Disclaimer: I don't own DragonBallZ.
Reviews! They keep a person writing. As requested, I'll try to tell you the age of the guys, but it's kind of difficult. 1, Trunks's sister was supposed to be born at this point, but in here she's not, you'll find out why. 2, I don't really know how far apart the two are in age (I guess Trunks is maybe one or two years older than Goten), and 3, it's difficult to mention how old they are without giving that "going out of your way to say it" impression on the readers. However, I'll do my best!
Vegeta, hearing Bulma's sobs, went to check on her. He advanced towards the kitchen and gazed at the spot where she used to constantly sit. Quickly, though, his attention was turned to the tall, fatigued figure of Trunks, who had confusedly allowed his worried mother to embrace him.
Vegeta's face remained expressionless, though with the relief that washed through his chest, his posture immediately became straighter and taller.
Trunks looked back down at his mother. "Mom, I really wish you wouldn't cry."
She loosened her grip on him and backed away, almost embarrassed, and wiped her face dry with her fingers. "Sorry," she said, and gave him a small smile to reassure him.
For several minutes they stood around saying nothing, until Trunks finally spoke up. "I really have to take a shower or something." His hands and feet were sweaty and almost completely covered in dried dirt, and his face was not much different.
"Of course," Bulma nodded. "When you're done I'll have dinner ready for you. You must be hungry!"
Deciding it would be better not to comment on how Bulma, too, must be famished, he carefully made his way up the stairs, leaving the other two to let the anxiety escape their minds.
Bulma estimated the size of her family's hunger, including her own, and prepared a large enough serving of rice, vegetables, pork, chicken, and rolls to feed five Saiyans. She set everything down on the table, and sat in her seat to stare at the food longingly.
At last, Trunks came downstairs, looking a little closer to the way he had before that day...except that, strangely, one of his arms seemed to be itching for movement, as if it desired greatly to hit something. Vegeta looked away, not wanting to aggravate his already weary son. On top of that, he didn't want to arouse suspicion in Bulma, who apparently didn't notice.
Trunks sat down with them, and, without another word, the three ate their fill gratefully. They had missed the taste of finely prepared food for so long. Bulma finally started to look a little healthier, color gradually returning to her face.
When he'd finished eating, Trunks, too exhausted to stay awake, proceeded up the staircase and to his bedroom where he felt he could finally rest.
Bulma and Vegeta were rather fatigued, as well, and decided to get ready for bed.
Vegeta wondered whether or not Bulma was going to say anything. He expected her to have at least asked the most obvious question, but never did. Annoyed, he mentioned it slightly. "If our son is back..."
"I'm sure Goten is with his family, too." She tightened the straps on her nightshirt. Before she could ask why he wondered, he spoke harshly.
"Isn't that odd?"
"What?" She looked at him. "I don't understand."
Vegeta thought that if she didn't see the strangeness in the situation, it was better to leave the subject alone. "Never mind," he said to her.
"Trunks is back, right? That's all we asked for. And from what I could tell he isn't seriously injured, thank heaven. You're tired. So am I." She stretched and yawned. "I might take a sleeping pill to keep me out longer."
. . . . . .
As soon as Trunks was sure that his parents were sleeping, he allowed the pain in his left shoulder and arm to seep in. Instinctively, he grabbed at his arm and dug his nails deep into his skin, nearly breaking it.
He was back home. He was home. That was all that mattered. He was supposed to feel relieved, he wasn't supposed to feel anxious anymore. The horrid visions in his head were supposed to disappear now. But they weren't gone. And the anxiousness still pulled at him, like it was on a line with a hook and it was trying to yank his stomach out from inside him.
His bangs fell in front of his shut, wincing eyes, and he dug his nails deeper into his arm. With his other hand, he cut his fingertips into his knee, and attempted to break through to his veins. When he opened his eyes, he saw the scarlet blood stain into his pants as he tried to put his focus on a different source of pain. But still the aching in his arms could not be outdone as the agony stabbed inside his flesh more and more.
. . . . . .
Goten immediately went to visit Gohan after he'd eaten, eager to see his older brother once more.
Chi-Chi cleared the table off as Goku relaxed in his chair, finally satisfied with a good, healthy meal. He put his hands behind his head and leaned back.
"Is he going to be alright?" Chi-Chi sighed.
"I'm sure he's going to be just fine. Goten can take care of himself. He made it back home, didn't he?"
"Yes, but..." She paused before putting the bowls into the sink. "I'm still worried. He seems so different, not at all like I remember him."
Goten, who was usually slightly cocky, outward and often fun loving, seemed quiet and pondering, as if he was thinking about an idea he didn't intend to share.
"He's probably been through a lot," Goku started, but was interrupted.
"What?" Chi-Chi shouted. "What? What was it he went through? Can't he even confide in his own mother? Or even at least his father!"
"He might not want to talk about it," Goku told her calmly.
"I was never afraid to speak with my father," she said.
"But you were...well...a girl. He's a sixteen-year-old boy. Boys are different."
She sighed, hoping deeply in her mind and her heart that Goten would come around.
. . . . . .
Goten, finally outside, leaned against the wall of his house, away from the windows, and pressed his foot into the ground.
God, why can't it go away? he thought. The pain was immense inside his leg. He tried keeping his foot off of the ground for a moment, and felt a bit more at ease. His tight-shut eyes loosened to simply being closed. His eyebrows pointed inward a bit with his stress. When he would put his foot on the ground, it was as if claws inside his calf went a little deeper and became a little sharper with his every step.
He gathered himself and proceeded towards his brother's house just down the road.
There you have it. Review!
Reviews! They keep a person writing. As requested, I'll try to tell you the age of the guys, but it's kind of difficult. 1, Trunks's sister was supposed to be born at this point, but in here she's not, you'll find out why. 2, I don't really know how far apart the two are in age (I guess Trunks is maybe one or two years older than Goten), and 3, it's difficult to mention how old they are without giving that "going out of your way to say it" impression on the readers. However, I'll do my best!
Vegeta, hearing Bulma's sobs, went to check on her. He advanced towards the kitchen and gazed at the spot where she used to constantly sit. Quickly, though, his attention was turned to the tall, fatigued figure of Trunks, who had confusedly allowed his worried mother to embrace him.
Vegeta's face remained expressionless, though with the relief that washed through his chest, his posture immediately became straighter and taller.
Trunks looked back down at his mother. "Mom, I really wish you wouldn't cry."
She loosened her grip on him and backed away, almost embarrassed, and wiped her face dry with her fingers. "Sorry," she said, and gave him a small smile to reassure him.
For several minutes they stood around saying nothing, until Trunks finally spoke up. "I really have to take a shower or something." His hands and feet were sweaty and almost completely covered in dried dirt, and his face was not much different.
"Of course," Bulma nodded. "When you're done I'll have dinner ready for you. You must be hungry!"
Deciding it would be better not to comment on how Bulma, too, must be famished, he carefully made his way up the stairs, leaving the other two to let the anxiety escape their minds.
Bulma estimated the size of her family's hunger, including her own, and prepared a large enough serving of rice, vegetables, pork, chicken, and rolls to feed five Saiyans. She set everything down on the table, and sat in her seat to stare at the food longingly.
At last, Trunks came downstairs, looking a little closer to the way he had before that day...except that, strangely, one of his arms seemed to be itching for movement, as if it desired greatly to hit something. Vegeta looked away, not wanting to aggravate his already weary son. On top of that, he didn't want to arouse suspicion in Bulma, who apparently didn't notice.
Trunks sat down with them, and, without another word, the three ate their fill gratefully. They had missed the taste of finely prepared food for so long. Bulma finally started to look a little healthier, color gradually returning to her face.
When he'd finished eating, Trunks, too exhausted to stay awake, proceeded up the staircase and to his bedroom where he felt he could finally rest.
Bulma and Vegeta were rather fatigued, as well, and decided to get ready for bed.
Vegeta wondered whether or not Bulma was going to say anything. He expected her to have at least asked the most obvious question, but never did. Annoyed, he mentioned it slightly. "If our son is back..."
"I'm sure Goten is with his family, too." She tightened the straps on her nightshirt. Before she could ask why he wondered, he spoke harshly.
"Isn't that odd?"
"What?" She looked at him. "I don't understand."
Vegeta thought that if she didn't see the strangeness in the situation, it was better to leave the subject alone. "Never mind," he said to her.
"Trunks is back, right? That's all we asked for. And from what I could tell he isn't seriously injured, thank heaven. You're tired. So am I." She stretched and yawned. "I might take a sleeping pill to keep me out longer."
. . . . . .
As soon as Trunks was sure that his parents were sleeping, he allowed the pain in his left shoulder and arm to seep in. Instinctively, he grabbed at his arm and dug his nails deep into his skin, nearly breaking it.
He was back home. He was home. That was all that mattered. He was supposed to feel relieved, he wasn't supposed to feel anxious anymore. The horrid visions in his head were supposed to disappear now. But they weren't gone. And the anxiousness still pulled at him, like it was on a line with a hook and it was trying to yank his stomach out from inside him.
His bangs fell in front of his shut, wincing eyes, and he dug his nails deeper into his arm. With his other hand, he cut his fingertips into his knee, and attempted to break through to his veins. When he opened his eyes, he saw the scarlet blood stain into his pants as he tried to put his focus on a different source of pain. But still the aching in his arms could not be outdone as the agony stabbed inside his flesh more and more.
. . . . . .
Goten immediately went to visit Gohan after he'd eaten, eager to see his older brother once more.
Chi-Chi cleared the table off as Goku relaxed in his chair, finally satisfied with a good, healthy meal. He put his hands behind his head and leaned back.
"Is he going to be alright?" Chi-Chi sighed.
"I'm sure he's going to be just fine. Goten can take care of himself. He made it back home, didn't he?"
"Yes, but..." She paused before putting the bowls into the sink. "I'm still worried. He seems so different, not at all like I remember him."
Goten, who was usually slightly cocky, outward and often fun loving, seemed quiet and pondering, as if he was thinking about an idea he didn't intend to share.
"He's probably been through a lot," Goku started, but was interrupted.
"What?" Chi-Chi shouted. "What? What was it he went through? Can't he even confide in his own mother? Or even at least his father!"
"He might not want to talk about it," Goku told her calmly.
"I was never afraid to speak with my father," she said.
"But you were...well...a girl. He's a sixteen-year-old boy. Boys are different."
She sighed, hoping deeply in her mind and her heart that Goten would come around.
. . . . . .
Goten, finally outside, leaned against the wall of his house, away from the windows, and pressed his foot into the ground.
God, why can't it go away? he thought. The pain was immense inside his leg. He tried keeping his foot off of the ground for a moment, and felt a bit more at ease. His tight-shut eyes loosened to simply being closed. His eyebrows pointed inward a bit with his stress. When he would put his foot on the ground, it was as if claws inside his calf went a little deeper and became a little sharper with his every step.
He gathered himself and proceeded towards his brother's house just down the road.
There you have it. Review!