Author's Notes:Yeah yeah, finally got it out—took me long enough! Forgive my tardiness, but I've been slaving away on another little gem with everyone's favorite evil-cliffhanger authoress, Psycho Ann! We've got a joint-account under "Angst and Cliffhangers" (I know, describes us perfectly, right?) to post our fic we're working on together called "Parable of the Eagle". I highly encourage everyone who enjoys either mine or her fics (or both) to check it out! The first real chapter is about to be posted, and I feel very honored to be able to take part in the great plot she's got going. It's got angst, it's got cliffhangers, it's got Gohan/Videl, what more could you ask for?! So, as soon as you get done with this chapter, head on over and check it out (hey, this is my fic I'm putting this plug under, I'm allowed to push my chapter first)—you won't be disappointed!
P.S.: The chapter title was taken from a poem of the same title by Wallace Stevens, just to give credit where it's due.
Last time on It's a Start:
She'd tried raising them on the radio frequency reserved for members of the Satan household, but to no avail; all she was answered with was static. 'Maybe it's just the storm…' Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
*****
He listened more intently now, focusing his senses on the human he'd deduced to be the leader of the group.
"…them send in the report, Donovan. 'Satan, Videl: missing; Jane Doe: dead,' at 8:13 P.M…"
*****
'I merely want him not to interfere with my purpose on Earth—that is all I require. And with you here, I have a strong feeling he'll comply.'
Great, so she was blackmail material! No one treated a Satan this way—after all, her father had…oh, wait… "…And your purpose would be?"
*****
'Videl…forgive me…' He cast a quick glance at the image—she was now sitting in the middle of the floor, eyes shut as she massaged her temples wearily. "No—I know I'm fast enough."
*****
A tall figure blocked the doorway, then stepped through, forcing Videl to retreat a few feet, one hand clapped over her mouth as her voice shakily choked out, "…Go—Gohan…?"
"No…" he murmured, voice soft with shock at first as he viewed the false Gohan—this wasn't happening; he wasn't watching this happen! "No! Videl!"
It was just like then, just like before…so much like before. But this time, he was real, and she knew it. She couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't even bat an eyelash—and it was all his fault. Waltzing in through that door like nothing had happened, that annoyingly confident smile on his all too gentle features. Why did he have to have a face that innocent? Then he stopped and just stood there, arms at his sides, staring down at her and waiting for her to make her move.
Well, was that what he was waiting for? Then who was she to disappoint him?
Her strength suddenly surged in flood through her limbs which moments before had been as useless as wet noodles. It seemed to her as if her entire upper body had been shoved forward with a mighty thrust, which she had no power to resist, with his firm chest stopping her fall. He looked down at he girl leaning upon him, a bit surprised at the bold move, but relaxed as he noticed her burying her face deep in the folds of his gi, drawing in his scent as if it was her final breath…she wouldn't mind, had it really been her dying breath…it was him.
"You left me…you left…before…" she began softly, voice wavering, muffled by the dark fabric she'd surrounded herself with.
"…I know…I'm—sorry…" He was apologetic, and she gave an inward smile. It was so sweet, how he readily took the blame on his sturdy shoulders, no matter if it really was his fault or not. As long as everyone else—all those he cared for—was happy, she'd come to learn, he was happy.
She turned her gaze to the side, resting her head on his chest, and stared blankly at the cold tiled floor they stood on, just swaying with him for a few moments—nothing else really mattered. She might be in unfathomable danger, he might be in unfathomable danger…but he was here now, with her; whatever awaited them, they would face it together, as one. He would let nothing hurt her—this she believed, knew in the very depths of her soul. And in return for his comfort and security, she gave him her trust and strength. They would pull through—they had to, for life still held much for them. Her mental thoughts drew to a close, and she unconsciously concluded aloud, "I trust you… Gohan…" Her eyes slid shut, and she rocked to the rhythm of his heartbeat pounding in her ears. Thump, thump…
Dark eyes reflected a tiny flicker of light, then faded into coal blackness; though she'd not meant the comment to be heard by his sensitive ears, it hung in the air between them all the same. And it was with one simple phrase that he shot her confession to pieces:
"You shouldn't."
The words rang hollow in the empty room, reverberating through the walls surrounding them. Her eyes shot back open, worry clearly evident in the blue orbs, and she creased her thin eyebrows in startled confusion. She stopped rocking and pulled back slightly, arms still clasped at his sides, and looked into his face for answers. But none were etched thereon, and he merely returned to her a cold blank stare, which fell away the longer she fastened her gaze upon him.
"…Gohan…?" Did he…did he even realize what he'd just said? she wondered silently—had she heard correctly? Surely he… "W-what did y—"
"I said—" he interrupted swiftly, then seemed to catch himself out of character, and his voice softened. "I'm…I'm sorry, Videl."
Now her arms fell away fully, dropping back to her sides, and she found herself taking another tentative step back, eyes narrowing as she struggled for comprehension—he was so confusing! "…Sorry…about what?"
'Don't say it…' she begged silently, regretting she'd even asked the question, 'Don't answer me, don't answer…'
But he did. He did answer her. "I lied, to you…it was—it was a spur of the moment thing…I still don't know why I said it, but…" He looked up at her, surprised he was able to do the deed, opened his mouth slowly, and out rolled, "…I don't love you, Videl."
Had it been a bullet which had ripped through her frail body instead of his words, she would have been hurt no more. She thrashed about inside—he'd…lied? But, why? Why?! It—it made no sense…made no sense…
She wanted desperately to reply somehow, to yell, to scream, to plead, to question, but she couldn't pick any one action. They were all merging inside her head, and she couldn't discern one feeling from another. Here she was furious and wanted to slap him that very moment (not, she noted however, that it would do any good), while there she just wanted to curl up into a little ball in the corner and cry.
"I don't love you, Videl Satan," he repeated coldly, just in case she hadn't heard him the first time. "I can't love you…not you…"
Seemingly of its own accord, her mouth choked out, "…Can't? But you…all this time, you stayed with me…you came to me…" Another one of those unasked questions he seemed to be so adept at answering.
He shook his head in a gesture that could only be interpreted as one of pity, but his mouth fell into a deep frown, and his expression was quite grim, his eyes black pits. Her own eyes widened slightly in worry at this sudden change in demeanor. Normally… he was so gentle, but right now he looked almost… almost angry—at her? At something… and that thought alone was enough to send a shiver of unease down her spine.
"You misread me, completely—your interpretation of my emotions could not have been further from what they truly meant. I helped you, I trained you, yes—but my purpose lay in an entirely separate realm from love, Videl. I pitied you. Your weakness, your frailty, your humanity—perhaps even I pitied you for basking in the glow of the world's greatest lie your entire life, but rest assured it was never more than that."
His voice grew rougher and fiercer now, and he continued despite the horrified expression plastered upon her features. "Even now, here, I still pity you, for holding onto that vain hope in this…this prison—unrequited love…" He sighed. "It is the worst feeling in the world, I've been told, to feel so passionately for someone, and to then be confronted again and again with the assurance that they will never hold anything more than—well, in this case, pity for you."
He shook his head again, and there wasn't even the slightest hint of emotion in his confession. No remorse, no forgiveness-seeking tone, nothing. Had she been more in control of her wits, she might have been appalled that he wasn't even telling her he was sorry for this—for amusing himself with her emotions, for tugging at her strings, and for playing her so easily. No, the way he spoke, he would have hurt her no more had he merely sat back and laughed at her for actually believing he cared for her!
Though she didn't realize it at first, she found tears of rage stinging her eyes, and her earlier expression of worry shifted into one of heated rage and anger—how dare he! Here—wherever here was—here, of all places. Now, of all times! He was pouring out his confession here; couldn't he have at least waited until after he'd resc—wait…he was here to rescue her, wasn't he?
She scrunched her eyes, inadvertently squeezing out a few drops, and tried to drive away the thought by shaking her head clear. Even if…even if he didn't love her, he was still Gohan, and would still help her; after all, he was the reason she was here in the first place—she was his bait. Apparently the voice that had crawled into her head earlier was mistaken with regards to the Saiyan's feelings…
She kept her eyes closed as she slowly reached a trembling hand up to her cheek, gently touching her skin with her index finger and pulling it away, opening them now to stare at it—tears…she was crying; silently she cursed. Great, this was the last thing she wanted him witness to: another one of her emotional breakdowns. Too often she'd shown her true self to him, and now she was paying for it as he flung each and every episode back into her face with his cold words.
She had to forcedly will the tears to cease flowing, which—thankfully—they did, and the ones already gracing her flushed cheeks quickly hardened to salt crystals. She dared a glance up at him, eyes tracing the lines of his lower body, up over his chest, coming to rest on his face.
Relaxed, emotionless eyes; jaunty posture; and what could only be construed as…a smirk.
Yes, he was actually smirking at her, pleased. He'd been watching her intently, observing her reaction to the confession—and he'd liked what he beheld. The not-so-great Videl Satan, brought low, humbled by the world's true savior, and now ridiculed by him as well.
In a shocked voice, begging her statement to be wrong, she managed, "You…you aren't sorry…this—this amuses you!"
His face moved not an inch, yet his eyes glittered maliciously in their sockets, betraying the chord her words had struck inside of him. All he replied with was, "…Somewhat," and the smirk widened into an obvious grin.
Videl's face grew pale with checked anger, but she had had enough and restrained herself no more. "Why?! Why are you doing this? Does it make you happy? Why—!" But almost as soon as she'd begun the tirade, she stopped it, forcing herself to try and collect her thoughts. After a moment, she continued her questioning, this time in a soft, tired voice. "More lies, Gohan? Give me now, at least, the truth—please. I won't…I won't stand here and be the victim of your silent jokes any longer. Explain yourself, Son."
His face didn't change the whole time she'd been asserting herself—it was as if he found her vacillation between emotional states so entertaining he couldn't tear his gaze away for even a second. He wanted to catch every moment of her tragic fate laid out before him, which had been placed in his capable hands.
He granted her a small nod, though—his only acknowledgement he'd been paying any attention to her. He would give her the sole honor of humoring her request for reasoning behind his actions. Reaching a steady hand out to smooth away a strand of black which had fallen into her face, he began as if speaking to a very small child, explaining, "I never loved you, as I said before, Videl—and it was partly because I felt pity for you…only pity. But…it was more for the mere fact that I could never force my heart to care for the bestial hypocrite you've become."
A shocked gasp escaped her lips, and she shoved away his hand, which still lingered on her cheek, eyes narrowing in revulsion. He paid no attention to her actions, though, and continued in the same tone, unrifled. "No—not what you've become…what you've always been. You were the school bully when you were little, weren't you? That kid whom others fled before, unable to properly train yourself, so picking fights with those obviously weaker than you in a vain effort to gain strength—that was you, wasn't it? With a showy display of authority, you made sure early on that no one challenged your superiority. And friends—well, you had none, and for good reason. After all, what fool would consent to attach him or herself to the side of so contradictory a being as you?
"To some, as you grew older and fame came into your life, you were the shining star of justice, daughter of the world's savior, heroine to the downtrodden and oppressed. Wherever evil reared its ugly head, you were there to stop it. But then—I guess you always were the one to fight fire with fire, evil with evil, eh? I…I know the Videl you normally project to those not involved in public relations, to those who can't help you get ahead in life—to me. With the snippy comments, violent tendencies, the cold voice…and anyone who won't listen to you, who won't do as they're told, well…they'd better be pretty adept at defending themselves.
"I could never love you Videl…I would never want to."
She was absolutely speechless with shock…how could he…He? He was accusing her of lying, of portraying a false exterior, of being hypocritical? Of being two-faced? How?! He actually was two-faced! How could he accuse her of such a thing?! It boggled her mind!
He'd lied to her countless times since she'd met him, more perhaps than anyone she'd ever known—even her father, now that she thought about it. For Hercule's lie hadn't really hurt anyone (except, she pondered, maybe Gohan?), but the way Gohan had lied…the half truth's he'd told her, had hurt her, had damaged his seemingly faultless image in her eyes—she would never look at him the same when he lied.
He was the hypocrite, she declared to no one save the audience of her head, breathless with anger, eyes radiating fury. Still, still he was smirking at her display, still smirking… No matter how angry or confused or irritated she became, it seemed nothing moved him!
Argh, she could take it no more! She grabbed her head in frustration at the absence of choices left for her to take, and released a cross between a yell and a growl, almost primal in nature. Channeling her fury into one fist, she fired a punch forward into Gohan's waiting chest.
He easily swiped it away—Goten would've given him better sport than she—and batted not a lash, re-crossing his arms over his chest. Again, she tried, moving forward on this pass, and he repeated the same response, now mirroring her step forward with a step back of his own. Repeat, again, again, each blow filled with more hatred and frustration than the last, each deflected by the demi-Saiyan with the same blasé response. She knew, somewhere in the back of her mind she remembered, how futile her attacks were—at least when aimed at his chest. Half-way through the follow through of a punch she shifted her target to his face, and with a swift upward stroke, she knew she had caught him off guard. His smirk would fade as she connected, flesh to flesh, and she gathered her strength and fortitude once more.
Having expended his enjoyment of this activity, Gohan decided on a different route of deflection. He didn't merely toss away her blow this time. No—now he caught it deftly with little effort in his left palm, her white knuckles mere inches from his sculpted chin, smirk fading into a scowl.
She gaped like a fish at this sudden change in defense strategy, but quickly regained her wits enough to make an effort to retract her hand and start a new attack.
It would not, though, be moved from his fierce grip, and he silently drank in every drop of the fear which washed over her pallid face. She paled, and again she pulled, harder, pull! Nothing—he held her fast, frown deepening the more she struggled, eyes narrowing at her presumption—how dare she pull away? To assume, simply because he had been so easy on her before, that he'd go easy on her now…foolish—he'd have to teach her better.
Her brows pulled together in worry the more she pulled, and at one point she actually found herself trembling slightly—fearful for her life…
She'd never really been scared in her life, truly scared. She'd seen horror movies and been spooked, friends had surprised her before, but scared? Satans didn't get scared. The bus incident—however long ago that was—had been the first time she'd actually confronted the thought that she might not live to see another day, that this might be the end of her life. Only then had she really been frightened. Until now, that is…looking into his dark, empty eyes, knowing full well the power he had hidden deep within them…
As if reading her thoughts as they stumbled through her consciousness, he breathed out huskily into her ear in a voice so not his own, "Do you understand…how easy it would be for me to kill you, right now…? How little effort it would require for me to just…snuff out your life, so to speak?"
She no longer struggled—she no longer saw a point. If he were serious at all in the threat he was stepping around, then she certainly couldn't escape by resisting him. The Saiyan Gohan…he had asked her if she was afraid of him, and now… she regretted her response of "No"…That was well before this. Again he lifted his hand to her cheek, tracing a line down her jaw to the vulnerable flesh of her neck, eliciting chills which raised small bumps across her skin. This close…they were this close, and now all she felt for him was fear and hatred. Where had it changed? Where?
He gave a dry chuckle, pined almost, when she didn't answer his rhetorical questions. "You hate me now, don't you…?"
She hesitantly forced an action upon her head which she prayed would be interpreted as a nod—she assumed it did, for he offered a malignant smile and shook his head gently at her naïveté.
"No…you don't hate me. Yet."
She had only a split second to ponder the implications of "yet," when he grabbed her by the neck—to keep her from slumping to the floor—with the hand he'd been stroking her cheek with. His left now tightened its grip on her fist he still held fast in his grasp.
Tighter, tighter he squeezed, draining every emotion on the spectrum from Videl's face, and her mouth opened wide in a silent scream, eyes bulging wide at each crack and snap as another delicate hand bone was crushed by the demi-Saiyan's might. Pain spread like wildfire up her arm, then through to the rest of her body, and she vainly tried to slap her hand away from his—if it didn't work before, why should it work now?—an awkward task since he was still holding her up by the neck. As expected, it was to no avail.
He would not relent, even when she managed to voice her pain in a sad mixture of cries, pleas, and screams, punctuated here and there by a quick intake of breath and the sobbing of his name, "P-please…st—op it, Goh…" but she could never finish the supplication, so he continued to squeeze.
Even when she was certain her whole hand had been reduced to calcium powder, that not a bone was left and now a mere flesh bag lay at the end of her left arm, crushed, useless; he somehow found a new one each time, twisting and mangling it, and another crack would shatter the air, followed by more screams.
"You're starting to hate me now, I think…just starting…"
Oh, Kami, no… "just starting"—this was only the beginning! Her hand was completely mutilated, destroyed, she knew…but it was only a hand. He was going to…do this to her…whole body?! The mere thought of the pain entailed therein sent another storm of terrified tremors through her form, as if in epileptic shock.
Dreams: the gods' most precious gift to mankind—the closest any mortal may ever come to achieving haven on earth. In dreams, even your wildest fantasy can become reality, and all that seems impossible suddenly becomes possible. Ah, what a blessing!
However…this gift was not given free of conditions. In accepting the endowment of the ability to dream, mankind was also forced to come to grips with the fact that whenever you dream, it always has the potential to become…a nightmare.
And you can't stop them, no matter your strength; you can't avoid them, no matter your speed. They are the deep shadows cast by dream light, the inescapable dark side of sleep. The only consolation present is that all nightmares, like all dreams, have an eventual end, and you wake up, safe in your own bed, with the sun shining brightly outside and breakfast cooking on the stove; it was only a bad dream.
Wasn't it?
Nightmares…do end, right? Right?
Gohan wasn't so sure this one would ever end. Before he even realized what had happened, as if some alien force had overtaken his body and was puppetting him along, he had blasted forward, breaking up the image screen. He slammed fist-first into the short yellow wizard, hurtling him to the ground, a knee on his chest while he raised one arm threateningly into the air, fingers twitching with deadly intent. His other fist had found its way to the wrinkled neck, tightening his fingers around the flesh with no signs of stopping even as the alien cried out and feebly slapped at his sturdy arms—the only dilemma in Gohan's mind right now was deciding, "Rip off his head, or simply blast it to oblivion?"
Right, rip it off—it'd be much slower.
"Where. Is. She?" he growled in short sharp bursts, punctuating each word with another squeeze of his grip around the neck, and he shook him slightly. "You'd better stop this right now, or so help me I'll pop your bald little head wide open like a nut." Another squeeze let the wizard know this was no idle threat.
Babidi's eyes were wide—both from the pressure and the shock—and yet still he managed to collect himself enough to try and regain the upperhand, and hissed, "You do that, and the girl dies anyway…"
Mere curiosity at the validity of the new hazard was all that stopped Gohan from following through on his threat, and he relaxed his grasp the tiniest bit, the cue for the wizard to continue should he value his insignificant life. "My ship, buried below us, is a veritable maze—and even after I'm gone, that illusion will live on. He'll kill her long before you reach her, boy."
Babidi apparently knew just how to play his words, for even now he sensed the energy dissipating in the demi-Saiyan's raised hand, power fleeing the fingers which had been so ready to strike him down. "Release me, boy, if you're not going to kill me—which I think you won't, now—and we may begin our negotiations."
Gohan's vision blurred, and he shook his head a bit, snapping from a reverie of indecision, and he stammered out, "N—negotiations?" His hand fully relaxed and he pulled back, standing and releasing the short wizard. Taking a few tentative steps back, still wary, he let his hands fall away to his sides.
"I have something you want, and you have something I want." He dusted off his long robes. "It seems a simple trade is in order, don't you think?"
…A trade? 'Humor him,' he told himself, 'See where he goes with it,' and with that he plastered a determined frown back onto his bewildered features. "And what of mine would you have me give?"
Babidi's wrinkled yellow lips curled upward into a devious grin—here was the moment for which he'd been preparing for so very long: "Just your energy, my boy. Just your energy. Let me assure you, it won't even be a massive enough drain to leave you light-headed—a quick sip and you'll be immediately reunited with your…friend in there."
"Who'll only be too happy to see you, I'm sure," the South Kai added in a sly undertone from Babidi's side, chuckling slightly at the prospect of the reunion.
Gohan's eyes fell away in deep thought, as if he were truly contemplating the proposal. Just how terrible could this monster, this Buu be? Would it be too much for him to handle alone?—more than likely not. Wouldn't he rather just comply now, save Videl, and take his chances with the beast? Perhaps…it certainly wasn't an all that repulsive idea…
Seeing the mental battle his fighter was waging—he was actually thinking about agreeing?!—the Supreme Kai didn't hesitate another moment and swiftly entered the demi-Saiyan's mind, hoping to snap him back to his senses.
'Gohan—Gohan! Listen to me, and listen well.' The boy grunted slightly at the intrusion, but the god continued regardless. 'Whatever you're thinking about doing, whatever it is, abandon it! You absolutely cannot agree to Babidi's demands—you can't even begin to comprehend the monster he's going to unleash with your energy. Gohan—!'
He knew, deep down, he knew he shouldn't, couldn't, mustn't give in—he felt how wrong it was to let the evil win. Argh, these emotions! Yes, he had been entrusted with the power to save his world, not condemn it to fire and brimstone, as the Supreme Kai was saying would happen if he should comply. But—he…he couldn't see any other choice! It was all her fault; he wouldn't even be acting this way if not for her, and the Supreme Kai knew this.
'Gohan,' he began again after taking a moment to calm himself and formulate an argument. 'Gohan—you want to save her, I know…but, sometimes—sometimes there are more important things to take into account, more precious things at stake. The universe Gohan. Will you gamble away the universe for one life?'
But she…she is the universe, he wanted to retort. She is—her bottomless blue eyes are the vast expanse of nothingness between systems, dotted here and there with supernova stars, her laughter echoes across the galaxies, and all life is contained in her soul. You have your universe, Kai. Let me have mine.
With each second that ticked by, the god grew more and more desperate, knowing full well how close Gohan was to slipping over the edge—their only weapon in this war was soon to be lost if he didn't somehow convince him to make the right decision. He racked his mind for something to dangle over the boy…something… 'Gohan—your planet's guardians…they informed me earlier of the existence of talismans known as "Dragonballs"; you know of them, don't you? And of their uses?' No visible response was given. 'You do know of them! Think—even if she dies, she can still be brought back! You've no reason to follow through with his plan!' He felt a bit strange bringing up this option, inadvertently breaking the Kais' rules, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and he'd never been more desperate. 'Now what will you do? Through both ways she can live, but only by one can the rest of the universe live as well—what will you do, Gohan?!'
He was shaking, shaking with fear, shaking with anger, shaking—and absolutely appalled at the Kai's suggestion.
He should…let her die? Let her just die?! How, how could he ask that of him? How could he even suggest that course of action? Gohan would admit, with no qualms whatsoever, that he would sooner cut himself down—in the most horrific way possible—than see Videl suffer. She was, to him, frail, weak, human…he wanted nothing more than to be there to protect her. But, wanted that more than to protect the planet, though?
What did the Kai know of death? He'd never experienced it—so how could he ask Gohan to consent to allowing her to die?! The hypocrite…One death had already been allowed so that he might be able to save this planet—seven years had done little to heal that wound. So…would he sacrifice another? Would he put her through the pain of dying—at "his" hands, no less—could he?
He suppressed a dry laugh as he turned round to stare at her image—fully repaired from his barreling through it earlier—and his eyes unconsciously watered, blurring everything together. It really was him in there, his hands snapping her bones like dry timber, his elbow severing her spinal cord, his eyes…watching her watching him, full of fear and confusion, anger, acceptance that yes, she was about to die, killed by the one she would have spent a lifetime with.
The image was no longer an illusion of Babidi's—he was going to kill her, to condemn her to the chains of death. In the end, it was always all his fault.
But—but, I'm sorry. Don't look at me that way, I'm sorry! Understand it has to be this way, even though I would have gladly had it that way. Gladly…but he stopped me, and I'm sorry.
I would have saved you, spared you, Videl—you know, deep down, I would've. I would've given up my life for, if only to save just yours. No pain, no hurt, no death, I would've done it. I would've beat it.
It should've been "happily ever after," you know, and now I can see clearly how naïve I was for trying to reach that plateau. You opened my eyes, and for that I apologize.
So just lie down and close your eyes, go to sleep, it's time to die. It won't hurt, I don't think—I wouldn't know, really, I haven't died before. But I hear it's not that bad, and I promise you'll be back soon, and then we'll start again right where we left off.
But first, I'll say I'm sorry. "Sorry for killing you."
This isn't how it was supposed to be, you know. I think I told you that before…and I don't take drastic changes very well. I said I loved you. I kissed you—that's when you're supposed to say you love me, and kiss me back.
I could see you with me, I could see us smiling, I could see so far into the future that now feels like ages ago—it was just a bad dream, that's all. You, me, us, alive, happy, love. That's how it's supposed to be, so how dare them for throwing it off balance.
I shouldn't be here, killing you, with you killing me. "Killing" shouldn't even be anywhere on the horizon unless we're killing time. But instead, something went wrong somewhere, and I'm standing here apologizing for what I'm about to do. Hey, have you met my dad? You will—you two have a lot in common: I killed you both.
Oh but no, no, don't cry—it's for a good reason. They all die for a good reason, you know. Always to save the universe and you're coming back, so it's alright.
Oh no…no, you're crying! Don't cry—it's only death. And I'm sorry it has to be me to kill you, but it won't be forever, and it won't hurt—much.
You said you weren't afraid of me, that if you were afraid, you wouldn't have come looking for me. Well, you found me, Videl, here I am, here to kill you. Do you stand by that statement still? Do I scare you now?
I'm sorry if I do. I'm sorry if I ever have to look down into your eyes and see fear, sorry for the pain and hatred I've given you, when all I wanted to do was love you…sorry for killing you.
You should meet my dad, Videl. He can explain it better than me. Tell him hi for me—oh, and tell him I'm sorry for killing him too.
All light and life seemed to face from the angry black eyes, and his audience could almost see all inhibition slipping away from his form. The dark sky above crackled, split with even more bolts of lighting, as if mirroring the inner turmoil of the Saiyan. Emotion fell away, forgotten, unwanted, unneeded, shed like a second skin. The only thought that was left in his mind was voiced in a booming echo for all present to hear.
"I'm sorry for killing her. But I will not be sorry for killing you, Babidi. Prepare yourself."
Post-Chapter Notes: *wipes forehead* whew, finally got it! Ok, sorry that took so long, but I've been working on other projects, too! Now that you've read it, you know the drill—let me know what you think! And, you'll be pleased to know, I've already got some of chapter 14 written out (it flows very nicely from 13, so I couldn't just stop right when I finished this chapter), so it won't be as long in coming as this one (*crosses fingers* hopefully…) I'll be gone from May 30-June 7, so if you send me an e-mail, I'll respond ASAP. Wanna be on the mailing list? Drop me a line at orofangwen@fr.st, and I'll get right on it! Thanks again for your support!—sage