Author's Notes: Well... heh. ^_^ This chapter is a bit longer than usual; I'm sure you all aren't complaining about that, unless you're in a hurry and can only read a little bit, in which you might be left at a cliffhanger and would have to wait until you could once again sit down and-- yeah. I ramble. Anyway, BWHAHA! I've been waiting the entire story to write this chapter! ^_^ I have to admit, in the ending scene, it's... I dunno. It's just different. Tell me how I did there, please, and if they're both still in-character for what I've already done to the poor bastards, yah? ^^;; As I wrote this, my SD Mirai Trunks and Juunanagou cowered in their respective closets. I think it might have been my cackling.

Thanks to anyone who's reviewed and put this story on their favorites lists!! @_@ Seriously, I wasn't expecting this to be all that popular, and while it's still not as big as, say, some of the V/Bs out there, I think it's doing pretty damn good with the reviewers. o_0;; You surprise me and flatter me at the same time. I am humble and bow to you, o' mighty reviewers, for you are-- uh-- I dunno. You just are. ^_^

Because I'm nice, I'm gonna mention names. ^_^ Thanks to: HaloGatomon, Raidne the Silent Siren, Yami Kaosu, leelee, Rez, newtypeshadow, sumsum, lime, Mazianz39, Hotaru-chan6666, and asprodrakos! *BREATHE* You all just rock. ^_^ If there's anyone else I forgot to mention, please forgive me. I am very much thankful for your presence and review, even if your name isn't up there!

Enjoy reading!

"All You Have"

~chapter seven~

by: Rosalyn Angel

I had my old clothes back. For that, in some deep recess of my mind, I was glad. But mostly I was silently fuming, sitting on the couch and dramatically slouched with crossed arms. I almost looked like I was pouting. That's close enough anyway.

So the whole revenge thing wasn't entirely what I had considered it to be. Maybe it was just me having a grudge at you, not completely for murdering my sister, but also for making me feel comfortable living with you. Oh, look. You kind of felt the same way. Twins with different blood, indeed.

Normal. It was normal for me to be sleeping under the same roof as you. If I tried somewhere else, it would feel weird and I would probably notice how much the bed squeaked. I hate it when the bed is all creaky; it keeps me awake since I toss and turn quite a bit--

I'm off-topic again. Yeah. I know...

Anyway, right then, thinking was a bad thing to do. I could have discovered another truth I didn't want to mull over. So I eventually concluded to turn on the radio, hoping that drama thing was over. Sure thing it was, but music wasn't playing. Actually, nothing was. It was only incoherent static that made my eyes cross from the high annoyance factor, so I clicked it off and once again pouted. At least I had my old clothes back.

Cue boredom. Cue boredom-induced humming. Cue grumpy demi-Saiyan from behind, scowling and snapping to "shut up."

I sighed. The house was quiet and you kept on walking, probably heading into the kitchen. I bet you were hungry and intended to make a snack or even a meal. My mouth began to water at the mental image of food, ranging from meat to vegetables to... meat again. I stood to follow you so I could sneak in a bite, but stopped in my tracks when I heard your soft curse. Soon enough you reappeared in the doorway, an accusing look across your face as usual.

"We're low," you said, knowing I would understand what we were low on. "I'm going out to restock. You don't leave this house or touch anything." You turned, but paused to look over your shoulder, your long hair shadowing your face. "And stay out of my room."

I smiled despite my inner troubles and gave a little wave to you as you exited. I felt your ki jump as you flew into the air, no doubt trying to hurry. Of course I could go out and start killing people... but that wasn't normal anymore, and I liked being alive still. Instead I stayed in that house, humming a song or two, and walked around aimlessly. Being me, of course I went into your room and moved around a few books to see if you would notice that they had been tampered with.

I poked around your wooden desk, opening its drawers and flipping through some of the papers scattered across it. It seemed as though you were quite the one for writing and literature, because you had written several poems and short stories. Perhaps your mother had tried to teach you science and math, but you hadn't been interested in those subjects and focused on the art of language.

I hadn't really read any before, but since the radio was just static, I figured it would cure my boredom. I flipped through a few papers and pulled out one that seemed intriguing. The paper was new and recent, still in good condition, unlike a large number of the others. Your handwriting was scrawled across it in a frenzy, as if the pen had been too slow for your thoughts.

"I don't know what I'm doing," it read. "This is insane. He should be dead, right? By my hand. He and his sister killed everyone! Gohan, my mothe--" The ink of the pen was smeared there, as if water had been dripped onto it. "Dear God, I'm so selfish... but I wouldn't be able to stand how silent it would be with no one around. You understand that, don't you, mother? Please understand... I'm not as strong as everyone thought I am. I have a weakness, a need for company and people around me, people that I know and--" Another smear, larger than before.

I found my eyes pausing at that point, not reading on and instead stuffing the paper back into the drawer. My educated guess was that that particular journal entry was from the night so long ago, when I had heard you wailing but your door had been locked. Sure, you weren't a magnificent writer, but for daily thoughts, you conveyed them well enough. Those thoughts just happened to be pained ones. Not like I cared; I just had nothing better to do.

I got tired of shifting through papers that generally all looked the same-- same type of material, same handwriting, same pain. So I walked out and then into the infamous living room, where I found the Metal Wristband of Doom still laying rejected near the wall it had been smashed against. I stood over it, showing just who was superior after you had deactivated it.

Now, I wondered, just why did you risk leaving me alone in your house without any restriction on my power? You knew I could skip around outside and blast a few humans, but yet you still left. It couldn't be that you trusted me, far from it. Maybe you too had a mutual (though rough) understanding of this: if I wouldn't kill people, you wouldn't kill me. I had tested your side many times before and it was proven, for I was still alive. If you considered the old Juunana to be still alive, that is.

I snorted. I hadn't changed; my surroundings had. I adapted, that's all. I'd always be an unfeeling bastard, that's how my mind went. My sister's death and then suddenly living with you had occurred too quickly. That had been the first time I remember my surroundings changing, so I wasn't entirely sure if I was handling it right. The only thing I had to guide me was my animal instinct to survive and keep myself occupied. That, I was doing well enough. Both requirements had been met, so I supposed I should just lay back in my new life and forget I ever had another one. It was easier that way.

My sneaker hovered over the wristband. My hands were still in my back pockets as I balanced myself gracefully on one foot, contemplating. Perhaps you knew I had come to such a conclusion and figured I wouldn't do anything like smack humans around. True, the urge to kill them was still there, but that was in the past. I didn't do that anymore. Killing them would remind me of Juuhachi, and that much thinking isn't good for anyone, as I usually say.

So, maybe you thought you had a bit of power over me for making me consider this new life normal, and that was why you left me alone.

My brows knitted. The hovering sneaker soon crunched down on the wristband, gently at first, then with increasing force. I heard it metallically whine as it was flattened into the carpet. It was such a weak thing; how dared it control me for so long...

... yeah, I know. I change topics when I don't want to delve into something.

******

It was dark before, the man thinks, but now the scenery is almost invisible. The stars do not shine because of the clouds spreading across the night sky, and the moon tries to hide from him. The snow covers his vision, an odd fluttering white against black. He kneels down in the snow, his jeans growing damp and his blue jacket tightly wrapped around him. Then he reaches out a hand as if to touch an object, but hesitates, and his hand falls back onto his lap once more.

******

It was then when I felt a nearby disturbance. Apparently you had returned, and I supposed that was a good thing. I wanted to taste some of that stuff you bargained from the salvagers. It wouldn't be anything grand. It was most likely canned food. But I guess that was my own doing, cutting down the economy and all.

I took one last glance at the wristband before burning it to ashes with energy. There was nothing left except a scorched ring on the carpet. You would probably get on my case about that later, but oh well. No big deal. Not giving it any further thought, I sauntered over to greet you by immediately grabbing some of the food, but apparently you hadn't come inside yet. I groaned impatiently and leaned against the wall next to the door to the outside, my foot tapping.

Strange. I didn't feel any ki--

I yelled in surprise. Before I could react, a clawed hand had literally torn through the wall, causing bits of plaster to float down around me, and grabbed me by my throat. First thought was that people seemed to enjoy choking me. Second was that it wasn't you.

"Juunana..." a rough, scratchy voice muttered, heard through the newly formed hole in the wall which was large enough only for the stranger's hand. "I finally found you..."

I gagged then tore myself away from the grip, flipping around, just in time to avoid a pointed tail smashing through where my back had been. The wall cracked considerably from the holes, dust picking up which stung my eyes, until a good portion of it crumbled to the floor in hunks of debris. The site which welcomed me-- I couldn't describe it any other way except: it was a big, really ugly, green bug.

"Ahh..." the green bug sighed as if relieved. "My long search is over... Tell me, Juunana, where is the other? Where is Juuhachi?"

I growled, rubbing my throat. If it wasn't you, it was something with sharp claws. "Care to tell me what the hell you are first?" My icy eyes carefully observed the thing. It looked like it had an exoskeleton of green with black spots, a brown beak for a mouth, and weird horns sticking out of its head. I couldn't help but give a funny face for my disgust.

"Cell," it said. "I am Cell, a superior being, and you and your sister belong to me..."

Not only did his (I guess) appearance hurt my eyes, but his voice was downright annoying. "Huh," I spat, shifting into a battle stance. "Last time I checked, I belonged to no one, especially after I killed Doctor Gero. Am I gonna have to dispose of you, too?"

Cell grinned dementedly, his long slithering tail, with what looked like a stinger at the end, twitching behind him. "But first, where is Juuhachi? Tell me, why don't you? I have waited long enough."

I snorted. "She's dead."

The creature paused, cat-like eyes stretching out wide. "How? Impossible!"

I thought that once, too.

I couldn't answer because Cell charged at me with a frustrated growl, his three-toed feet making squeaky noises whenever they touched down. I would have laughed, but I had to jump back to avoid the swipe of his tail. I didn't want to come into contact with that stinger. I also didn't want to come into contact with you after you saw what happened to your wall, so I quickly flew out of the hole and went straight into the bright blue sky. Cell followed.

I looked down as I blasted up in a trail of white energy, my black hair blowing around my face with a will of its own. Scowling, I tossed down several shots of ki to shake Cell off, but he just knocked them all to the side effortlessly, causing them to make dents in the land below. I winced. That was your yard; and I had left the house, messed up your room, and scorched the carpet. I was really asking for it, but at the time, I was more concerned with the green bug.

"Why do you run?" Cell laughed. "Are you afraid?"

That got me to stop with a frown. He ceased flying a few feet below me. "Of an oversized roach? Yeah, right."

Cell smirked, his pink eyes glinting dangerously. "Very well."

He was so fast; I almost didn't have time to block. But I did, and was forced to take the defensive side. He used all of his limbs, including his tail, to attack. That made it difficult to parry both arms and legs with my own and simultaneously evade the stabbing tail. I was then thankful for my endless energy supply, but was starting to curse at my inability to counterattack. It wasn't possible that this... thing was stronger. First you, then this?

I hated change. Oh-so much.

I mistook a punch for a move to kick, and ended up getting a fist right in my face. I was knocked back, spiraling, but Cell caught me by the collar of my shirt, his tail wrapping around my waist to trap me. I struggled, my legs immobile, alternating my fists to punch. He caught all of them with one hand. Then, without my knowledge, the stinger of his tail opened wide above my head.

"Bye-bye, Juunana."

I turned my head around and my mouth hung open, unable to utter a word. Inside that stinger which spread out like a cup was pitch-black, an ongoing dark void which no doubt led into Cell's body. Did he intend to put me in there!?

Just then, I was never so happy to see you.

"Cell!" you yelled in a strong voice, dropping the food bags you held. They dropped to the ground, scattering. "Let him go!"

"Hm..." Cell trailed off, as if he was searching through his own mind. "Trunks, yes. You... you killed Juuhachi, didn't you? But why not this one, too?" he mumbled. "No matter... I'll find a way to become perfect..."

You breathed deeply, flitting your eyes between the tail and me. It was still wrapped around my waist and constricting, bruising my ribs and sending a jolt of pain through me. I heard myself chuckle at the irony; it was like the snake tightening itself around my insides.

The opened stinger flashed down. I heard your muffled shout, but after that, there was nothing.

I woke to the sound of clothes, or just cloth, ruffling, almost in a rhythmical pattern. At this point, my mind was fuzzy and I couldn't register if I was either alive or dead, or what the difference even was. I guessed if I was dead, then my sister would be snapping at me as soon as my eyes opened, but she wasn't; thus I was alive.

I emitted something between a moan and a curse and blinked my eyes several times. It was a familiar ceiling, I noted, and it happened to belong to your living room. Specifically, it was the white ceiling right above your couch. I had spent many hours on that couch. Perhaps too many.

I sluggishly turned my head, just feeling how tangled my hair was. A rinse would do it good, but it wasn't required. A brush would suffice. However, that idea quickly eluded me when my eyes focused, and I saw you sitting on the opposite side of the room, on the floor, faced away from me. To your right was an assortment of medical supplies-- small trinkets, really. I had no wounds on my body, save a few bruises, from the fight against the creature called Cell--

Cell? Yeah, Cell. What had happened? I remembered you shouting and there being nothing but black around me... but that was all. The logical explanation would be (taking the facts that I was alive and Cell was absent) that you had fought and won.

But that didn't seem right; I had already been entrapped in that hideous tail. In order for me to be alive, you would have actually had to save me. Why not just let me die at the hands of Cell so you could get rid of me without having to do it yourself? You hated me, didn't you? It would have been easy to watch me die and then dispose of Cell, then you would have been android-free. You wouldn't have had to live with the fact that you had killed your only means of pressing back the silence, me.

Or was I thinking too much in the past? I was; because I now knew that you were as deep in as I was, and you wouldn't freely allow things to change so suddenly. Everything had to remain as it was. Meaning I was to stay in your house and be me, while you felt ashamed and were you. It wasn't ideal, but I don't think either of us could have been able to handle another change very well, so we clung together and satisfied each other's needs to go on living, however content or miserable our lives were.

I rested my eyes on your skin, noticing the lack of a shirt (it was discarded near the first aid kit) and that your strong arms held a roll of gauze. After placing a bottle of disinfectant down, you began, with both hands, wrapping the light-colored, heavy bandage around your abdomen. There was already one layer around your chest. I had most likely woken up to its weaving.

You were quiet and I made not a sound. I believe the room was deathly quiet, but I couldn't help it. I was still dazed from coming out of my unconscious state, and the movement of your hands juggling the roll of gauze around and around your waist was memorizing. I think I spaced out, but not for long, because I sat up and was in control of my body once more.

Sitting up allowed my vision to have a new angle, and I saw blood staining the bandages in your front, two large patches of red, one on your chest and one on your stomach. The higher wound must have been shallow because it didn't bleed nearly as much as the lower. I blinked more, and my mind clicked.

You must have gotten hurt while-- I winced at the term-- saving me.

Of course you would have a difficult time trying to protect my limp self while still keeping your eye on Cell. You never had to protect and fight at the same time before (well, not in such a manner where the one you were protecting was being sought after) so it probably led to a few mistakes on your part. All of this gave way to one realization:

You could have died.

I didn't think I would care, at least if it had happened earlier. But at that point in time, it made a cold uncertainty settle itself into my gut. You could have died, like Juuhachi did. Once again, "normal" would have vanished and change would have occurred. I didn't want that to happen; I hated change. Everything had to remain as it was.

The thought of you dying left me to blank. It wasn't for the fact that you could have died; it was for the truth of where that event would leave me. I would once again have lost my twin, and this time, there would be no one to fulfill that role. I would be alone. You were all I had.

All I had.

I remember precisely what words went through my head, every last one of them. Even though at the time my mind was hazy and I really shouldn't recall it so clearly, I know every last sound and movement and color; it's all stamped on my brain, that particular scene is, no matter how hard I've tried to forget it.

My limbs moved by themselves as I walked, or rather staggered, over to you. I saw you stiffen, your fingers digging into the roll of bandage, and I kneeled down behind you, neither of us speaking. Even as the blood continued to stain the bandage farther, you made no move to stop it, and instead tried to concentrate on breathing. I glanced down at the red substance, still fresh (had I not been unconscious long?) and vaguely wondered if you could still die from blood loss. I couldn't let you die.

Why are you just letting it bleed like that? I thought. Don't you know what would happen if you died? I would be left with a world that is no longer fun because I have no one to kill humans with, and an empty house with no one to tease. Do you realize how much I would have to think? Selfish fool, you can't just die and do that to me. I won't allow it, I thought, I won't allow it.

My hands snatched the bandage from you and, mimicking your actions, began to weave it around and around your waist, having to lean forward so to pass it from hand to hand in the front. You seemed like you didn't know how to react. It might have appeared like an act of kindness to you, but you misunderstood; I was just making sure what was mine didn't die.

"That's enough," you softly said, and I stopped weaving. You ended the bandage and clipped it down securely, dropping the roll into the kit and closing the lid. You never looked back. Or maybe you did. I couldn't quite tell because your lavender hair hid your face. I like your hair, I monotonously thought, so don't change it.

You began to stand, but I wouldn't let you. I reached up, my hands pressing down on your shoulders, and made you sit in your previous position. My arms slithered around yours then down your chest, careful to avoid the wound, locking you in your place. You couldn't get away, I knew, and it wasn't because of my strength. You sat, stunned, and tried to figure out what was going on.

Did my half-lidded, delirious eyes pierce into the back of your skull? Did my hands burn you like dried ice? Did you suffer, o' beautifully hateful one, your eyes swirling with mixed and confused emotions?

Don't change, I mentally pleaded, because you're so enticing that way. Keep your hair at its length and your emotions in your eyes and your blood in your veins, and stay alive, because I hate change. Don't be a selfish fool, and do as I say.

I don't know what came over me. I was desperate to cling onto the only thing I had left, my twin, my mirror opposite, mine, mine, mine...

I leaned forward, bringing my lips to your ear and breathing hotly onto your skin. You tensed under my firm hold. I whispered only one word:

"Mine."

~end of chapter seven~