Disclaimer: Nothing to say that hasn't been said before. Except maybe "FREEP!"

A/N: They start getting their characters back here. Oh yea, and in case there was any confusion in the last chapter (*ahem* jess…lol) The thing with Vegeta in the bathroom was going on at the same exact time as Goku in the schoolyard (I have no idea why Vegeta didn't hear the gunshots…guess he must've been too into his grief to notice…or something) So it's not like he stood there for 30-some-odd minutes holding the gun to his head.

There might be some more confusion in this chapter, but bear with me here… That being said, go! Read! Now! Yes!

Note:

~ Flashback ~





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Vegeta whirled around in surprise when the door swung open, the gun nearly dropping from his hand. A tall guy with wild hair stumbled in, clutching a duffel bag to his chest, a pair of black sunglasses askew on his face. Suddenly he realized that he was not alone and looked toward the sinks.

Their eyes met and they both froze, neither one knowing what to do. The shades slowly slipped off of Goku's face and clattered loudly on the tile floor, but he made no move to retrieve it. Vegeta stayed just as still, the gun remaining firmly by his head.

Finally the awkward silence got the better of the older man and he said the first thing he could think of. He slowly released one arm from clutching the bag and tentatively lifted it, making a half-hearted wave.

"…Hi."

His greeting snapped Vegeta out of his stupor, and the sullen boy immediately turned around to face the mirror.

"Get out," he ordered, his voice low and nearly a snarl.

Goku shifted uncomfortably and averted his gaze to the dirty floor.

"I can't."

His eyes narrowed; he had not expected any resistance from the intruder.

"For the love of . . . WHY NOT?!"

When there was no answer he lowered his arm and rested his hand on the edge of the sink, contemplating the situation. Yet another awkward silence descended upon them, but this time it was Vegeta who spoke first.

"Fine," he said icily, calmly lifting the gun up to his head once more. "Go into one of the stalls or something. This isn't going to be pretty, and I don't want you vomiting over my carcass."

The spiky-haired man still stood immobile, but this time he lifted his eyes to lie upon the slightly hunched figure in front of him.

Suddenly the image before him caused Goku to become overwhelmed with flashes of memory, rushing at him like a tidal wave threatening to swallow him up whole.

~ A young boy with a wide grin, looking up from his books ~

~ "Goku, you're not supposed to wash your reds with your whites!"

"Why not?"

" Well for one thing you've got pink underwear now…" ~

~ The same boy coming home from school with his clothes torn and bloody ~

~ Muffled sobs in the middle of the night ~

~ "DON'T DO IT!" ~

~ The gunshot ~

~ A body hits the ground ~

~ The funeral; a crowd of faceless sympathizers ~

~ "It's not your fault . . . ~

~ * No! They don't understand * ~

~ "Don't blame yourself" ~

~ * I was too late! * ~

~ "No one could have stopped him . . . " ~

~ * I might have! I might have, but I didn't . . . I wasn't there for him when he needed me. I killed him * ~

His body became petrified, and his shallow breathing was the only sign that he was alive.

Vegeta was uneasily aware of the intense gaze directed at him, and he finally turned around once more and snapped, "Are you stupid or something?! Stop looking at me!"

Silence.

With tremendous effort he pulled himself out of the painful flashback and willed himself to concentrate on the present. On the boy with the gun to his head.

* Don't . . . * he thought desperately, but his mouth clamped shut, unwilling to open and voice his plea.

Goku's refusal to reply angered Vegeta further, causing him to grip the gun so hard that his knuckles turned white.

"What kind of sick bastard are you, anyway?"

* Please, don't . . . *

"Do you WANT to see my brains splattered on the wall?"

* No . . . don't . . . please . . . *

"ANSWER ME, DAMNIT!" he screamed, losing any pretense of calmness that he had once had.

"please, don't . . ." Goku managed to croak out at last.

Slowly the weapon was lowered as the teenager stared at him with a mixture of astonishment and rage.

"You . . ." he spat out, as if the word left a disgusting taste in his mouth. "Barge in here when I'm about to blow my head in . . . REFUSE to leave . . . and now you, a complete stranger, have the audacity to tell me to 'please, don't? Who the fuck do you think you are? Huh?! Pretending that you know me enough to assume that it would be a BAD thing if I died!"

"I, I didn't mean . . ."

"I don't give a rat's ass about what you did or didn't mean to do! Just get the hell out of my sight!"

His outburst sent small tremors through his body, and he couldn't stop his hand from trembling. The cold metal shook slightly, its surface glinting from the fluorescent lights above. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to calm down. There was the sound of a zipper and some fabric rustling, but he blocked that out of his mind as he focused on getting in control of himself again.

Click.

Vegeta's eyes flew open at the familiar sound, and he found him face to face with a different firearm. Goku pointed the weapon at him, a look of grim determination on his face.

"Don't shoot or I'll . . ."













" . . . shoot?" One dark eyebrow arched delicately at the ridiculous threat.

He paused, realizing the sheer absurdity of his ultimatum. There was another click, and a sigh as he lowered the gun in defeat. Suddenly the tension that had been building up between them eased up the tiniest bit, allowing both of them to breath a little easier.

"Idiot," the surly boy muttered, but with less venom than before.

He lowered his own arm, and rested his hand once more on the sink. After a moment of hesitation, he let go of the gun completely.