Disclaimer: Chibi Trunks asked me to marry him. But I can't! He's only 8 years old and I'm almost 18! *sniff sniff* He's jailbait! Waaaahhh!

A/N: No, none of you can marry him. His plastic little booty is mine. Anyhoo, sorry about that. And I'm sorry about the wait for this chapter. I've been really busy lately. High school, college classes, and homecoming plus homework and an attempt at a social life take up all my time. Oh, yeah, I'm a canidate for my school's homecoming queen this year. Which means that updates are gonna be even more dragged out. But yeah, I finally got around to writing.

I hope y'all like this chapter, it took me a while to write because I just couldn't get it to fit with the past chapters. On a side note, "Launch" (Lunch) kicks ass, I'm madly in love with Gohan and the Great Saiyaman, and Videl is my role model.

Read, enjoy, review.

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Petrified Tears
chapter 56



Gohan drummed his fingers on his desk as he waited for someone to pick up the phone. It'd rung about twelve times already, and was still ringing. He sighed and leaned back in the chair as he shifted the receiver into the hollow of his shoulder, using both hands to reach over the ancient tome in front of him, his fingers closing around the frame beneath his green and gold desk lamp.

"Come on, pick up," he sighed as he counted the twenty-third ring. Holding the frame in front of him, he smiled down at the picture of his daughter and his father as they lay in the grass, smiling up at the clouds in the sky, his daughter's fourteen year old face bright and cheerful as she held one hand behind her head, the other hand pointing up at some distant star or cloud. On her left, his father lay in the grass, his tiny form spread eagle on the ground, stubby arms and stubby legs forming a star with his head, his face in a great grin at something that his granddaughter had said. Gohan smiled, gingerly drawing his thumb across the glass over his daughter's face.

Thirty-one…thirty-two…thirty-thr—

"Hello? Capsule Corps, Pan speaking; sorry for the delay in accepting your call. Mr. Briefs is in the middle of a presidential crisis at the moment, so I'm afraid he'll have to call you back. If you have any idea of what today has been like, you'll pretend you never called. If this is an emergency, you should scream very loudly because I'm now hanging up," came the hoarse and hurried voice of his daughter. Moans and whimpers sounded in the background.

"Pan! Wait!" Gohan cried, jumping up and leaning forward in the chair, leaning half on his desk, gripping the phone in one hand, the frame gently in the other. He busied himself with mental throttlings as he told himself that his daughter's voice was not hoarse with passion, that he had not called in the middle of…of… "It's your father! Don't hang up!"

"Daddy!" Pan cried, her voice cracking. Her voice verged on panicked hysteria; in the background the moans and whimpers ceased and turned into a nervous laugh that rose into a cackle.

"Pan, what's going on?"

"Daddy—ih…it's kind of a…uh…a bad time…right now…um, could…could you…" She trailed off, discretely coughing. The cackling became muffled.

"Pan…" he was cut off by a quiet squawk and a muffled thud. His mind immediately fell into the gutter, terrible images flashing before his eyes no matter how hard he tried to stop them.

"Shh, shh, it's ok. Just calm down. Shh…"

"Pan-Pan…"

"Shh. It's ok. I'll be off the phone in a minute."

"A minute's too long!"

"Sorry Daddy, this is really a bad time. Trunks is kind of…um…well, he's…under a lot of pressure right now," Pan said, turning back to the phone. Her voice was still hoarse, but calm and steady now, as if she were talking to a child who'd walked in on his parents.

Which was exactly what Gohan felt like.

"Panny…hurry!"

Whimpering sounded in the background, and he heard his daughter turn to soothe. Gohan forced himself to set down the frame, afraid he'd crack it. Clenching his eyes and clenching his teeth, he tuned out the background noise. Stray giggles and grunts and groans still reached him. Pan swore-pain or anger or…or…her emotions didn't reach him through the mental shield.

"Pan," he whispered, his voice tight. "Pan, what's—"

"Sorry Daddy. It's been a long day and Trunks and I have…" she paused and swore under her breath. "…something that needs to be taken care of before we have a…uh…situation." She grunted, or groaned, he wasn't sure. His hand tightened on the receiver, his mind seeking out their kis without the permission of his will. He sensed his daughter holding Trunks's head to her chest. The receiver cracked under the pressure of his knuckles.

"Pan…"

"Daddy, did something break?"

"No."

He forced his eyes open, tears flooding them. Desperately, he attempted to tell himself that she was just stressed and overworked with too little sleep, and that Trunks was just having another of his biweekly breakdowns. Nothing was happening, he hadn't called at a crucial moment. She was just…comforting…him….

"Daddy? I really need to get off the phone. We need to finish, and then Bulma needs us to go over the details with her."

"Details?" Gohan choked out, his face falling blank, sweat trickling down his temple.

Pan gave a half strangled gasp and stumbled to recover, through his shield against distracting noises, he heard Trunks start hyperventilating.

"Pan! No! She's not…he's not…no one is supposed to…no! Pan!"

"Shh…sorry…sorry…it slipped."

"Nuh…no, Daddy. Sorry, I think I gave you the wrong impression. She gave us the plans to a project this morning that we need to go over and talk to her about…but we got dis…tracted. Um, Daddy, I really need to go…"

Gohan forced himself to calm down. Trunks was just breaking down again…he did so almost weekly. He liked to delude himself that the rest of the world didn't know. He wanted to keep it that way…that was all…

"Pan, I just wanted to know if you'd like to go to lunch with me. I know you're busy with deadlines and…things…but if I could come by and pick you up? I haven't seen much of you and would like to—"

"Dammit Pan! Tell Gohan you'll call him back! Fuck, I'll tell him myself!"

"LovetoDaddy,really,butIreallyneedtobegoing!"

Gohan blinked, his daughter's words one jumbled mass echoing in his mind.

"Pa…Panny?"

"Sorry. I'd love to go to lunch, Daddy, but now is really bad timing. We need to get these blueprints figured out, Bulma no doubt has a thousand more things for us to do before she lets us out of this damned cage, not to mention what's currently going on. Besides, any spare time I find is going to be devoted to me sleeping. Sleep has taken precedence over food."

Gohan nodded, stroking the glass of the frame, his eyes clouded over as tears ran down his cheeks. The shaky smile on his lips hitched as he noticed the faint shadow thrown between his father and little girl in the picture. The photographer had been Trunks; of course it had been, this had been taken during their year in space. The faint smile shattered into a scowl, but he shook it off. "It's alright, Sweetheart," he choked past his tears, his voice quiet and uncharacteristically heavily laden with burden. "I understand."

"Daddy…" Her voice was strained and just as troubled as his.

"I understand Sweetheart. I'll see you at dinner, alright?"

She sighed, but when she next spoke, her voice was light again. "Keep your fingers crossed but don't wait for me, alright?" He heard her turn and say something to Trunks; he swiped the tears out of his eyes, telling himself that she had grown up. That he should have seen this coming, that he was probably jumping to unmerited conclusions.

"Daddy, save me."

The voice was so small and so pitiful and pathetic and so unprovoked that his soul started, that his heart wrenched. He wanted to reach out and hold her, he wanted to take her into his arms and hold her, take care of his daughter the way he always should have taken care of her. And he did reach out, but she wasn't there. He couldn't reach her.

He had never been able to reach her.

"Panny,"

"Pan! Please!"

He heard her whimper, torn between two of the people she loved the most.

"I've got to go…sorry Daddy."

"It's ok," he told her, but in reality the words were more for himself. He stared dejectedly at the picture, his smile sad, his soul still writhing from a plea he couldn't answer. "I understand…Call if you're going to be late tonight."

She paused, or else her words were lost on him, then she sighed. "Daddy—I—"

"I understand, Sweetie," he assured her, forcing himself to breathe as he wiped away his tears with his shirtsleeve, praying that his nose didn't sound as stuffy to her as it did in his head.

She hesitated again, her hesitation cut off by more whimpers and groans from Trunks.

"Shit…Daddy, I've gotta go."

Gohan let his shoulders roll forward as his head fell slightly onto his chest. Tears glistened in his eyes once more as he stared at the little girl he hadn't been there for—the little girl she'd been that year in space, where his father was hers and her brother, and the boy he had baby-sat had been her best friend, role model, and so many other things. A stray tear slipped down his cheek, and he wished that he could crush the boy into a pulp. But she'd hate him if he did…it was too late now.

He drew his finger across the glass once more.

He should have seen this coming.

"Take care, Panny," he whispered to the dial tone.

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A/N: Well, I don't really have much more to say. Right now, I'm pretty braindead, and obviously out of it. I hope you guys liked this chapter. What was goin' on in that office, huh? Anyways, I need to go. Oh! And I feel loved! My buddy told me (but didn't promise, and that's ok!) that someday he might draw me a fanmanga based on PT! Yay! I love you buddy! Yay!

-Panabelle ;P
Shrine of the Saiyan Squirt