Disclaimer—::bandaging Gohan's broken arm while in the process of breaking another:: I don't own them…I just break them, then heal them, then maybe (if I'm feeling mean) break them again and send them on their way…
A/N—I'd like to thank everyone for their kind comments on the last chapter—it sure made all of my work on it worth it. I'd also like to say that although I appreciate all of the suggestions in the reviews, I do already have most of this story planned out and I'm not likely to take them. As you can see with my bringing Saiyaman in (although most of you hated him and wanted to kill him) I'm not easily swayed by reader opinion! So, though I appreciate your speculations as to what's to come, don't be offended if they're not used. Don't get me wrong, I love you all and thank you for reviewing!!! ::passes out sad little injured Gohan clones for everyone to take care of—tail optional::
*Special thanks to Burenda for her lessons on '10 Simple, But Effective Ways to be Horrifying in Fanfiction.'*
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It was calm and cold outside. The crisp scent of a late spring frost floated under the windowpanes, and infiltrated the room. Upon entering, the clean freshness was met with a sweat tossed dampness that reeked of nightmares.
On a small pallet in the middle of the room, the lone occupant tossed and turned, murmuring to himself, giving life to the odor.
Luckily, this was one of the few nights that little Goten hadn't chosen to climb into bed and cuddle with his brother. Had the small boy been there, he would have been confused, and no little terrified at the anguished whimpers his big brother was emitting,
***Gohan's Dream***
He was running again. He always ran in his dreams, running towards something, running away. Unfortunately for Gohan, he didn't know that it was a dream.
It was dark. The shadows were filled with creeping things that would never quite come close enough for him to make out what they were. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. Whatever else was out there, he knew that they were. He could hear the whispers as their voices grated up and down his spine. His heart thudded in his chest with the rapid jangling patter of a tambourine and his breath came in ragged gasps as he envisioned the horrors stalking him from the shadows.
The endless blackness seemed to ripple about him with a strange undulating kind of motion, and he was involuntarily reminded of the story of Jonah. Perhaps this was what it would feel like to be trapped inside of a whale. The hot crushing air closing in from all sides, the blackness that twisted and wrapped around you until you were sure you were going to suffocate—there was no escape.
Vaguely, in the distance, a glimmer of hope sparked. There was a faint light it seemed, in the formerly infinite darkness. Struggling through the sticky heat, Gohan felt like his lungs were on fire. On the edge of his consciousness, he could still hear those hated whispers, growing louder by the moment, as if they were gaining on him. Fear surged like liquid fire through his veins, causing the hair on his arms to stand straight in protest, adrenaline pounded hot through his body, giving him the strength to continue. He kept on running. Towards the light—towards salvation.
From the corners of his eyes, he could see flitting figures, and the hissing of the whispers was coming clear…
"Pretty little monkey boy…" The words echoed, the crushing, suffocating walls reflecting them. His mind cowered back from the whispers as they pounded into his ears over and over again, "…monkey boy…monkey boy…"
Desperate to get away from the mocking echoes, Gohan stumbled, then tripped. Struggling heavily to his feet, he noticed that his perspective was different. Even in the awful blackness, he could tell that something was wrong—he was somehow smaller.
A tickling flicker made itself known at Gohan's right ankle. Gasping, he spun quickly around, nerves afire, ready to strike at whatever threatened him. Reaching out he grasped—his tail? Terror flooded his mind, as the whispers resolved into well-known voices. Panting, the heavy air rushed in and out of his lungs with a sticky liquid feeling. No… Gohan clutched his tail fearfully and slowly backed away—towards the light.
Gohan spun around, fleeing desperately, stumbling feet seeking purchase on the black fathomless ground. A looming phantasm flew towards the teen-turned-child from out of the darkness. Zarbon's mocking face filled his eyes as the headless apparition sped at him from the side, and barely missed slamming into him, flooding the boy with alternating surges of terror and rage, causing his ki to flicker wildly.
"Monkey boy, monkey boy…" The face taunted as it flew past.
Gohan kept on running, the heavy pounding of his heart replacing the mocking taunts in his ears. It was hopeless…he knew he couldn't defeat them. He was helpless…just a kid, and they were so much stronger….they were always stronger…
Flickering visions of past tortures haunted his vision as he to labored desperately to avoid it happening again. Not again. They were coming for him…the very thought of their touch sent shivers of disgust running up and down his spine, causing his tail to cling fearfully to his waist. The cold acidic taste of terror crept into his throat as the cawing whispers assaulted his ears.
"What, don't want us to get hold of your tail, monkey boy?" Recoom's dull voice spat from the blackness, "Even the Prince of the monkeys had to give it up when you had his tail…"
Raucous, mocking laughter resounded from all sides.
"Wanna catch a monkey, just grab his tail! Come on monkey boy," Jeice's red and white head whizzed past him, "Let's have some fun!"
The light he had been running towards approached suddenly seeming to rush up and engulf him, chasing his ghastly, headless tormentors back into the hellish pit they had come from.
Gohan found himself standing in the midst of a field. It looked to be some time in mid-spring. Daisies dotted the knee-high grass, giving the scene a fresh, pastoral look.
Gohan's hands clenched, and he realized that he was no longer grasping his tail. Reaching around, he felt, to his relief, that it was gone once again, and from his bent position he noticed that he was no longer a child. Curiously, the once again teenaged Gohan looked around. Across the field, in a long white dress, peaceful and serene, there was a girl picking flowers.
As if she heard his thoughts, the girl looked up, smiled, and began slowly pacing towards him, daisies held before her like a bridal bouquet. As she drew closer, Gohan thought that there was something familiar about her…she was beautiful…but that wasn't it….she was….VIDEL!
Videl smiled at the sudden look of recognition on his face, and continued to pace closer. Gohan couldn't help but gulp nervously, his heart pounding for an entirely different reason than it had moments before…he'd never noticed it before, but…when she smiled, she was so…beautiful…
As Videl came to a stop in front of him, Gohan blushed, but remained in place, as she leaned seductively forward to whisper into his ear…."What are you, a monster?" The voice was harsh, and cold, filled with choking contempt, nothing like what he'd expected.
Gohan's face went from flushed to white as a sheet and his body broke out in a cold sweat. He stared, dazed, at the girl before him, as the wind began to pick up, sweeping in ominous gray clouds to blot the sun from the once cheerful sky.
Looking at the disgusted sneer, filled with anger and hatred, that had replaced Videl's formerly joyful expression, Gohan stuttered, "W-what?" He watched in horror as tears surged into her pale blue eyes and his heart filled with a cold, sluggish anguish that tore greedily at his soul, as if to devour it.
The wind ravaged her long white dress, tattering it at the bottom, and a cold hail-filled rain began falling, smashing into the two, unnoticed. The bouquet of daisies Videl held in her hands was buffeted and ripped, lazy petals hurled to the ground, leaving barren, naked stalks in the girl's white grip. Videl didn't answer.
Gohan looked down in horror at the fallen petals—somehow, the sight of them, limp and lifeless, lying inert, filled him with horror. He watched in terror-filled fascination as the petals began to wriggle, taking on a life of their own. It was only when they started crawling towards him, making their way, pulsating, up his legs, that Gohan recognized them for what they were…maggots.
Choking, Gohan staggered back, struggling in vain to wipe the disgusting creatures from his limbs as they swarmed up, consuming him. There were millions of them…too many to count. All the while, Videl stood and watched, a look of righteousness on her face. He could read it in her eyes—she saw this as justice.
"NO!" Gohan tried to say, as the quivering mass surged past his neck. He wanted desperately to explain it to her—explain it all—he wasn't a monster. He couldn't stand the cold hatred that burned for him in her eyes. As he opened his mouth, the maggots surged inward, cutting off his breath, and his explanation. The last thing he saw as they covered his eyes was Videl's face. She was smiling.
***End Dream Sequence***
Gohan surged to life, struggling against the blankets that held his trembling form to the bed. Still shaking slightly, he wiped his sweat-covered face with one trembling white hand.
It had been a dream…he knew what the first part was about, but…there had never been a light in that darkness before—where had that come from? And the second part…
Gohan repressed a shudder at the remembrance of the maggots, surging past his teeth and into his lungs, stealing his breath.
And what of Videl? Why had she been there, and why was it so important that she understand? Why had the anger and hatred in her eyes burned his heart like a brand?
Shaking his head, Gohan pushed the sweat soaked hair out of his face, and clicked on the light at his desk. Taking out a fresh sheet of paper, he sat and stared, trying to think of something to write. Anything to chase away the nightmares…
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In the dimly lit kitchen, Chi-Chi looked up from the cup of tea she was making, to see a sliver of light appear beneath Gohan's door.
Biting her lip, she bobbed the teabag up and down in a nervous gesture. This was the third night in a row. The first night, she hadn't been sure, but when he'd appeared drawn and haggard at the breakfast table, suspicion had solidified into certainty.
Why hadn't he told her? Told her about the nightmares? She knew that he still had flashbacks, as she'd been witness to a few, but somehow, the nightmares had completely slipped her mind.
It wasn't always easy for him—being back—she knew that. Slowly swirling her tea, Chi-Chi paced quietly down the hall and into her empty bedroom. She missed Goku. Chi-Chi knew she'd never get over the pain of his loss, no matter what joys appeared and tried to dislodge that hurt.
Settling down on the right side of the bed where she still slept, even after seven long years leaving Goku his side by habit, Chi-Chi sighed.
No matter what, she'd never get over her pain. When her husband had died for the last time her heart had broken, and she went on, a hollow shell, she lived only for her children. Chi-Chi would never recover. Her mothers-heart quivered at the question that pounded in her mind. Was Gohan destined to suffer the same fate?
***A bit shorter than the last few, but still longer than most! R&R Please!***
*Advertizing*-Read the Generations series by Brandon B—Trust me, you won't regret it.
