Sleeping Panny - Only You

[Author's Notes: Wow. This took a while. But it's finally done! ^^ A few things about this chapter-- Pan's eyes, in DBZ anyway, are blue. So I'm just using that and not the black from DBGT. For obvious reasons. And I think you'll see from reading this that action is *not* my specialty. Don't expect my little fight thing to be like the next mortal kombat movie in script form. Don't hurt me for that 9_9 The rest is pretty self explanatory, I hope-- and I do have ideas for an epilogue if anyone wants it. Be sure to review and tell me :) (But if I do get enough requests for one, don't expect it out soon. I'm visiting Japan again from the first to the fifteenth of August, and writing, unfortunately, isn't one of my top priorities there.) As always, thank you to those who reviewed, feedback is always appreciated :) On to Only You!]

He ran as quickly as his legs would take him, away from the roaring crowds, the glittering lights, and the mindless gossiping. Away from where he "belonged", the blinding spotlight in which he had spent his life. And he wasn't quite sure where he was going, or why . . . but it felt right, and that was all that mattered to him. So he raced on through the darkening streets, with the faith that he'd find what he had been looking for.

As he pressed on, the landscape grew savage and unfriendly. Eerie forests rose from the ground, cloaked in darkness, and leafless branches stretched toward the sky. Ahead, a tall structure loomed over the barren desert, covered in vines and moss. It was easily centuries old, and from the poor condition, it didn't take a genius to see that it had been abandoned for far too long. Gates of rusted metal encircled the broken castle, and a moat of murky water gurgled, still harboring life.

Cautiously, he neared the broken gates, no longer controlled by instinct. His eyes on the stone castle, he stepped closer yet, moving silently toward the fallen drawbridge. The moldy wooden bridge, half submerged in darkened water, had long ago plunged and split into longer, thinner logs, though still extending from the establishment's entrance. Carefully, Trunks stepped onto one of the larger pieces, immersing his boots into the mucky water as he did so. Balancing himself, he crossed the length, finding himself at an iron door, slightly ajar, and blinding light peeked out from underneath.

Drawn to the light, like a moth to flame, he entered, mesmerized. As he stepped in, glittering lights flooded into his eyes, and though this castle had been abandoned for so long, no one would've been able to see it from the inside. Lush carpets and giant paintings adorned the rooms, and halls filled with grand tables and elegant chairs sat, empty. Carefully, he tiptoed up the spiraling stairs, half expecting it all to fade away and reveal a worn down shack, or a giant ogre to open its eyes and attack. Neither happened.

And as he climbed, the main hallway grew smaller and smaller, but the end was not in sight. As he climbed, he grew tired and weary, his legs straining, but still, the end never came. Gradually, he slowed his pace to a halt and gripped the railings. It was much too late to turn back, and he had begun to realize that if he continued to climb the violet staircase, no end would come. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to remember, trying to think.

~ o n l y y o u

"What happened next?" A young, curious voice broke through his jumble of thoughts, as if saying aloud what he needed so desperately to know.

"Well," his mother's voice echoed through his mind, bright and clear, as it had been so long ago, "the handsome prince grew angry, despair flooding into his heart. He feared he would not be able to find his princess, and so he drew his blade and stabbed it into the ground in frustration." A multitude of expressions flew across her face as the memories grew clearer, and he could see the smile hidden in her eyes for what would come next.

"He bent to the ground and began to cry. Don't listen to your father, boys do cry." His mother flashed him a wink and continued, "But before long, the ground began to rumble and shake terribly, and a loud, terrifying noise shot through the air! It was then that the prince realized--"

~ o n l y y o u

His eyes shot open as realization struck, and hope crept into his face once more. The legend. It was more than a child's wishful yarn. Slowly, firmly, he gripped the hilt of his sword and drew it from its sheath, thrusting it into the ground. Alert, he clutched the railing, and in moments, the ground began to shake. True to his memories, an ear-piercing shriek filled the air, and as everything collapsed, a dragon formed from the debris.

Red eyes glared at Trunks from high above, and hard, cruel nails protruded from fleshy claws. Silver scales rose from its back, and a cloak of violet made up its skin. Rows and rows of pearly white fangs peeked out from its gargantuous lips as it smiled cruelly, malice in its eyes. The creature plodded closer, nearly shaking the earth as it walked, and parted its lips as if to speak, "You," it hissed, "are the last thing that keeps me from my vengeance. Only you."

Trunks backed away slowly, now without weapon to attack. Squinting, he gazed at his gleaming sword, still buried within the beast's scales, surrounded in moldy purple blood. He closed his eyes once more, trying ominously to remember more of the story. But all he seemed to remember was a fairy shield and that the prince never lost his sword for long. Groaning inwardly, he flared his ki, trying to draw out all of his hidden strength. But though he tried, fighting was never his greatest talent, and what resulted was a powerful ball of blue flame that spiraled toward the hissing dragon. Powerful by his standards, not the dragon's.

The prince's flames were true, hitting their target in no time, but doing less damage than he had hoped. The dragon's "smile" broadened, and its lips parted once more. It didn't take a genius to see that the violet smoke that came was only a prelude to what was to come. As quickly as he could, Trunks took to the air, evading the dragon's flame and ending up just above its head, safe for the time being. Taking advantage of the dragon's business, Trunks flew to his blade, tugging a few times on the hilt to remove it and placing himself back above his opponent.

~ o n l y y o u

The remains of the legend slipped from his mind, but he could still see his mother's face as she told it. Silently, he searched his mind for the answers, and though in the end he found them, they were a set of his own. He would make his own legend. Still in the air, the breathless prince searched once more for the power that he had been told so many times he had. The power he had never learned to use. Never wanted to use. The power that had separated him from his father in so many ways. The power that he needed more than anything.

And as he searched, as he looked within himself, it wasn't power that he found. It wasn't any hidden strength or a secret he had forgotten so long ago. Memories plagued him-- memories of so many things. Of times when he was on top of the world, those first times and days of joy and laughter. The day he got his first pair of roller blades, his first bicycle, and then his first car. His first crush, his first date, and the day he first met Meryn. And there were memories of the hard times, the days when he wished he could curl up and hide from the world. Of times when he had lost a loved one or when he made a costly mistake. And it was those that gave him strength, gave him courage, gave him hope, and in that strength, in that courage, and in that hope-- he found power.

~ o n l y y o u

In a flash of brilliant light, Trunks' sword flew, fueled by flames and surrounded in an aura of pure white. And in that same flash, so much else happened. A life was taken, a life was saved, a curse was broken, and a new path was paved. The riches and finery of the old castle of stone melted into nothing, and in its place? A cabin of rotted wood and moss stood firmly, refusing to give in to nature and time. Drained from his travels, but still curious, Trunks pushed on, gently swinging open the door of the cabin and stepping in.

What he found? Well, he found no fortress of gold, no fairies and no jewelry. There was no elegant princess slumbering upon a giant canopy bed, covered in silken sheets and blankets spun of golden threads. But there was a modest little cot in the corner of the room, where no light dared tread, with a mattress made of dried grass and crisp leaves, and coarsely made sheets, wrinkled and stained over time. On it lay a girl, she was no princess, seemingly lifeless. Dirt was smudged across her pale cheeks, and there were knots and remnants of spider webs in her hair.

Still, a smile found a way to his face, a smile of hope, a smile of triumph. And though she was no princess, he knew, somehow, that she was what he had been looking for. Gently, he brushed his hand against her cheek and leaned closer, closer, and closer yet. And as their lips met, brilliant color exploded throughout. Extravagant reds and faded pinks colored her chapped lips, and bright blues flowed into her eyes. Pale peaches and lively browns crawled into her fingertips and flowed through her skin, and the darkest shadows of the night fell into her hair, bringing it to life.

And as those eyes fluttered open, oh so slowly, their eyes clashed, blue with blue, and what became from that? Well, that would be a legend of its own.

[A/N: Review it! Pleeaase! *waves the spoon around again* You will review.. you will review.. @_@]