A/N: I missed you all so, so much. I have great ideas for this story. We're getting there. Please tell me what you think.

*Chapter Three: Mark My Words*

Goku rubbed his eyes, feeling the exhaustion of a two-hour sleep wave over him. He felt a twitch in the palm of his right hand, the kind he always felt after a long day. And he had had so many of those days that he often felt a void when the twitch disappeared, as if it was meant to be a constant companion. Though that rarely ever happened. Most of the days that came were long, at least to him.

The feet planted on his lap let out a spasm and Goku's gaze followed the legs up to the body they were attached to, before frowning at the agonized face of the old man lying down on the couch. The man's eyes were closed but it wasn't due to a peaceful slumber; the pain of his cancer would be far too intensive to allow him to relax. And the corner of his eye was shuddering; a sign of a nightmare. Probably the same nightmare that haunted the both of them.

"Gohan," Goku muttered, gently shaking the man's shoulders. "Gohan, Gohan, wake up."

He forwent the 'Grandpa' that used to come prior to 'Gohan', solely because of the man's insistence on it, saying that the pronoun made him feel old, and even closer to his death bed. Goku didn't appreciate the change because it made him feel even further disconnected to the man, but he complied anyways. He wasn't the one dying.

Gohan awakened with a jolt, his eyes fluttering wildly. "Goku?" He breathed out shakily.

The boy in question grabbed his shoulders to steady him. "You're okay, dude. You're okay. Just some nightmares again."

Gohan, now sitting up, leaned against the boy, trying to catch his breath. "Nightmares…just nightmares….what were they about this time?"

"You tell me, old man." Goku replied.

Gohan took a moment to steady himself, before huffing. "I ain't old, Goku. Don't go calling me that now."

He laughed. "Your mind's too far gone for you to remember even your own dreams. I'd say that's pretty damn old."

Gohan punched Goku in the side, a weak attempt at hurting the boy. "I still wake up every morning with enough wood to rival a forest; now I'dsay that's pretty youthful, no?"

"That is so fucked up," Goku responded, laughing. "What a fucked up thing to tell your grandson."

Gohan let out a scratchy chuckle, feeling an ache in his side as he did so. At his small yelp of pain, Goku immediately got up, grabbed his medication, and brought it over to the man alongside a cup of water.

Gohan reluctantly grabbed the meds. "Fucking irony, man. Cancer was my father's poison. It wasn't supposed to be mine."

"I don't think any of this was supposed to be ours." Goku muttered quietly, rubbing his eyes.

"Yeah? Then why is it?" He replied, swallowing and washing down the pills with water.

"Because we made them be. I made them be. I don't, I don't know."

Gohan sighed, feeling so tired at this same conversation, over and over again. "It's not your fault, Goku. None of it was your fault."

"I'm his son!" He snapped, suddenly feeling on edge. "It was, I was stupid, just like him. And he should've never existed but he fucked us over even ten years after I last saw him and I was so, so stupid for thinking it was going to be okay."

Gohan went silent. He studied the boy now seated next to him, and he took notice of the tired blinking of his eyes, and the wrinkles that were already beginning to form on his otherwise youthful face. He was young, too young for such pain. And they both knew that the pain wasn't about to end, but only increase. And perhaps that was the most ironic thing of all; that the only thing in their deteriorating, uncertain lives that they were sure about was that everything was about to change. They were sure of this the moment Gohan first coughed up blood all those months ago. It was only a matter of when.

"There were warning signs." Goku murmured quietly. "And there were so many. I should've known. And there's just so much anger now but it was my own fault, because I was too late."

Gohan didn't reply to his words, partly because he couldn't conjure up a sentence worth saying against that, but mostly because he felt heavy, and for once in a long time it wasn't because of the cancer that was weighing him down, but because of the sight of this sad, sad boy situated next to him; a boy that he didn't recognize, and hadn't for a long time. Goku was gone. Gohan didn't know who this person seated next to him was. The person dressed like Goku, and every once in a while, on a warm Friday night when Gohan's illness wasn't being particularly awful and Goku was on break from school, the boy would sound the same as the Goku he used to know, but those days hadn't happened in a long time, and Gohan wasn't holding his breath for any more.

Gohan reached out and grabbed Goku's shoulder, squeezing it tight. "Maybe you should go to sleep now, son. You've been up all night helping me, it's time you get some rest."

Goku shook his head. "Wouldn't have slept much anyways."

He parked his car in the usual spot, cringing at the screech his '97 Chrysler let out as he pulled the brake on. He turned the ignition off, and rested his hand against the steering wheel, closing his eyes.

He was already two hours late, but he couldn't find even the slightest bit of energy to push himself out of the vehicle. He didn't want to be here. Fucking, fucking hell he didn't want to be here. But then the question came of where he would want to be instead, and he felt a sigh exit his throat as he couldn't find an answer. There wasn't anywhere, any place in the world that he wanted to be at.

He peered out the window, and saw a hunched over frame in the corner of the parking lot. Even from here he could smell the marijuana the person was lighting up.

"Ah, fuck it." Goku muttered to himself as he stepped out the car, with every intention to get as high as possible before he had to force himself into hell.

As he neared the person, he observed the hunched over body, and was unable to recognize the boy. He had short spiky hair, and was wearing a thick leather jacket that seemed inappropriate for the humid, spring air of Vancouver. The boy seemed vaguely familiar but Goku couldn't quite place a name on him. He never really paid much attention to the little fucks at school anyways.

"Hey, man." Goku said as he stepped closer.

The boy didn't look up, still keeping his back to Goku. He took another toke from the joint.

"I've never seen you around before." Goku said, stopping a few feet away from him.

The boy took the cigarette out of his mouth and spat at the ground, before putting the pot back between his lips and taking a toke.

"Mind if I have a smoke?" Goku asked.

The boy huffed. "Fuck off." He mumbled quietly, the joint hanging between his lips.

"What did you say?"

The boy took the joint out of his mouth, and said, "Fuck. Off."

Goku let out a scoff. "Who the fuck even are you, man?"

He rolled his eyes and threw the joint to the ground, stepping on it to kill the smoke. Without responding he pushed past Goku, sticking his hands in his pockets and keeping his head down.

Goku tried to keep it at bay, the irritation he felt bubbling inside of his stomach. It was the same feeling that had fucked him over so many times before, that had caused him to say or do things that got him deeply into trouble, but the emotion was so powerful that Goku felt useless in fighting it. Reaching out, he grabbed the boy's shoulder in an attempt to turn him around. "I'm fucking talking to you, man."

The boy shoved off Goku's touch and kept moving forward without a response. Goku ran his hands through his hair, now intensely aggravated. Letting out a huff he walked after the boy and grabbed his shoulder again. This time, the boy didn't wait for Goku to speak first.

"Don't fucking touch me." He grunted out without turning around.

"Listen here, buddy, I'm just wondering who the fuck you think you are, coming into this school and acting like –"

In a single motion he whipped around, throwing a fist towards Goku's unsuspecting head. The years and years of fights and aggravation, however, had given Goku faster battling reflexes than most, and in a similar clean motion he ducked out of the way, kneeling over to avoid the punch. Though the hit hadn't occurred, however, the effect on his already-peeved mind was imminent.

Angry, Goku got back up and grabbed his shirt to lift him up and smash him against the nearest wall. The boy let out a groan at the sudden contact. "Listen here you cunt, I'm going to make you regret ever trying any shit like that, you fucking hear me –"

The boy turned his pained face to stare Goku directly in the eyes, and almost immediately Goku's words were stopped midsentence as his gaze scanned over the boy's face. His hands suddenly weaker, he let go of the boy, who fell to the ground but picked himself up right away.

"Jesus Christ," Goku mumbled to himself, backing away slowly. "You….you're,"

"If you ever fucking touch me again," The boy said, poison overtaking his voice. He was staring back at Goku now, his dark, dark eyes boring holes into Goku's brown ones. His fists were balled up at his sides, and he tried to push the anger away, to contain it and save it for another time as he always had. "I will make you so, so sorry. Do you fucking hear me?"

Goku's voice was caught in his throat as he looked away. The boy's stare was too threatening. It was like his eyes were filled with….nothing. Cold. Empty. But his face... that mark. Before he could even respond, the boy walked away, each step a monstrous sound. As Goku looked back up, back at this monster, the one he had heard so much about but didn't even think truly existed, the boy was gone. Goku's overload of emotions was still present but the anger had turned into fear, into repulsion. He was disgusted with himself for even having had touched such a demon like him.

Turning around, Goku picked up the still-running joint on the ground, and held it in his hands, as if it was evidence that what he had just seen was in fact real. He crushed the cigarette in his hands, wincing at the burning sensation the smoke put into his palm before letting the ashes fall to the ground in a grey mess.

Disgusting.