal; before the diagnosis, she'd found drugs in his room. When she went to confront him, she walked in on him cutting himself.

"I'm going make you a nice birthday cake tomorrow!" she said in a cheery voice. Gohan said nothing in return, not even looking at her.

Chi-Chi sighed in defeat; she knew Gohan wasn't really in the right mood for a party, but it's not everyday your son turns fifteen. Gohan continued to ignore the work laid out in front of him in neat piles and concentrated on where his compass was going. He heard his mother humming in the kitchen downstairs and the sound of Goten's annoying cries for attention coming from his bedroom. He hated his bedtimes.

"Fuck this ... " Gohan mumbled bitterly. Now that Chi Chi's attention was elsewhere, he got up from his dusty old wooden chair, sending his text books to the floor at the same time.

He took the compass with him, feeling more restless by the second. He sat on his bed with his legs crossed, leaning on his knees with his elbows. He stopped for a second to make sure that nobody was near his door, feeling himself start to shake. He thought he was going to cry, but he refused to. Gohan hadn't cried since he lost his father - or rather, when his father left him.

Whereas the rest of the gang understood Goku's decision to stay dead, Gohan took it badly, outwardly pretending to his friends that he was just as optimistic as they were about it. As soon as he told his mother and saw Trunks off when he went back to his timeline, he became quiet and withdrawn, not interested in anything. Chi Chi's father died of a heart attack soon after, and was in a similar state, crying herself to sleep at night for the next few weeks - until she discovered that she was pregnant.

Chi Chi was ecstatic, it was like Goku had left her with the most precious gift in the universe, she soon began to move on with her life. Gohan tried to be happy for her as best he could, he did well to hide his true feelings, help around the house with the baby and continue his studies to get into a good school... it was just the three of them in their little house out in the mountains.

Despite being so far out in the open, Gohan felt claustrophobic, going out most nights into the city where he wandered the streets, developing a habit of stealing petty objects from stores and getting away with it thanks to his speed. Petty objects soon turned to alcohol, and then drugs. Yet none of these things filled the gaping hole in his chest. At first his mother thought that he was just acting like a normal, moody teenage boy, but as soon as she discovered his habits, she took him straight to see a professional.

Gohan rolled up his left sleeve, revealing his scarred wrist. He was feeling more and more anxious by the second - it was like he had an addiction to it. Whenever he felt a panic attack coming on, this was the only way he could deal with it, despite having suffered from them in secret since he was four. His encounter with Raditz, his father's first death, and Piccolo's kidnapping of him saw to that. His training with Piccolo only taught him to hide his deepest fears so that any future opponents couldn't use them against him.

The closeness he had to Piccolo had dissipated over time since he mostly wanted to be alone; because Piccolo now lived on the lookout, he wasn't as close by as he used to be - Gohan hadn't seen or heard from him in over a year now. Not since he began sneaking out at night and running riot. Piccolo had confronted him once, but Gohan promptly told him to stay away from him. He was sure that he was watching over him ever since, but right now, he couldn't care less about anybody else.

Gohan tried to slow his breathing enough to gain a steady hand. He'd never used a compass to do this before, but he ran out of razors, not being able to get away long enough to get some more, thanks to Goten's tendency to walk into his room without knocking. He placed the sharp tip onto his skin, adding some pressure, then dragged it over his wrist. He inhaled sharply at the sensation. It hurt, but in a good way. He felt his anxiety melting away as relief made it's way through his body, a thin stream of blood leaking from the cut.

"Shit... " he gasped, snapping out of his high as the blood dripped off his wrist and onto his fresh bed covers. He quickly wiped the compass clean on his jeans, placing it on the bedside table before licking the blood up with his tongue and attempting to stop the flow by putting his mouth over it. Before he could stand up, he heard his alarm clock make a clicking sound behind him. He turned around, removing his wrist from his mouth to see that it was midnight.

Happy fucking birthday, Gohan...

Gohan woke up on top of his bed at 7.00am that morning. Seven hours of sleep was a pretty good night's sleep for him nowadays, he didn't remember dreaming. He was still in last night's clothes. He went to check on his wrist, not recalling exactly when he fell asleep - his sleeve was glued to his skin with dry blood, but luckily, none of it went on the bed sheets.

"Gohan! Breakfast!"

Gohan peeled himself from his bed and got dressed before heading downstairs. He sat down at the table resting his head in his hand, slowly moving his eyes over to Goten who was painting the table with his porridge. He snapped out of it as soon as Chi-Chi sat down, placing his breakfast in front of him.

"I can't believe my little boy is fifteen years old!" she chirped.

"Mhmm ... " muttered Gohan, snapping out of his daydream. He'd completely forgotten what day it was. Chi Chi finally gave up.

"Gohan, I don't know what to say to you!"

"I'm not hungry," he said as he got up from his chair. All he wanted was to be alone, the last thing he wanted was a huge fuss over nothing... because that was what he genuinely believed he was, whether it was the depression talking or not he didn't know, neither did he care enough to find out.

"Gohan!"

"What?! Why can't you just leave me alone!?" he cried. That was the first time he'd raised his voice in weeks.

"Gohan, calm down! Look, I think we should take you back to the doctor tomorrow. Your pills clearly aren't working." Gohan let out a hysterical laugh. She clearly hadn't accepted that he just couldn't bring himself out of it. He watched his mother flick through her address book for a phone number.

"I don't take the pills, mom. I never have," he confessed blankly.

"What?! How are you supposed to get better if you don't do as the doctor says?!" she exclaimed, slamming the book down.

"I feel numb enough without having to take those stupid things! You don't get it!"

"You can't just pretend that it'll all go away. You've missed so much school already because of all this."

"It's an illness, it's not exactly something I can help," he said as calmly as he could. He stood up out of his chair as panic began rising in his chest again. He needed to cut again. He did it everyday at least once. He bang pulling at his hair, scratching at his collar bone to try and keep himself on the ground.

"I'm trying! But you're going to have to meet me in the middle, here!"

"I can't... " he answered quietly, tremors appearing in his hands.

"If you're not going to do it for me or yourself, think about Goten. Do for your father, even."

"Dad isn't here anymore!" he shouted, feeling strangely better as he got some of his frustration out in the open. He rarely lost his temper these days - not since the devastating consequences that had during the Cell Games.

"Gohan, he would want you to get better and just be - " Chi Chi stopped herself as she realised what she was about to say, but Gohan had caught on to her.

"Normal?"

"Well... yes," she admitted. It was then that Gohan finally snapped. He finally let her know how he really felt.

"The closest I ever feel to being normal is when I cut myself." Gohan felt oddly satisfied when Chi Chi was finally lost for words.

"Go to your room, Gohan."

The boy did so, slamming the door behind him. Chi-Chi continued to stare ahead, not realising that Goten had followed his distressed older sibling upstairs. Gohan looked out the window, holding back the tears that he'd been holding back since his father had died. He rolled his eyes as he heard small feet stomp into his room.

"What, Goten?"

"Stop shouting at mommy!" he said angrily. The three year old was obviously distressed, but in his innocent perception of the situation led him to believe that Gohan was being nasty to his mother, he was only a toddler after all, but Gohan glared at him with a fierce look in his eyes.

"Get ... out ... " he said through his teeth, trying his best to keep hold of his self control for the next ten seconds. Goten shrunk away in fear and toddled back out to his Chi Chi, who was still sat in the kitchen.

Now Gohan was sure he wanted it all to end. There and then. He couldn't take it anymore.

Gohan slammed the door shut, earning a disapproving yell from his mother. As he didn't want to be interrupted, he barricaded himself in with his desk chair before sitting on his bed. He'd never felt more ready for it all this pain to end, he just wanted to sleep peacefully forever.

Chi Chi didn't see him when he left the kitchen, but he managed to slip a kitchen knife into his sleeve that was on the dinner table. Gohan wasted no time as he cut deeply into both of his wrists until they were bleeding profusely; the pain made him feel some sort of relief, but it also made him feel nauseous - he'd never cut this deep before, always careful and resourceful in the past. He steadily grew dizzy and cold and found himself swaying slightly; instead of falling back onto his bed like he'd hoped, he collapsed forwards onto the floor.

Gohan landed at a rather awkward angle, hitting the floor head first; it knocked him out instantly, but his neck took the rest of his weight, breaking it instantly. It wasn't exactly the way he planned to go, but at least it was quick.

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