As some of you may know, I'm archiving my old fanfics and saving this account for the new ones. I am actually going to keep this one up, not because it's one of my best works or that it even comes close to the level of writing I do now. I am keeping this one up because it really is a breakthrough fanfic. It's my first fanfic that has a solid plot, a plot that I wouldn't mind using today. It also has solid characterization and characters that are realistic.

I was fourteen when I began to write this. Re-reading it I forgotten how much I knew at the age of fourteen and how much I had gone through. There is a rape scene in this fanfic that kills me to read today, not because I'm disturbed by rape scenes but because I can't believe my fourteen year old self wrote it. I think that is another reason I am keeping this up, it was written during a turning point in my life.

Summary: Trunks gets involved with drugs and alcohol and things start getting really out of control. Please read and review. Oh, and yes, this is AU.

Ages: Trunks - 13, Goten - 13, Marron - 12, Pan - 12, Bra - 6.

CHAPTER 1

"Trunks! Get up, it's time for school!" Bulma screamed.

When no reply was heard from her 13-year-old son, she walked into the bedroom she shared with her husband and shoved him out of bed. Vegeta looked up at his wife from the floor, glaring. "Vegeta," she ordered, "get Trunks out of bed!"

Vegeta frowned and covered his ears. "Woman, I am not Death, but you sure as hell are trying to make me be."

Bulma just ignored him and pointed to the door. "Go get Trunks out of bed. Now."

Vegeta grunted but got to his feet and walked out of the room. As he entered Trunks's room, he smirked at the sleeping boy and barely had to touch him to knock him out of his bed. Trunks cried out in pain as his head hit the barbell set up at the foot of the bed. He sat up, rubbed it tenderly, then shook his head a few times to make sure everything was still intact. He looked up, not entirely surprised to see his father with a huge smirk on his face.

Trunks rolled his eyes and forced a smile. "Well, good morning to you, too, Dad."

Vegeta was still smirking, obviously amused. "The woman said to get up." Not waiting for a reply, he abruptly turned and left, leaving an extremely pissed off Trunks behind.

After steaming for about five minutes, Trunks got himself up and dressed and went downstairs. His mother was in the kitchen making what smelled like eggs and bacon. His assumption was confirmed when Bulma handed him a plate of food, smiling brightly. "I hope you're hungry," she told him.

Trunks shock his head and handed her the plate back. "It looks great, Mom, but I'm not really in the mod to eat. Thanks anyway, Mom. I think I'll just go to school." He gathered his things up. "I'll either eat when I come home or just bum some food off of my friends. Bye."

Bulma watched as her son left, a confused expression crossing her face.

The flight to school was short and uneventful, but Trunks was happy to see his long time friend Goten just outside the building. He was talking to someone, but Trunks couldn't tell who until he landed. Apparently, it was the new cheerleader, Becca.

Trunks crept up behind his friend and put a hand on his shoulder. "So, Goten, I see you're making a new friend?"

Goten turned and smiled. "Oh, hey, Trunks! What's up? Have you met Becca?"

Trunks nodded. "Yeah, I've seen her cheerleading. I must say, she's pretty good."

Becca smiled flirtatiously at Trunks and stepped over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Why, thank you, Trunks," she told him. "You know," she added in a low voice, "I can do a lot of things with my body. Maybe one day I'll show you."

Trunks smiled back. "Maybe."

Goten rolled his eyes and grabbed Trunks by the arm, ushering him into the school building. "You know, you're really crampin' my style," he scolded him, half-joking. "Jeez, they all want the pretty boys."

For hours on end, the two boys had to listen to their teacher, Ms. Shane, drone on and on about math and English and the like. They were glad when the bell finally rang and they could go home. They two boys exchanged their goodbyes and flew off in separate directions.

When Trunks arrived home, he heard a lot of yelling. When he walked into the kitchen, sure enough, Vegeta and Bulma were arguing, probably over something stupid, like their fights usually were. He tried to leave, but Vegeta grabbed his arm. "Brat," he said in a stern voice, "Training, Gravity Room, ten minutes. Don't you dare be late." He let him go and went back to arguing with his wife.

Trunks ran upstairs to get his training gear only to find Bra in his room playing with his action figure collection on his bed. "Bra, damn it, how many times have I told you not to touch my stuff!" he yelled, grabbing his sister and throwing her off the bed.

Bra started to cry loudly, and Bulma came running into the room. She picked up her daughter and kissed her on the forehead, attempting to soothe her. "Now, now, calm down, sweetheart. Tell me what happened."

Bra at her eyes, sniffled, and pointed to Trunks. "He pushed me."

Bulma frowned and turned her gaze to her son. "Trunks, why did you push you're sister?" she demanded.

"Mom, you always take her side!" he complained loudly. "Everything is always my fault! What the fuck is up with that?"

Bulma smacked him across the face. "How dare you talk to me like that! I'm your mother; you are to treat me with respect!"

"Bra comes into MY room, messes with MY stuff, and I'M the one getting yelled at?" he went on, barely fazed by the slap. "Go figure!"

Bulma frowned. "Perhaps I should let your father handle this." She took Bra's hand and walked out of the room. Trunks sat down on his bed and attempted to fix the toys that Bra had broken. "Damn, I'm going to need some super glue," he muttered to himself.

Barely five minutes had passed when Vegeta came in, a smirk on his face.

Trunks gulped quietly. He knew what that smirk meant. He backed as far away from his father as he could, laughing nervously. "Um... Hi, Dad."

Vegeta's smirk remained. "Looks like I got a new punching bag for today."

Trunks couldn't help shivering at his father's words. "Look, Dad," he started to explain, "Bra came into my room and..."

"Save it, boy," Vegeta cut him off. "Get into the Gravity Room."

Trunks, not wanting to make the situation any worse for himself, obediently followed his father downstairs and into the Gravity Room. He stood in the center of the room, waiting to see what his father would do.

Vegeta sealed the door and went to the control panel, setting the gravity at 500.

Trunks instantly fell to the ground.

"Get up you worthless pile of shit," Vegeta growled, and he kicked Trunks hard in the ribs.

Trunks grunted with in pain and attempted to get up, only to fail miserably. He groaned when Vegeta grabbed him by the neck and effortlessly lifted him off the floor. "When I say get up, you get up. Understand me, boy?" He threw his son across the room.

Trunks hit the wall, and the resounding smack echoed throughout the gravity room. Bracing himself against the wall, Trunks pulled himself up. Panting, his legs shaking, he stood there, trying desperately to hold back tears, but to no avail. The tears streamed down his face, which was now very pale.

Vegeta felt the slightest sting his heart at seeing the boy cry, but he quickly shock it off and grabbed Trunks by the collar. "You are worthless," he sneered. "Get out of here. You disgust me." He literally kicked him out and resumed his training alone.

Trunks scrambled to his room and shut the door. He collapsed against it, finally free of his father's torture. He sat there for many long minutes, trying to catch his breath. Still panting, he stumbled into his bathroom, and turned on the cold water. He braced his hands against the sink, breathing hard. "God, my head," he muttered. After splashing some water on his face, he felt a little better. He turned it off and returned to his room to change.

When he had made himself sufficiently presentable, he decided to go to the local gas station and get some gum. Feeling that his energy was up to par enough to fly, he soared out his bedroom window and headed for Veltro's Gas.

Just as he was heading inside, Jordan, one his classmates from school, sauntered up to him. "Hey, you don't look so good," he said, scrutinizing him carefully. "What's wrong, Trunks?"

"It's nothing, really. You know lack of sleep," Trunks replied nonchalantly.

"Doesn't look like it to me." Jordan raised an eyebrow at him. "Looks to me like you were beaten within an inch of your life."

"Oh, that," Trunks answered sheepishly. "Oh, you know, problems with the old man. It kind of takes its toll on me."

Jordan nodded. "Ahhh, I get it; your father beats you."

Trunks laughed, a little nervous. "Well, sort of. I mean, not exactly..."

Jordan shook his head and smiled. He put an arm around Trunks's shoulder. "Listen here, I've got a great idea. I've got a little something that can help you out. If you like it, all you have to do to get more is buy it for yourself. And, of course, for me and the gang," he added. "You are rich, after all."

"Yeah, money's no problem," Trunks agreed. "...But what is it?"

With an arm still around his friend's shoulder, Jordan led Trunks behind the shop. Trunks could just make out a large group of boys huddled around something.

"Hey, guys," Jordan greeted them.

"Jordan, what's up?" responded one of the boys, who was obviously a friend of his.

"Guess what? We've made a new friend. This," he said, presenting the lilac-haired teen, "is Trunks. He wants to be... initiated." He winked.

Another one of the boys passed him a bag. "Go for it, man."

Jordan accepted it and took out something that looked a little like a cigarette.

"Is that a cigarette?" Trunks asked him.

"No this is even better. Try it." Jordan handed it to him, instructing him to put it between his lips. He lit a match and held it against the bong. "Now inhale."

Trunks did so, and almost immediately felt the most delicious feeling. It was almost like walking on the clouds...

When it was finished, he helped himself to another. Then another.

After some time, he turned to Jordan, and smiled. "I think I like this stuff."

Jordan smirked. "Trunks," he said, putting his arm around Trunks's shoulder again, "This is the beginning of a wonderful friendship."