Disclaimer: Do I really have to do this? I mean, really. Do I have to? I own nothing-for the love of cheez, I DON'T EVEN HAVE MY DRIVER'S LICENSE!!! How in the name of cheez could I own DB/Z/GT if I can't even drive?! Huh?

A/N: I've been gone for a while, no? Sorry y'all. I don't think I need to explain myself, I mean...school, sleep, starve...school, sleep, dream of dinner...I can't even find time to eat, when do I write?

And for the last time: I'm not fond of Micky D's!!!! I just like smiles. Although I do like reviews... ;P

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Petrified Tears
chapter 54



Goten mentally kicked himself as the door closed, rolling over onto his side until he balanced precariously on the edge of the too-small couch, the voice of his best friend echoing in his head.

Ignoring the rantings of his mother as she chewed out his older brother, and laughing quietly as he heard the coffeepot shatter, his brother whimper, and the clang of the almighty frying pan; he winced at the bell-like toll, just the sound of the mighty weapon wielded by his mother enough to register painful memories and make his head ring. It never really hurt, though, when she whacked him, his brother, or (when he was around) his father—they all had incredibly hard heads.

Goten peeked open one eye as he heard his mother storm back upstairs, muttering about coffee stains on her dress, but more importantly, as he heard the engine rev outside. He watched as Trunks smirked at his niece, at the excited fear that raced into her eyes at the many prospects that that smirk could hold. The bike took off with a thrilled and surprised cry from Pan, and soon the orange and blue motorcycle took off into the trees, followed by a blur of black that made Goten close his eyes, the blurred image too close to that of his father every time he had left; the simple flash of orange with traces of blue, the lingering image of black hair and the smile that could haunt one forever, reminding one of all that is good and all that is worth living for—that all that is worth living for, is worth dying for, if there ever be the need.

He heard his brother enter the living room, watching as his daughter disappeared with the son of their belated father's old rival.

Goten's best friend.

He forced a half-hearted half-smile. He hadn't abandoned Trunks, or at least hadn't meant to. He'd merely been unable to explain himself and had left to go find the right words, and still hadn't found them. Trunks had assumed he was being left behind in the dust. But the truth of the matter was, Goten was willing and waiting to jump at the chance to go barhopping or go spar. But Trunks never offered it. And so he had decided merely to stay in the background; let Trunks figure it out on his own and not allow his own feeling towards the little quarter saiyan get in the way.

Truth of the matter was, though, that it killed him to do so. The previous morning had been hell, as he and his best friend had stood at the end of the walk, each afraid to saying anything, only allowing tentative and brief eye contact. Both had been petrified that they'd have to fuse together—anything strong enough to push Gohan so far so fast wasn't to be messed around with by not-so-very powerful warriors. Thank Dende it hadn't been needed, but that awkwardness was almost more unbearable then not knowing what was going on.

He knew what he had done that night four years ago; that he had combined everything into one ball of misery—the ball of misery that Pan had been before she'd left!—and hurled it at his best friend. He'd done it because, even though Pan's reasons had all been separate and individual, they had been grotesquely molded into one wretched form over so many years, starting with the disappearance of her grandfather…his father.

She'd been so close to showing the world, her friends, what she was like under everything with Goku there to watch over her, protect her against her own doubts and fears of rejection with his naïve innocence and ingenious talents to cheer. But then he had left them all.

And had left her floundering without a hope of surfacing, only to drown back beneath the layers that had smothered her for so long. Goten had tried so hard to make it easier for her, being there for her as his father had been, but it was hard for her to accept him. Almost unconsciously he had grown his hair after his father's disappearance, some small part of him trying to keep his father's image alive as he had unwittingly done as a child.

Hardly anyone noticed that he had done so, although subconsciously they all knew, and all were on some level comforted by his appearance, but Pan had drawn away from him, refusing to be anywhere where she could see him, hear him, or be reminded by him. She drew away from him, and she drew away from Trunks, remaining in close contact, but her heart just wasn't in it anymore.

Goten and Trunks had both understood, and had taken the opportunity of reestablishing the brotherly bond they'd had as children, Goten respecting Pan and keeping his distance. But when she had locked herself in her room for over a week towards the end of high school, refusing to come out—even to eat!—Gohan and Trunks had forced Goten to sneak through her window and console her, and ever since, he'd just been Goten, the odd uncle who happened to look, think, and act like his father, but didn't fight like him.

Until, that is, she told him part of why she was leaving.

Grandpa haunts me, Uncle Goten. I know if he ever heard me saying that he come whap me a good one, but he does. I…it's like I can't get over the fact that he's really gone—for good. I…I know he's died…a lot…but…I was never around when he did. And…I hate to admit it…but you aren't helping.

And he had understood, completely. He had told her so too, and she had broken down, confessing everything. And Goten had nearly wept with her on finally knowing just how much she had suffered, by her own doings or by others', and though he hadn't wanted to see her go, he'd given her his blessings, and flown to California with her to make sure she was alright over there. She wasn't (but had put on a brave face for him), and in her first month had nearly gone running home more times then he was willing to count. But he had let her be, never letting her know that he was there, checking up on her, flying over there every chance he got, between work and everything else.

Goten yawned, coming back to the present as the eddies of the motorcycle engine faded into oblivion.

"'Bout time he figure it out," he mumbled into the arm of the couch. "Only took him four years."

"Goten, what the hell are you talking about?" came the bewildered voice of his brother.

Opening one onxy eye and rolling it back to meet his brother's gaze, Goten smiled up at him.

"You've got to be blind if you haven't figured out that she's let him in on her secret," he laughed. As Gohan started, Goten laughed so hard he fell off the couch. "Come on! One would think you'd know and that I'd be clueless, Gohan! You're the scholar, I'm the idiot little brother!" As Gohan continued to stare at him, bewildered beyond all imagination, Goten staggered to his feet through his laughter, grabbing his brother and shoving him into a sitting position on the couch.

"Explain," the older commanded.

Goten shook his head and settled himself in front of his brother, sitting very Piccolo-like on the air.

"Gohan, we both know that Pan is more of a girl then she let's on to (even now), but that Vegeta and Piccolo and everyone else found it a little easier to accept her as a tomboy then a blood-thirsty little girl—"

"My daughter is not blood-thirsty!" Gohan roared, his eyes wild with anger.

Goten held up his hands as if to ward off attack.

"And we aren't blood-thirsty? Hell, Gohan, you tried to kill Trunks a few hours ago! And if she hadn't stopped you, you would have! Mercilessly and enjoying every minute of it!"

Gohan grew quiet.

"We're blood-thirsty by nature, it's that simple. But because Bra nor Marron fight, and Pan did and does, they just tossed her under the category of tomboy and left her there. Which is why she went to California, to get away from that."

Gohan growled, disgruntled, but acknowledged the truth of his brother's statement.

"Well, think about it. She hasn't really been on terms with Trunks since Dad left. He kinda ditched her to spend time with me again, and she ditched him to hole up in her room and to throw herself into school; they didn't have the ability to read each other that they used to before she left. All of a sudden, she comes back, and, wow! Every time I try and grab her for an afternoon or an hour, she's off with Trunks, happy as can be, and attempting to spend time with us, but unable to because of Bulma. The last time she was this happy for this long was right before Dad disappeared. Which leaves the explanation that she's really over it. And that she's trusted him with her secret—who she really is."

Gohan stared at him in shock, his face paling, his body going rigid.

"What? Did you think something else? Gohan, what did you—" Goten broke off into howling laughter, falling out of the air to roll on his back. "Gohan! You thought—you—you thought—" Gasping for air, eyes bulging, Goten labored himself into a sitting position through his laughter. "You—you thought—thought that they—that he—or that she—gah!"

Gohan stood up and growled down at his kid brother. "Yes, I thought that, Goten. Can you blame me? All of a sudden all she's doing is falling in or out with the guy she used to think herself so fervently in love with. Who's fourteen years older then her! What the hell else am I supposed to think? That it's just a difference of opinion?!"

"Yes, considering that's exactly what it is!" Goten yelled back, his eyes wide with suppressed laughter. "And what are you talking about, 'used to think'. She was, Gohan, and no matter what you do about it, she is. Although I'm pretty sure he doesn't return her feelings. And even if he did, he's too terrified of you and she's too scared of losing his friendship to say anything."

Gohan snarled and sank down.

"Goten, she's my daughter. I can't help but wor—"

"What, did you think they were romantically involved and that they're—" His eyes got bigger as his brother cut him off.

"Do you really need me to answer that?" Gohan growled, slouching back into the couch. He glared at his brother, warning him not laugh. Goten bit his tongue.

"But why would you—"

"He's too chummy with her. I don't like it."

Goten shook his head, steering the conversation down a seemingly obscure tangent.

"Did it ever occur to you that Trunks wears a mask just like she does?"

Gohan started at him.

"He does. Deep down, Pan is girlish and sensitive. Trunks has the same thing going on," Goten faltered. "Only he isn't gay. Nor a drag queen."

Gohan grinned, and Goten joined him in creating an image of the purple-haired son of Vegeta strutting around in pumps, a mini-skirt, and one of his sister's halter tops, wearing lipstick and mascara, his hair in two pigtails sticking off the top of his head.

Both shuddered simultaneously, the image too disturbing and far too easy to visualize.

"Ok…um…" Gohan muttered, but Goten recovered first.

"Uh…well, leave it at he's more sensitive then he lets on to, more human then he'd admit to being. Not to mention a bigger goofball then we are. I mean, for Dende's sake, Gohan!, the guy keeps a teddy bear in his desk and talks to a sock. But like I said, he's not gay…" Goten paused, his hair hanging down around his face. Shaped exactly like his father's had always been, his hair drooped more, and he was glad that it did. He batted a chunk out of his eyes. "But Vegeta'd kill him if he knew Trunks is anywhere near as sensitive as he really is. Really, could you see Vegeta's face upon learning that his son still sleeps with his security blanket and doesn't like to be alone in the dark?"

Gohan relaxed back against the couch.

"Goten, I can understand knowing about Panny," he said thoughtfully, after a few moments of silent consideration, "but what about Trunks? How did you learn all of this? And how do you know it's still true? Seems you two haven't talked in years."

"We haven't. But I was his best friend for thirty-three years, up until he assumed I abandoned him. As soon as you gain his trust like I did, or Panny has, and he's like an open book. And he's too terrified of change."

Gohan nodded, and Goten could see his mind turning. He had to admit, he'd always envied his brother's brains and scholarly intuition, but as he watched his brother's mind turn in circles that the older half-saiyan had never known existed, the shock of different outcomes showing painfully in his eyes, Goten had to admit that while being a scholar had it's advantages, this wasn't one of them.

"Tell me, Goten," Gohan said a moment later. "When did you get so smart?"

Goten cracked the famous family smile, holding his feet together in one hand as he sat on the floor, scratching the back of his hand with the other.

"I have no idea! I guess you're just wearing off on me!" They both shared a well-needed laugh, but the laughter died when Goten suggested moving back in.

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A/N: 'Nother chapter comin' up! Review por favor!

-Panabelle ;P
Shrine of the Saiyan Squirt