A/N: Wheeee, I'm free of my writer's block so I should be able to wrap this up soon enough.

EDIT: This is the last chapter. I was hoping to finish this story but I'm tired of getting flamed by rabid G/CC fans. The end is a joke; it doesn't mean Goku doesn't love Chi-Chi. Some people really need to take a step back and decide whether or not getting pissed off over fictional characters is worth the energy. Anyway, this is done, so thanks for reading to everyone else who behaved like an adult.

EDIT2: I wanted to offer my sincere thanks for those who messaged and left encouraging reviews. I'm hoping I can return to this story eventually. I also wanted to tell yet another irritating anonymous reviewer that no, I will not adopt this story out to anyone, and I will be watching to make sure it isn't taken from me. You don't see any flames on the review list for one very glaring reason-they are 100% guest reviews that I moderate and delete.

Warnings: Mild sensuality.

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 Twelfth }


"D'you think Gohan will be lonely without me around?"

Our son was tumbling through the swaying grass, dappled in sunshine and laughing as Piccolo looked on with one eye open. It was a deceptively calm day that was rare on Mt. Paozu and we had all decided to take advantage of it before the weather turned for the worse. Lunch had been ready for nearly an hour but I didn't have the heart to interrupt Gohan's frolicking and I certainly didn't want to move my husband from our place of solace beneath a towering oak tree.

Goku's blonde head was on my lap and he turned away from watching Gohan to look up at me, blinking. The wind gently brushed his hair back. "Do you?"

I smiled. I was leaning against the tree with half-lidded eyes, only vaguely aware of Gohan's antics. He had surpassed his father—Goku was certain our son would be the key to defeating Cell. My sweet Gohan had been cursed with power he didn't truly want that consistently put him in the spotlight. I wanted the ordeal to be over so he could return to diligently studying.

My fingers combed through my husband's hair and his eyes closed. We'd been resting together for a while and my thighs were going numb from being bent for so long but I couldn't move. I didn't dare shatter out brief, glass perfection reflecting across the landscape. It was the dream I had chased ferociously from the beginning when I first hypothesized that relationships were akin to balancing yourself upon a tightrope. We were a small, beautiful family with a small, beautiful home.

"Gohan will be fine," I murmured. I'd never felt so calm before. I could've floated into space. "He's very fond of Piccolo and eventually Trunks will be old enough to be his friend, too. And when he goes to high school, I'm positive his friends will love him as much as we do."

Then Goku's light blue eyes were on mine, sad and confused. He suddenly reached up to gently grasp the back of my head and I quietly leaned over him, grasping his orange shirt in my fists. His lips were beside my ear and the peal of Gohan's laughter faded into the distance as his father spoke.

"Will he hate me, Chi-Chi?"

"Gohan will never hate you."

Fingers knitted through my hair. "…Will you hate me, Chi-Chi?"

We'd been to hell and back together, and sometimes, we had braved our own personal demons alone. I had seen the Saiyan in Goku on our wedding night and various times thereafter, exposing me to his primal side that he had difficulty controlling. We had a half-Saiyan son together who was as brilliant as he was powerful. Goku had died tragically, leaving me alone and my son in Piccolo's possession. I'd lost them both again when they left to fight Frieza and Goku had taken an extended trip.

There had been seemingly endless cold nights. Gohan would comfort me but I was afraid to show my weakness before my son and lashed out in a controlling manner, struggling to maintain my position as the foundation of our unorthodox family. But there had always been a promise that Goku would return, even if it was later than I hoped. He always came back to me, grinning and apologetic.

Why was it that our three years of peace had been gone in an instant, while the year Goku was dead lasted a lifetime? Our five years before that damn Raditz had ruined my carefully construed perfection had been trying but well worth the heartache. It felt like I had been cheated. We were both thirty years old, and I had barely any fond memories of my husband to cling to when he left me for good.

I leaned back a bit to smile down at Goku, tenderly touching his blonde hair. I selfishly wished I could've spent our remaining days together with his regular appearance. It was the end, after all. There would be no more cold dinners while I awaited his return home; no more irritated demands that Gohan fetch his father. We had married at 18 but I was worlds apart from my husband.

Where had the time gone?

Tears brimmed in my eyes and I hurriedly wiped them away. "It's too early to be talking like this. Why don't you go spend some time with Gohan and Piccolo? I think lunch is about to freeze."

A strong hand caught my wrist and pulled it away from my face. Goku sat up and his fingers twisted through mine, tugging me into his arms. I clung to him desperately, praying it was all just a cosmic joke and that he would come back to me no matter what. He had no duty to anyone else.

"You're right," Goku said. "I guess I'm being a little negative, huh?"

Then he was gone, and there was a flash of orange as he tackled Gohan into the grass. I struggled to compose myself while Piccolo's eye shifted focus to me before quickly moving away. Emotion made him uncomfortable, which I could empathize with. There were still nearly seven days to go so there was no use getting so upset the first damn day. We could save the crying for the morning my boys left.

Soon I returned to the quiet house to finish fixing lunch while I listened attentively to the sound of Goku and Gohan laughing. Krillin was intending on coming by as well so I had made a bit more than usual and hoped it would suffice. I transferred the sandwiches to a platter and poured lemonade from a dripping jug into plastic cups that wouldn't shatter quite as easily under the pressure of Goku and Gohan's new strength. I'd been furious that they wanted to spend every waking moment with their blonde hair.

Goku had nearly killed me when he patted me on the back reassuringly and I'd considered throwing him out of the house. Of course, I wasn't strong enough, and allowed him back inside after he spent the day cleaning up the yard around the house. We made love late that night while Gohan trained with Piccolo, who grudgingly demanded a wage for babysitting our son. It wasn't that I was avoiding Gohan—I just knew his father would make sure he came back in one piece. Goku, on the otherhand…

I paused in arranging the drinks on a separate tray, closing my eyes to reminisce on the past two days. They had been wonderful. Goku immersed himself in his home life and we had giggled like teenagers in bed, far different from our usual silent evenings when we had to restrain ourselves. I knew it was better to pull myself away and brace for the loss but I couldn't.

"Goku isn't coming back, is he?" asked a deep voice.

Piccolo had a habit of appearing from absolutely nowhere with his arms folded like he had always been waiting. I gasped in shock and jolted back, almost knocking over the sandwiches, while he impatiently waited for my reply. He was almost as bad as Vegeta, and that was saying something.

I sniffed. "I don't know, maybe you should talk to him about that. I'm trying to make lunch for those of us that need to eat."

"Hmph. You're the only one he'll admit it to."

"Well, that's how it's going to have to be. I can't go spreading Goku's secrets around."

"Damn human," he grumbled before picking up the tray of sandwiches.

Krillin was outside with Goku and Gohan and my husband was rubbing his forehead like he had been struck by something. I called them to the picnic table and they flocked excitedly; Goku even kissed me on the cheek before he sat down. Dumfounded, I wiped my hands on my apron and watched my husband and son shovel endless sandwiches into their mouths while Krillin shook his head with mixed horror and admiration. Piccolo looked utterly revolted.

Goku turned with a mouth full of food and patted the spot between himself and Gohan. I hesitated, not sure if I wanted to risk getting bread all over my cheongsam, but my husband pulled me down on the seat and eagerly began discussing Android 18 with Krillin. Gohan smiled up at me, blue eyes sparkling.

"This is really good, mom!" he said. "You make the best food ever! It's nothing like the gross berries and dinosaur meat I had to eat when Piccolo was training me. Blegh, I'd much rather have sandwiches and lemonade forever." He peered past me at his father. "Right, dad?"

Our son was a budding genius, a light I had noticed in him from the beginning. He was well aware that Goku wouldn't return, though I knew he would never outright say it. I rolled my eyes and wiped food from the corner of Gohan's mouth while Goku sang praises about my cooking. No, Gohan would never hate his father. Thankfully, he didn't have that kind of evil inside him.

"Jeez, that was delicious," Krillin said, patting his stomach. "Can't eat too much, though. I've still got some training to do with Yamcha and Tien. Are you gonna come along, Goku?"

"Gohan and I have hit our max," my husband said. "There isn't much else we can do, so we decided to spend the time with Chi-Chi."

"I think they're just looking for the food," I said to Krillin.

We all laughed and talked and life felt normal. Stories were traded, I giggled at a few Krillin told about Goku during his younger days, and Gohan listened with rapt attention to our tale about finding the Bansho Fan to retrieve my mother's wedding dress. The day was over too soon.

Gohan hugged me tightly about the waist before flying off to meditate with Piccolo, once again leaving Goku and I alone in our small home. I wouldn't force Gohan to leave home if he didn't want to but again, I firmly believed he understood the situation and wanted to give us time to ourselves. Goku and I watched quietly as our son vanished over the horizon, trailing after his mentor.

Warm hands alighted upon my shoulders. "You're right, Chi-Chi. He's gonna be fine."

The nights were becoming more urgent but we were still thoroughly enjoying ourselves. Goku's mouth moved excitedly against mine in our bedroom and he peeled his shirt off while I toyed with the clasp on my dress irately, struggling to get free of it in time. He held my face firmly between his palms and deepened the kiss so I stumbled with a squeal and collapsed on the bed. I threw a pillow at him while he laughed and rubbed the back of his head.

"That's not funny, you buffoon!" I hissed through the darkness.

"Aww, c'mon Chi." He pulled me to my feet again, restricting me in his arms to unhook my cheongsam so it slid in a quiet heap to the floor.

My husband pressed me to the sheets and eagerly kissed my neck while my murmurs of protest were lost in breathy panting. It was strange at first having a pair of blue eyes watching me through our shadowy bedroom instead of Goku's intense and at times intimidating dark irises but I grew accustomed to it. We played together and I laughed into his collar bone when he nibbled on my earlobe, tilting my hips to meet his in a single, fluid motion.

It was obvious that all of our nights together would inevitably result in pregnancy but it seemed so far away to me. Goku pulled me on top of him, grasping my waist so his thumbs pressed into the arch of my hip bones. I moved deliberately and ran my fingers along his ribbed abdomen, marveling at how beautiful he looked sweating under the moonlight. His eyes rolled back and suddenly, I was underneath him again, legs wrapped tightly around his waist while I moaned and pulled on his hair.

The bed creaked in protest as we both reached our climax and I could only moan Goku's name as my frantic inner spasms finally pulled him free of his own arousal. He turned me on my stomach and ground into me with several loud grunts before I felt him swell inside me and shudder. His fingers slipped past my hip bone to stroke me, eliciting more moans into the pillows.

"Mmm… Bulma…"

My eyes widened but I was momentarily helpless, clutching the sheets as Goku finally pulsated to his end. He drooped over me, both arms on either side of my ribcage, and rested his forehead against my back, panting and trying to catch his breath. He was trembling from head to toe.

I struggled away from him to flip over on my back and slap him hard across the face. He recoiled in fear and shock, holding his wounded cheek while I furiously looked on.

"Bulma?" I echoed. "Just what the hell were you thinking about, Goku?!"

"D-did I say B-Bulma?" Goku asked, stammering and turning pale. He scrambled backwards, falling off the bed when I began angrily swatting him with a pillow. "It was a mistake, Chi-Chi! My head gets all tangled up sometimes towards the end and—"

"Shut up!" I shrieked, pursuing him as he hastily crawled away. "That's why you've been so concerned about her. Are you always imagining her?!"

"No, no, it was only a few times! And—"

"A few times?! A FEW TIMES?!"

My husband covered his head while I beat him repeatedly with the pillow, trying to gain leverage to suffocate him. He kept apologizing profusely and swore it had only been a 'once or twice' which only served to fan the flames of my rage. I couldn't believe it—my Goku, thinking of someone else in the middle of sex? And it was Bulma, no less! I dreaded the self-satisfied expression on her face if and when she found out. I'd always known she was after Goku, right from the beginning.

Then he grasped my wrists and moved me back to the bed, restraining me bent over the mattress. I screamed and thrashed, burning with anger, and one of Goku's hands slid across my mouth to keep me quiet. He held me still until I finally stopped fighting, though I was still absolutely livid.

"I'm… I'm sorry," he said. "But…" He shifted behind me and pressed down harder, bracing for my reaction. "Well, Bulma's pretty, so sometimes I pretend she's…"

"What?" I snapped.

"…I don't wanna say it; you'll think I'm weird."

I tried kicking him to no avail. "I doubt anything could surprise me now! Please tell me all about how you're thinking of Bulma while we're in bed together. I'd love to hear it."

"It's not only Bulma," he said, suddenly insistent. "I don't stop thinking about you or anything like that. But… she's really pretty and you're really pretty, so I figured if both of you were here at the same time, that would be a good combination. I don't want you to be gone, Chi-Chi."

With an exasperated groan, I buried my face in the sheets. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Goku was a man just like the rest of them. What an insufferable moron.