A/N: This was going to be longer but then it would've been way too long. I'm starting to like this more. It's probably going to rather short, though. It's surprisingly easy to write Goku as a dark character and a bit more interesting than Vegeta, since we all know he's a dickbag.

Warnings: Implied non-con.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z or anything affiliated with it.

-MalRev

You pierce my soul.

I am Half Agony and half hope.

{ Chapter the Second }

My only solace was the ticking clock looming over our bed. The rest of the new house was dark and still like a corpse, slowly going cold as the witching hour fell over Mt. Paozu. The birds fell silent outside. Not even the crickets chirped as the two hands on the clock came together.

Time stood still. I was sitting up in bed pressed against the headboard, finally free of my wedding dress and wearing thick pajamas to bed. My nails had been gnawed to the quick during my long wait for Goku to return and I continually battled myself over whether or not I should just go home. Maybe he didn't want me but had no idea how to put it into words.

It was long, painful moments like those when I wished my mother was still alive to comfort me. I had grown up without her guidance. Papa let me do what I wanted to keep me happy and I developed into a wild child. I thought Goku understood that better than anyone.

Goku was strange but he was still a human being.

The door burst open downstairs, colliding with the wall so hard I could hear the wall crack from the pressure. I quickly moved to get up out bed in hopes that I could talk to my husband a bit more. I'd sorted everything out now. If he wasn't feeling well we could go to bed and I would make him something to help his stomach relax. Mom's cookbooks were already in the kitchen.

My feet had scarcely touched the cold hardwood floor when the bedroom door flew open and Goku stumbled inside, leaning on the frame for support. His shoulders were heaving and sweat was pouring down his chest like he had just gotten into some kind of fight.

But in spite of his lacerations and general malaise, I felt no urge to get out of bed and help him. His black eyes wandered dolefully across the room like he was half-asleep, prompting me to crawl back into bed and pull the covers up to my neck. I'd never noticed how tall he was.

Goku wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and slumped toward the floor. I stared at him like a deer in headlights, waiting for whatever punishment would come.

"Chi-Chi?" he mumbled, squinting at me through the darkness. "Chi, please help. I… I feel so weird… so sick…" He clutched his head and I could have sworn I heard him growl. "Please help me. I ran around and punched stuff for a while but… nothing helps. Please make it go away."

After raising two beautiful sons I grew to realize that no eighteen year old was prepared for marriage. There was too strong of a commitment for such young people and it was very easy to crack and splinter under the pressure. I slid further under my covers and tears slid down my cheeks. All I wanted was my papa to come save me. I didn't know why I had even married Goku.

How was I supposed to take care of another person? The thought of having children suddenly felt terrifying. Would Goku be mean to them? Was he mean all the time? No, he just had to be tired from the wedding. He didn't like going to parties. He'd rather do something quieter.

My husband teetered toward me like he was drunk. He covered his face with his hands and shook his head while I prayed I could disappear into the bed sheets. His skin was flushed pink—he really had been exercising hard, probably trying to blow off steam, and made himself sick in the process.

When Goku finally collapsed beside me my body went ramrod straight. Heat emanated from him, solidifying my fear that he was much sicker than I imagined. What was I supposed to do?! He weighed a ton and the nearest hospital was at least an hour away. I never thought of those kinds of things before: what we would do when illness struck or one of us hurt ourselves.

Those were adult problems. Papa usually solved them for me. We had a personal doctor to tend to us and I wasn't expected to do much around the house. I was always free to fight or adventure where I wanted to. Responsibility had never weighed heavily upon my shoulders.

Still, there I was, an eighteen year old girl lying in paralyzed fear beside her delirious new husband who was near tears from the agony he was in. He'd suffered a gaping hole in his chest so his pain brought fresh fear. What could bring Son Goku so close to sobbing?

The phone started ringing across the room and I leapt at the chance to get it. Before I could get up one of Goku's big hands grabbed my wrists and firmly pushed down, keeping me attached to the bed. He slowly pushed himself on his side so I could see his tear-streaked face illuminated by the moon. Gently, he tugged on my wrist, willing me to come closer; begging to be taken care of.

My husband would never cry again, not even when our son died. I thought I accidentally taught him that tears were scary things to avoid but he never seemed to mind my sobbing.

My hand trembled as I reached out toward his forehead, slick with a layer of sweat. His exhausted black eyes closed when my skin touched his and I quickly drew my wrist back, stunned by the temperature of his head. He was literally boiling up—I wouldn't have been surprised if his organs disintegrated.

"What's wrong with me?" Goku asked. The sound of his voice broke my heart.

It was not how I planned our wedding night. I wished it was all a bad dream.

I glanced down to see the sheets were becoming drenched with sweat and an idea struck me. Papa always gave me tons of water when I was sick so Goku probably needed the same thing. There was a lake not too far away where he could wash off the sweat and have something clean to drink.

The hand holding mine down suddenly snapped back to his chest, curling in a ball over his heart. He grimaced, reduced to whimpering from the severity of his pain. I hated it. I hated watching him in so much agony while I could only sit and watch. I carefully got out of bed, aware of the phone still ringing off the hook and the eerie way it echoed through the house.

Confused ebony eyes followed me to the closet. I took out as many of Goku's training shirts as I could, intending on using them to dry him off after we were done, and bundled myself up in a sweater to keep warm in the cool night. Goku propped himself up on an elbow and collapsed promptly, twisting in bed.

"Okay," I said, running a hand through my hair, "okay. Um… okay. Can you walk? I want to bring you to the lake up the hill. It isn't very far so you should be able to make it."

Goku nodded, tears budding at the corners of his eyes. He managed to get out of bed and swayed on his feet until I caught him and nearly collapsed under his weight. We somehow got downstairs and out of the house into the breezy front yard that was just in front of the forest. The moon was full. I'd never imagined something to beautiful could bring so much heartache.

Those were the times that solidified my relationship with Goku. It was those two years before Gohan came into the world, where my husband and I were put through the hardest trials of our marriage. I liked to think it was those experiences that made being without him just a bit easier. Sometimes I pretended his feverish body was beside mine but I never cried. He didn't like tears.

We made our way through the forest to the calm lake where a herd of deer were having a drink. They became utterly still as we approached and their ears swiveled around to gauge whether or not it was a good idea to run. Goku fully collapsed a few feet before the lake on all fours and I had to pull him the rest of the way, which was no easy feat in spite of my rigorous training.

The shoreline was shallow enough for me to prop him up without worrying about accidentally drowning him. He slumped forward, shoulders heaving from the force of his breathing, and I quickly pushed him back. His shirt had soaked through but I hesitated in taking it off. It felt like I was violating him.

But push came to shove when Goku's breathing violently transformed into coughing. I dampened my hands with water to give him some relief and slid my palms up his ribs to peel the training shirt off, trying to be perfectly professional and polite during the process. He was sick. I didn't want to be ogling his half-naked body when he could hardly breathe.

It was the worst fear I had ever felt, sitting helpless in a lake watching Goku dying before my eyes. He was always so sweet and gentle so I never thought anything bad would happen to him. I gnawed my nails for a few moments before deciding to lay him down in the water, which he didn't seem to mind. But when I moved to sit beside him he grabbed my wrist again to pull himself toward me and before I knew it, Goku's head was in my lap.

I probably turned fifteen shades of red. He groaned again and I sprang into action without thinking, cupping water in my hands to drizzle through his thick hair. Thankfully, it seemed to be helping. His breathing slowed down somewhat and he moved his arms from his stomach to scratch at the pebbly shoreline, beginning to show signs of life and recovery.

"We can call a doctor tomorrow," I said. "I'm sorry that I panicked."

Goku was quiet for a while. My heart twisted painfully as I realized he was angry with my inability to perform under pressure and I relegated myself to cleaning him with the lake water.

"It won't go away."

I glanced up. "What won't? Do you still feel sick?"

He tilted his head back to look up at me and I was met with a frighteningly sight. Red was seeping into the whites of Goku's eyes like a creeping poison. His head tilted slightly and he smiled.

"I've been through worse. You saw just a few weeks ago when Piccolo left me uh… a little empty in the middle. But I guess this is a different kind of being sick."

"You'll be okay." I tried to be reassuring but it was extremely difficult.

Goku suddenly sat up, sitting cross-legged in front of me. He draped his hands in his lap and leaned toward me until I began to pull back instinctively. The red was spreading further. I could have sworn I felt the moon burning on my back.

"I don't like to hurt people," he said. His head tilted the other way. "I mean, I like to fight, but I don't want to really hurt anybody. That's mean. But… D'you think it's okay to want to hurt sometimes? To do whatever pops into your head and worry about it later?"

"You already do that. I haven't seen you think through many of your plans."

"Yeah, I guess you're right, Chi." Goku scratched his head, smiling faintly. He was still staring dead into my eyes. "But this feels like a really bad burn in my heart. I tried to ignore it but I won't go away."

Curious minnows swam up to nibble at our toes. The water wasn't very cold thanks to the heat radiating from Goku. I stared back into his reddening eyes and wondered what exactly I had gotten myself into. This was not the man I had rescued my mother's wedding dress with. He was tormented.

I shrugged, wrapping my arms around myself. "We can ask the doctor tomorrow. Do you want to try heading back to the house? Sleep is probably the best—"

There was a loud splash as Goku suddenly pushed me down on my back, fully drenching my thick sweater in water. He was between my legs, gently holding my face while I shifted on the pebbles, flustered by his strange behavior and the cold water gnawing at my bones. He scrutinized my face for a few moments and I once again became completely still. His broad shoulders blocked out the moon.

A small, disarming smile touched his mouth. "I don't want to sleep. I never sleep when there's a full moon."

Then his mouth crushed mine in a bruising kiss and one thing began to rapidly lead to another. His eyes became such a vibrant red that they seemed to glow in the pitch blackness. The only sound was the wind whistling through the autumn leaves and the shifting of our bodies in the water. I clung to him when tears stung my eyes, burying my face in his neck to remain as quiet as possible.

Goku growled on top of me, pinning my wrists to the rough pebbles so I was forced to look at him. I was squirming in pain. He didn't bother taking my clothes off. It wasn't what I played over and over again in my head. I'd imagined being unwrapped like a present and having to keep him from running away in terror. He never understood those types of things. Bulma always complained about how he would unwittingly violate people's personal space.

There was desperation in his movements. Clothing was moved just out of the way; just enough that our bodies could fit together. Back then Goku wasn't as muscular. It became worse the more he trained. His strength became a double-edged sword that I routinely cursed. Why me? Why us?

My body arched from the fresh, searing pain between my legs. He held my wrists down fast as I twisted them in his grasp and began to whimper. I'd hoped he would understand and comfort me like any normal man but a low warning growl reverberated in his chest. My lower lip quivered when I tried to stay silent. It hurt. Why didn't he care?

By the end, I was too tired to bother with crying. I shivered when Goku pulled away, smiling so brightly it nearly blinded me. He lifted me out of the water to set me on the grass and I lay down as pain began to throb in different areas, a reminder of what had just happened. My husband stripped out of his clothes to change into the ones I had brought before walking over to stand over me.

Goku put his hands on his hips. "What're you still doing down there? Don't you want to go home and go to bed? Gosh, I know I feel a lot better now." He tangled his fingers in his hair, laughing.

It took a long time for the ice in my veins to develop. I'd started out wanting nothing more than to make Goku happy but it was things like his blatant disregard for my feelings that drove me to become the frigid Son Chi-Chi everyone became familiar with. They rolled their eyes when I screamed and muttered amongst themselves, calling me various names. None of them had to live with him.

His words cut me like a knife. I had waited my entire life for him and he threw away our first time together like it was nothing. He had become something else; something I really hated to see. I didn't have a name for the darkness swirling in Goku until the Saiyans arrived years later. I was lost and betrayed by the one person I believed I could trust.

I just wanted to stop walking the damn tightrope. With Goku, it was a constant battle.

My body trembled with rage and cold as I pushed myself up. I leaned over, dripping lake water on the palms of my quivering hands. "I can't walk."

It was true. Everything burned to some degree.

Goku cocked his head. "Why not? You walked me all the way up here."

In an instant I was on my feet in his face, no longer restraining the anger boiling through me. I slapped Goku across the face hard enough to turn his head and he clutched the spot, gawking at me in shock. A bright red welt appeared and I couldn't help but notice his eyes returned to normal.

"You ruined everything!" I wailed. "Why do you have to be such a jerk, Goku?! You weren't even nice to me during it even though it hurt so much and I didn't want to in the middle of the woods." I stomped forward and he back up, eyes wide with terror. "Why don't you ever think of anyone except yourself? Don't you understand basic human emotion? Do you have an empathy? Now everything is ruined because all you care about is whatever stupid thought pops into your head!"

Part of it was because he let me scream. I figured I grew to enjoy watching a man twice my size cowering in fear in front of me, seriously concerned about being slapped. Goku did just that: he shrank back and nodded in agreement with my unbridled fury.

"I'm… I-I'm s-so-sorry," he stammered, protecting his face.

"That doesn't change anything! I hate you!" I picked up a rock and threw it at his arm, ready to explode. "Go away and never come back. I don't want to see you again."

Goku dropped his hands defensively, palms facing upwards. "Please, Chi-Chi, I… I couldn't help it. Sometimes I just can't control myself no matter how hard I try and—where are you going?!"

I was already walking back down the mountain, shivering miserably from the cold and about to burst into tears. He immediately followed after me and reached out to grab my arm which resulted in another swift slap across the face. But he followed anyhow, pleading and begging while I repeatedly told him to leave me alone. I'd never been so furious in my life and I doubted I would be again.

Back at the house I tried to shut the door in Goku's face but he shoved it open and followed me inside. I threw whatever I could find at his head while he gritted his teeth to keep from crying. He never yelled. It was only me and boy, could I scream.

But when I rushed up to stairs to get the phone and call Bulma he was right behind me, ignoring my shrieks to rip it out of my hand and put it back in the cradle. I smacked him over and over again but he was too beside himself with confusion to worry about it. He pushed me backwards until we both toppled over on the bed, once again trapping me underneath his incredible weight.

"Get off me!" I screamed. "I'm telling my papa and he's gonna kill you!"

"No, no, no, I didn't mean it! It was burning so bad and I felt so sick. B-but let me m-m-make it up to you. We can do it here a-and I'll be r-really nice." His eyes were wild; bewildered with the ferocity of my emotion. He wanted to fix it like always.

I shoved against his shoulders. Our fight in the tournament hadn't been very long for a reason. Goku was much stronger than me, though he hid it well. All of my training had been in vain.

Goku twisted his neck. "Please stop yelling. It makes me burn more."

What we perceive can break so easily. What we want isn't always what we get. What we feel isn't always reciprocated. What we see isn't always what is truly there.