Disclaimer: Trying to rearrange one's class schedule a week and a half before the sememster starts is like trying to find the cure for the common cold. Always so close - but never gonna happen.

A/N: Gagh, why does everyone hate Jack so much? *big watery chibi eyes* What did he ever do to any of you?

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Petrified Tears
chapter 107



"Are you sure, Panny?"

The sad, quiet voice from her doorway found her as she was pushing open the top of her suitcase. Hesitating for a moment, she let the top fall back into the bed, picking up a pair of jeans, refolding them as she set them within.

"I need this, Daddy."

Her father sighed, her doorjamb creaking as he leaned all of his weight against it. She peeked a glance at him over her shoulder, noting the way he held his glasses in one hand, arms crossed over his chest, watching her with a melancholy sadness that hurt her as much as it did him.

It was nice to know that he'd finally let go, that he was finally letting her make her choices, but it was disconcerting and almost terrifying to know that he wouldn't be right behind her to catch her if she fell again.

"I know, Panny," he replied quietly. "But I just get the feeling you won't be coming back this time."

She smiled, lowering a small stack of shirts into the suitcase.

"It's not like I'm the one who's getting married, Daddy. Jack just needs me there."

"Like Trunks needed me?"

The blow struck her hard in the stomach and she gripped both sides of the suitcase with white fists. She clenched her eyes shut, ground her teeth. Behind her, his back against the other side of the jamb, leaned her uncle, arms crossed over his chest, black eyes watching her intently.

Forcing air back into her lungs, she raised a shaky hand, lifting another shirt, busying herself with folding it, forcing her nerves to calm.

"When did you get so smart, Uncle Goten?" she asked, her voice trembling, belying to confidence she was trying to show. "I don't remember you knowing so much."

"When it became clear to me that my best friend was as blind to your feelings as he was to his own," he replied gently.

She sighed, lightly dropping the shirt into the suitcase; not where it belonged, just where it fell. Her eyes lingered on the photographs that Molly and Jack had taped to the inside of the lid before she'd left, after she'd thought herself packed. Pictures of the three of them at a party, of her and Molly at work, of Jack trying to destroy the camera. An old photo, Molly when she was seven or eight, playing with the pancake batter that would forge their friendship; an older one, a three year old Jack running across a backyard, holding a toy airplane high above his head. One of herself, sleeping in one of the kitchen cupboards, a few days after Bicycle House had joined the ranks of the fraternity-elite, when they'd been working hard on moving in.

"I wish I knew how I felt," she whispered quietly, her eyes straying to the trinkets that the two had painstakingly glued: a well-worn cover to a book that had been loved to pieces, pages of other books Molly had introduced her to, favorite passages. Concert tickets; pins and patches from animes she'd hooked them on, from places they'd taken her. Her tassel, pocket lint that had Molly had scrounged from Jack's pocket, a shoelace he stolen from Molly.

"I know that," Gohan said quietly, watching her as her eyes lifted to the window.

She sighed, watching the sunrise outside. In every picture of Jack and Molly, Molly was oblivious, and Jack was so obviously in love with her. Of course she knew the truth…Molly wanted her to have Jack. Some strange reasoning that had never made sense to her, but that the rising sun had shed a little light onto: Molly was terrified of getting hurt. But she was more terrified of hurting Jack.

"But you can't expect him to," he added. There was no question about who He was.

"He won't wait forever, Pan," Goten added. Her face lowered towards her suitcase, eyes open but unseeing, settling on one of the pages Molly had glued inside. Everything seemed to sharpen in focus for him, centering on Sabriel, her black hair gleaming like a raven's wing in the afternoon sun. I love her, he thought. But if I say the wrong thing now, I may never…

She nodded once, her heart heavy.

"I know that."

Behind her, her father said something that she couldn't hear and wasn't meant to hear, and her uncle responded. A few more words, and the younger brother disappeared down the hall.

Moving the shirt to a place where it wouldn't get in the way, she reached for the next pair of jeans, but paused half an instant before two loving hands eased onto her shoulders, rubbing gently at her neck.

"I'm not running away, Daddy. I just…I want to know how I really feel. I know I care…but…love…" She shook her head lightly. "I mean…I always thought I knew…but it's…it's a big word…and I don't want to tell him that, only to turn around and hurt him when I realize that I don't."

"I know, Pan," he said quietly, gently massaging her shoulders as she placed a sweatshirt within. "None of us could ever blame you for running away, though. It's something all of us have done."

She laughed quietly, almost sardonically, dropping the last of her clothing within.

"I mean it, Sweetie," her father continued, turning her around to face him and pushing her into a sitting position on the bed. "Emotions are scary things-especially to a race that was never meant to have any."

He was only adding the confusion in her black sapphire eyes. He smiled and knelt before her, grasping both of her hands in his, the heals of his palms resting on her knees.

"Guys have a hard enough time with admitting we need someone or something, but it's nothing compared to being a saiyan. To a race that survived on pride and honor alone, emotions like love were seen as a weakness."

"But how come…I mean, anger makes us stronger…"

He shook his head, squeezing her fingers gently in his. "It's not anger that makes us stronger, Panny, although that's certainly the channel for it. No…it's love, really. When it all comes down to it, when most of us broke the barrier, we were protecting someone we care about, or protecting ourselves from the realization that we cared about someone. Your grandfather, when Krillin was killed, leaving Piccolo wounded and me almost defenseless. Trunks and Goten will never admit it, but they got themselves into a lot of trouble down in the valley one day when they were kids, and were both trying to at least get the other out. They have a self-sacrificing friendship; they're brother's in their own right in that they'll do anything to help each other-which is why the last few years have been so hard on both of them, and is probably why Trunks has been just as lost as you were when you left us the first time."

"What about you, Daddy?"

He smiled sadly. "Everyone I cared about was in danger from someone whom, by an intuition all his own, my father knew I had to stop."

"Cell?"

He nodded and squeezed her fingers again.

"What I'm trying to tell you, Sweetie, is that we all have a human need to love and be loved-being saiyan only makes it harder to admit it. Even to ourselves. I know you're not running away, you've done that already. We've all done it, and we all will. Whether we do or we don't is a losing battle that none of us can ever hope to win. Vegeta ran away, Trunks has been running, Bra is. I ran away, Goten's trying not to, you've done your running. Just know that your uncle's right. Trunks won't wait forever. He's waited four years for you to come home, knowing; and probably another five or ten waiting for you to grow up, waiting for himself to realize it. If you're gone too long this time," he added gently, rocking forward onto his knees, pulling her into a hug, "he might have run to somebody else by the time you get home."

She didn't say anything for a while, but then spoke quietly, holding him tightly, as if this was their good-bye.

"I'd be content to be his friend," she mumbled, her chin on his shoulder.

"But being content isn't always being happy," he replied quietly, rubbing her back as he stood, not quite ready to let go. "That's a lesson I almost lost your mother to."

She looked up at him as he let go, and he rubbed the top of her head.

"You should at least tell him why you're going, Panny. Don't leave him crushed for another girl to come by and pick up the pieces."

She smiled up at him lightly and he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, giving her fingers one last squeeze.

"What happened to me never going near him again?" she asked, a hint of a smile in her voice, some small fleck of fragile courage in her eyes that could easily be stepped on and destroyed. "Didn't you declare that to the stars in the middle of the night three days ago?"

"Just because you grew up doesn't mean I'm not your father, Panny. I had a little trouble remembering that. I just want to see you happy, Sweetie. I want you to be able to look back on your life without any regrets."

She watched him as he started towards the door, hands in his pockets, tail swishing slowly from side to side as he walked, looking relaxed-honestly relaxed for the first time since she'd come home.

"Daddy?"

He paused, holding the doorframe with one hand, looking over his shoulder at her.

"Hmm?"

"Do you have any regrets?"

He smiled. "Only that I was too busy being the father of a gorgeous little girl to see the beautiful young woman that she'd become before my very eyes." Her eyes shimmered with tears and he hesitated, about to walk back and embrace her one last time, but seeing the fragile courage in them, he stopped. He'd squash that one spark, and she'd either leave and stay gone too long, or she'd stay, and never say anything. "I love you, Sweetie. Always. Remember that."

She nodded, smiling through the tears that had no real need to fall.

"I love you too, Daddy. You're the greatest…you always will be."

He smiled and gave her a wink before walking back out into the hall.

And you'll always be my little girl, Pan pan.

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A/N: I absolutely love how you all just assumed something about my poor little Jack, and were so busy freaking out and hating him, that I don't think anyone who reviewed stopped to realize that he would have asked her to marry him, not just told her he wanted to get married. *shakes head* *Jack cowers behind his sign, swinging it at anything that gets near* Look what you did to my poor little muse! *loads her tranquilzer gun*

And by the way, if anyone's wondering, that quote is from Sabriel. My bible. You knew I'd have to quote it sometime. Go read that it already! If you've already read it, read it again!

-Panabelle ;P
All will be explained in time, and time has all but gone.