Rainwater
Chapter 17: Unwanted Advice
Rating: R for sexual situations and suggestions, adult topics and language.
WitchyPrincess

Unwanted Advice

Closed up. An empty space inside my head that takes me back in time. Depraved of hope and spirit, I fall apart again. I keep looking out my window, my elbow propped up on the panel, a frown on my face and a dream right beyond my finger tips.

I can't stretch to reach it and wouldn't if I could. I know what that dream will lead to and I'm afraid of what it means.

I hold my breath when I'm underwater but I'm drowning anyway.

–Bra Briefs
#######

It was raining outside. A strong, continuous thump that beat against the window panes as Bra sat, staring out. She couldn't sleep; she didn't usually sleep much these days.

Goten's wedding was in three weeks now and it didn't look like he was changing his mind. He hadn't been by to see her since the incident at the hotel and she didn't blame him. Honestly she didn't know what she'd do if she did see him, knowing he was going to marry that girl. Knowing that there could have been something between them but she would always only be second best. Second to Paris.

Bra was never second at anything she did and she refused to settle for it now. She just wished she had the guts to take Paris on, woman to woman. To make Goten chose, one way or anther, who he wanted for good. But she didn't. She could only cower and pretend like he didn't exist.

She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that if she told him she was willing to fight for his affection, he would eventually wind up with her. But it was the fighting she couldn't conceive of. How could she force herself on someone like that? She couldn't imagine it. Pan could.

Pan had done it.

Bra sighed, looking up at the ceiling with a whimsical smile. One of wry humor but not really amusement. Look how well that had turned out for Pan, she thought dryly.

This was tearing Bra up inside; what her brother was doing. What Pan and her brother were doing. It was wrong. Just plain wrong. Either they loved each other or they didn't and she couldn't continue to sit by and watch it happen. Trunks was easing into Pan, Bra could see that. Slowly, he was becoming more use to the idea of being with her. Not just sleeping with her but actually being with her.

Bra had watched him brush his hand against her's this morning at the breakfast table. She had watched his fingers slide slowly across Pan's back as he passed her in leaving the house. She watched her brother's eyes when he glanced in Pan's direction. They weren't hard anymore. They certainly weren't the sign of a lover lost in his lady's eyes, but they weren't cold and hateful and that was improvement. Still, that didn't make it right.

And all Bra could do was sit back and think about how wrong it was. Pan didn't want to listen to reason. Bra had thought, after Pan heard about Sydney, she would walk right out of Trunks' life. The girl had gone four days without seeing Trunks and then Bra watched as she eased down the stairs the next morning, a sheepish expression in her eyes when she saw Bra's disappointed face. But she'd made no excuses for her actions. None whatsoever.

And Bra had expected no less. The girl was in love–not that it served as an adequate excuse. Bra certainly wouldn't be Goten's mistress...Though she had come awfully close that night in the hotel. She wasn't proud of it but she wouldn't do it again. Though she couldn't really say that for sure because she wasn't given the opportunity to do it again. So, maybe she would.

Bra curled up on the window seat, laying her head against the glass. In minutes she was asleep with her thoughts flittering through her brain like dripping water from a faucet.

#######

His eyes snapped open quickly, body cold suddenly though there was no logical reason for the chill. Pan was no longer near him but he didn't know how that could have bothered him; they never touched in their sleep. He stayed rigid just to make sure he didn't hold her when they slept. He never wanted her to get the wrong impression. Her leaving the bed shouldn't have woken him but it had.

He looked up, his bleary eyes focusing on her figure.

She was wearing his shirt.

An emotion that he couldn't identify swelled up in his chest and made it hard for him to breathe. He blinked a few times before sitting up, staring at her in his long business shirt and nothing more.

He felt uncomfortable.

"That's my shirt." He muttered sleepily, wiping his eyes. She started, jumping slightly and turning to face him. She had been staring out of the window, drifting in her own world. Her cheeks were slightly red as she looked him. She was embarrassed.

"I know." She whispered softly, making his spine catch goose-bumps at her apprehension. "My clothes never made it to the dryer last night. Sorry."

He got up, walking over to her slowly, his face unreadable. "Take it off." He commanded certainly, his mouth set into a frown.

He could nearly see her heart skip a beat, watched cruelly as her eyes shifted down to the floor in shame and then back up at him, even smiled when he was sure she was fighting back the tears.

"Fine." She muttered, starting to walk past him and head toward the door. He stuck a hand out to halt her.

"What are you doing?" He asked harshly, eyes daring her to be smart with him. She didn't take up the challenge; he had completely broken her spirit. In a way, that made his heart hurt the slightest bit.

"You told me to take off your shirt," She whispered, voice cracking slightly. The fire in her eyes lit as she looked up at him, the fight entering her again. "I'm going to go borrow something from Bra until my clothes dry. At least she won't mind." She pushed past him but he grabbed her again, pushing her back against the window pane.

"I only told you to take off the shirt," He whispered back, pushing closer to her so that his face was buried in her neck. "I never asked you to put anything else on." He informed softly, kissing the side of her throat gently.

"But never mind," He continued to torture her skin with gentle caresses. "You can keep it on for this." His voice took on a wicked tone as he finished, eyes glinting with amusement.

"Trunks–" She whispered back, alarmed, but he silenced her protests with a breath-taking kiss.

It wasn't until then that he realized what it was he'd felt when he saw her in his shirt:

Possessiveness.

She was his. Now and forever. He'd make sure of that.

#######

Pan shifted uncomfortably under her mother's stare. It wasn't pleasant to have Videl Satan Son look at you in that penetrating way. It wasn't pleasant at all. Pan considered getting up from her own table and making an excuse to leave, but knew better than to tempt an already angry woman and make her angrier.

Besides, it wasn't like her mother was going to actually let her leave. Especially not when they were in Pan's apartment, as it was. Because Videl was on to something; something was eating her and she couldn't bite her tongue anymore. It wasn't in the mother's handbook that she keep her mouth shut for so long about something so big. She had only butted out this long because her husband had talked his 'logic' into her.

His talk about children and needing to rebel. Saying Pan was the type of girl that simply had to learn from her own mistakes and couldn't be talked out of anything for anybody. And also saying that telling Pan anything would only result in worse behavior from their daughter. All of which Videl agreed with, but there was only so much one person could take without bursting.

Videl had burst.

She couldn't sit by and watch her own daughter ruin her life without so much as butting in. Years from now, Pan would not be able to look back and say no one had told her she was making a huge mistake. Videl wasn't going to let that happen. It was her job as a parent to warn her child before the girl did stupid, dangerous things; and this was certainly both of those.

Only it was a little too late to classify this as 'before' anything. But how could she have known beforehand anyway? It was simple: she couldn't have possibly known. And, she was certain, if Pan didn't want her to know right now, Videl still wouldn't know.

Her daughter could be quite secretive when she wanted to be; she was known for keeping things to herself and hiding her emotions. But this Pan had not even tried to keep quiet, though she hadn't publicly announced it, and what Videl couldn't figure out was why. Why in the world would this girl want her parents to know she was doing something so scanty and deplorable?

Why wouldn't she try and cover it up? Didn't she know it was wrong? Didn't she feel badly about it? And, if she didn't, why didn't she feel badly about it? She should. It was wrong.

Videl scowled as she looked over at her daughter, leaning back in her chair and going over the situation again in her head with scientific precision. She was careful about how she broached the subject, keeping her tone even and controlled as she spoke the words that wouldn't stay in the back of her mind anymore.

"Pan, I want you to stop seeing Trunks." She told her daughter softly, looking calm though her heart was hammering faster than it ever had before.

"I work with him, mother." Her daughter responded dryly, leaning back in her own chair and smirking, looking more at ease after Videl spoke than she had before the woman ventured.

"You know what I'm saying, Pan." Videl chastised, eyes narrowing as she clasped her hands together and thinned her lips in disapproval.

"Then say it, mother. You want me to stop sleeping with Trunks. But, frankly, I don't see how that's any of your business." She responded calmly, still smiling slightly. Apparently, she found this situation amusing.

Videl unclasped her hands, digging them into the fabric of her pants. She closed her eyes for a second and reminded herself to breathe, making sure that she was calm again before she dared to respond back.

"I'm your mother, Pan, and as such it's my job to tell you when you're making a life-altering mistake. Do you know what you're doing, Pan? Have you any clue what-"

"Mother, forgive me, but I don't think you actually want to get into a conversation about whether or not I know what I'm doing." Her lips upturned again, though she didn't exactly smile.

Videl lost it. Completely lost it. "Do you know who you're talking to?" She demanded roughly. "With these crude, vulgar insinuations." She bit her tongue before lashing out completely, sitting up in the chair and leaning forward. She put a hand up, face red, to warn her daughter not to speak.

Pan swallowed, clearly humbled, and lowered her head to keep herself from speaking and getting into more trouble.

"I don't know what the hell is wrong with you, Pan Son, but I intend to tell you right now that you're not getting away with it."

Pan looked up sharply as her mother stood up, placing a hand on her hip. She had never heard Videl swear before. Now, she knew she was in for it.

"Listen to me, Pan," Videl commanded, walking around the table that separated them and stopping to stoop in front of Pan. She reached out a hand as her daughter shrunk back. Videl laughed.

"I'm not going to hit you," She told her softly, a slight bitter tone to her voice as her hand cupped Pan's face. "I should, to knock some sense in you, but I won't." She smiled wryly, as if laughing at a joke that her daughter didn't get or hadn't heard. Pan fought back a shiver as she waited for her mother to continue.

"Listen to me," She repeated. "I know I can't tell you what to do. I know you're old enough to make your own decisions and that, even if I don't agree with them, I have to accept them. But that doesn't mean I respect them.

"Pan, why are you doing this? Is it to prove a point, because if it is, you needn't waste your time. We all know you're grown and out of our punishing range. We all know you can decide things for yourself. What has gotten into you?"

"Don't come here," Pan started softly, voice caught in what was either a hiccup or a sob. "Pretending that you're concerned for my well being. Pretending that you're not trying to assert your power. I know what you're doing." She continued in that deadly soft tone, moving her face up and pulling it slowly from her mother's hand.

"And, mother, for your information, this has nothing to do with you. Or daddy. This is all about me and Trunks and if I don't want to explain it to you then I don't have to."

"Not everything you want is what you need, Pan." Videl told her sadly, standing up again. Her blue eyes were shimmering with pain and frustration. Was she to watch her daughter destroy herself simply because the girl was too stubborn to admit she was wrong?

A silver teardrop spilled out of Pan's eye, down her cheek, as she looked up at her mother. "I love him." She whispered softly, shaking her head. "And there's nothing anyone can do about it."

"I'm telling you Pan," Videl pleaded, shaking her head as she watched her daughter emotionally detatch herself from the world. "That's not all there is to live for. I promise you, just let it go, and you'll feel so much better. I'm not asking you, Pan, I'm begging you. Don't do this anymore."

But Pan didn't respond, she didn't even look up at Videl as the woman waited for a response. She merely sat. Blankly staring. After a while, torn, Videl walked around the chair and headed out of her daughter's apartment. There was nothing she could do now. Nothing but wait. And pray. Hope that Pan would do the right thing; it was never too late to do the right thing. She hoped Pan knew that.

She paused in the doorway, to look back at her daughter, with eyes that were shimmering with unshed tears. In a soft voice she whispered, just to make sure things were clear, "I'm not telling you this because I want to assert my authority. I'm not telling you this because you're grown and I can no longer control you but I want to. I'm telling you, Pan, because for the first time in my life," she paused, breathing hard as she forced the words to escape her lips. "I'm ashamed that you're my daughter."

She was gone before she could hear the heartbroken sob that escaped her daughter's lips.

#######

She didn't know why she was here tonight. She hadn't planned on coming tonight and he hadn't told her that he'd wanted her to come, but he hadn't said she shouldn't either. That was a plus, at least.

It was late enough that she didn't expect anybody else to be up, late enough that she wouldn't need to make up an excuse as to why she was there if anybody saw her coming in. They would know, because there was no denying it, and they wouldn't ask. If they did, she was sure she'd give them hell. She was just mad enough to do it.

Her mother's visit had thrown her off. She'd cried for thirty minutes before she controlled it and remembered she was a 'big girl' now. She didn't need her parents' approval or understanding. And she sure as hell didn't need their permission. Maybe that was why she was here; to prove a point. Or maybe she was hurt, beyond just a little, and she was praying he would see that and just hold her.

She wasn't going to hold her breath.

Besides, tonight she wanted to feel complete and he was the only one that ever did that to her. She needed him and nothing was going to throw her off that conviction. That was why she didn't pause when she saw Bra on her way towards the staircase. At least, not a first.

She walked half-way up the stairs before she stilled herself and realized that the girl was curled up on the window seat with her head buried in her knees. The way her body moved up and down suggested that she was crying. Pan sighed, agitated, and turned back around and headed down the stairs. She had learned a lot about Bra these past few months and she couldn't just leave the girl in pain like that. No matter how hurt or pissed off she was, some things just wouldn't rest well on her conscience no matter what. Reluctantly, she admitted that she cared about the girl more than she ever had before.

Tentatively, she approached Bra, caution clear in her movements. It looked as if she was approaching a wild bear or something that could attack at any moment. Bra must have known she as there because she didn't stir when Pan placed a hand on her shoulder. That or she didn't realize Pan was touching her. The dark-haired girl shuddered at the thought.

"Bra," she asked lightly, like treading on thin ice. "Are you okay?"

She didn't raise her head, so her voice came out muffled and strangled somewhere inside her throat. "Do I look okay?" There was sarcasm there too.

"No, no you don't look okay." Pan conceded, choosing to ignore her angry attitude. "Do you," She paused, biting her lip and choking on her words. What could she say? They weren't the best of friends. They were hardly even friends. They didn't have civilized conversations usually. They didn't offer each other condolence or a listening ear. But she couldn't walk away from her.

She honestly didn't know what to do. Bra shocked her by snatching her face away from her knees and looking her straight in the face. Her eyes were a bit glossy, but they weren't red. Her face wasn't tear-streaked, just pale. And tired. She hadn't been crying, that much was clear.

"When I was seven," Bra started, scooting over and silently telling Pan to take a seat beside her, voice a striking calm. Pan marveled at how the Briefs could be calm in the oddest situations, her mind drifting back to when Bulma had caught her and Trunks in his office. Both Bulma and Trunks had been worlds calmer than she was. And now, Bra was doing it.

Pan shook her head and took a seat beside the girl, urging her to continue because Pan really didn't know what else to do.

"My mother took us to an amusement park for my birthday–a group of my friends from school, that is."

Pan nodded, remembering. She hadn't been invited.

"And I remember being upset because I was shorter than most of the kids, because they were all older than me, and I couldn't ride most of the rides they could. I pouted the entire time, every time one of the kids wanted to ride something I couldn't get on. I mean, it was my birthday party. How could they go off just like I didn't matter, simply because their admission had already been paid off?"

Pan swallowed when Bra paused, nodding but confused. She waited patiently for the girl to continue as she drifted back through memories.

"I remember mommy took me to the bathroom while my friends were on some roller-coaster or another, and took my shoulder. She looked down on me with one of the sternest faces I'd ever seen her use and she said to me: 'If you cry in the amusement park, in front of those children, not only will I punish you for being so weak but you'll live the rest of your life regretting it. I mean it, one tear and I'm taking you all back home.'

"That was it. No questions, no pat on the back, no encouraging hug or acknowledgment of how justified I was to feel the way I felt. Not a word about my jerk friends. Nothing. Just, don't cry or you'll regret it," she drew in a deep breath, straightening her shoulders. "I didn't get it then." She sighed, looking more defeated than Pan had ever seen her.

"I get it now," she stated softly.

"They never would have let you live it down." Pan said softly, nodding her head in a bit of understanding. "You would have forever been the brat. The 'it's-my-party-I-can-cry-if-I-want-to' party spoiler. You would have been teased."

She didn't speak for a few minutes, just leaned her head against the window.

"No. It was deeper than that." She finally allowed her voice to penetrate the air.

"How so?" Pan asked, leaning closer with a curious tone.

"It happened again when I was seventeen," she told Pan softly. "I was at one of the science labs in Capsule, you know, just looking at some of the research mom had been working on. One of her co-workers, a scientist, came in and spotted me. He just stared, a small smile on his face as he kind of observed me.

"I thought he was cute so I gave him this flirtatious smile. My mother came in and we all engaged in conversation for a few minutes. Eventually it led to me, and he asked about where I was going to college. My mother put on this fake, sort of high, laugh and shook her head, patting me on the shoulder lovingly. She spoke real softly when she told him that I wasn't really interested in school and that my career would probably be driven towards arts. She chuckled it off with this insincere smile as she told him I was going to a community school. I could tell she was embarrassed and he was disgusted. The interest wiped right out of his gaze when he discovered that I wasn't as smart as my mother.

"And, Pan, I've never felt so degraded in my life as I did in that moment."

Pan spoke lightly, angry for Bra, and confused by it all. "What does one have to do with the other, Bra?"

"You don't see things the way I do, Pan, you didn't live the way I did. Weren't raised in that kind of society. But that doesn't mean you don't know this as well as I do: life isn't fair and, because it isn't fair, sometimes you'll never get the things you deserve the most; no matter how much you deserve them." She turned her head away from Pan, staring into the night sky with anger apparent in her gaze.

"That was my birthday party, I had invited them and paid for them, and they were supposed to be my friends. They should have stuck by me but they didn't because they didn't have to. And I couldn't force them to without suffering the repercussions.

"And that guy. He never saw me. He saw my smile, he saw my brief interest in science, he saw my face. But he missed me. And, because I didn't have the confidence to pursue an Ivy League college, he just dismissed who I was. Didn't even try to see me."

"So, because of two incidents, all of sudden you'll never get anything you deserve out of life because it's not fair?" Pan nearly cried, indignantly angry.

"There's more than two incidents. There's a lifetime full of them that I could shower on you, but I'm sure you're not interested. All I'm saying is that I've finally figured it out. If I just stop trying, it's got to stop hurting...right?"

"Bra, stop it. What could possibly have your life so knotted up that you can't think straight? That you can't even be happy?"

"I haven't been happy since I was..." She paused, truly thinking, biting her lip with the concentration. "Well, I honestly don't ever remembering being really happy for long periods of time. Maybe in my pre-teen years. Daddy was always there to make me smile, always there to help me out. But somehow, over time, we just...drifted."

"Are you kidding? I would love to have your father. He doesn-" But Bra cut her off before she couldn't explain what he did or didn't do. Wrong or right.

"Or course you would love to have him. Look at you." She pointed to Pan, clear jealousy in her tone and eyes. Pan shifted back, confused.

"What do you mean, look at me? I've got the worst life, luck, ...hell worst anything on Earth."

"Are you kidding me, Pan? I've wanted to be you since I was old enough to talk. Do you know how many times I've been compared to you? How many times I've watched my father's eyes light up with joy when you were around, how many times I wished that just once he could treat me the way he treated you? How I used to pretend that one day he'd come up to my room and demand that I spar with you two, or maybe that it'd just be us? How I prayed that my parents would see more in me, expect more from me, then just a pretty face that wouldn't amount to much?

"I watched them knowing they thought you had potential. Knowing they favored you. And I envied you for it. But, more than that honey, I wanted to be you. How could you hate your life when I've yearned to have it all of mine?

"You're a year younger than me and you graduated a year before me. The world opened up, for you it was a big sphere of 'yes'. You could have done anything, been anything. You had everything I wanted, everything I dreamed about. And you had courage and the strength to back it up. You had wits and the brains to go along with it. Dende, Pan, you had determination where I would have laid down and accepted my fate.

"Why do you think I came to you and not Marron in this? Why do you think I asked you what I should do when Marron, clearly, has more experience? Because you have the personality for it. That type of special something that makes everyone stand back and watch you. You command attention throughout this party of life, I'm only the starting attraction.

"I've always, always thought that if I could have half the strength and sense you do, I'd be set for life. And this is why what you're doing has disappointed me so greatly. You were meant for so much more than this. You deserve so much more and, though I don't know why you've done it, you've sold yourself short. When are you going to wake up, Pan? He doesn't deserve you."

All her words came rushed, bumping into each other as if she'd been holding them in for a long time, running around every subject she could cover in the minute or so that she was talking. Her eyes glittered with pain and...something more. Concern.

Pan sighed, brushing her fingers roughly though her hair, opening her mouth to defend herself but Bra held up a hand so quiet her.

"You promised me once, remember, that one day you would listen to my advice. Even if you didn't want to hear it. Remember?"

Pan sighed again, nodding. "I remember." She gave reluctantly, resting her back against the window. This was going to be a long night.

"Don't let him do this to you, Pan. Don't let him ruin you like this. You've got so much and you could have so much more if you didn't let him take advantage of you. I mean, really, where the hell is this relationship," she spat that word out as if it were a mockery. "Going? Do you even know? I'll tell you what, and listen to me because you need to hear this. Pan, as long as you stay with him while he uses you, as long as you let him hurt you, you deserve everything you get.

"Why would you want to be with someone that makes you hurt, that tears you up inside? A man, Pan, can only do what you let him. You can't just let him abuse you like this. No matter who he is or how you feel, you can't put up with it. He'll never change as long as you let him hurt you. You should leave him. And if you don't, you deserve everything he gives you."

Pan stood up, angry and it was clear. "I should walk away from you right now. Tell you to stay the hell out of my life because you can't possibly understand. But I won't. I listened to you, patiently, while you told me all that, but it's my turn. You're going to listen to me Bra," she stated sternly as the girl opened her mouth to protest something or other.

Bra shut her mouth abruptly, nodding her consent.

"I just don't understand you Bra. Not at all. How could you have seen all that in me and miss what you have that I'll never be able to touch?" She paused for a second to glare at the girl, clearing her throat. "I won't tell you how many times I've been compared to you. I won't even go there because it's pointless.

"Bra, you can't possibly think I've got the world at my fingertips, my life's a living hell. Always has been. Just one catastrophe after another. I've always thought first with my heart and then my head, and that's exactly what I've been doing. This, exactly what you see before you and nothing more, is exactly what you've been wasting your life envying. I haven't changed one bit since I was seventeen and you know it. What you've got that I don't is something so invaluable I can't believe you don't appreciate it more. You've got self-confidence, Bra. Charisma that stands out on it's own.

"I don't attract attention the way you do, I can't capture people the way you and Marron can. I only pretend to. I've always only pretended. People stop and watch you because they're drawn to you, they watch me because I yell that they have to. You walk with this air that demands people respect you without even lifting your voice, and you've always found a way to value your ideals over everything else. You always put your principles first. You think, weigh the consequences, and then you precede. I always just go and that's not something you can learn to grow out of. How can you envy me the very thing that's ruining my life? The very thing that's making you be disappointed in me? How can you stand there and say you wanted to be me, but that you can't understand what I'm doing now?"

"Because you're killing yourself. Every time you turn back to him you're destroying a part of you that we all love in you so much. You're letting him feed off of it, take it from you, and you don't even know it. You can do better than this, Pan. You don't need this - or him." Her voice was adamant, striking as she finished, reaching something deep within Pan and pulling it to the surface. The younger girl, without being able to stop it, felt a fleet of silent tears begin to flow past her cheeks.

"You don't understand, Bra. I do need him. I can't let go of this, I try every single day. It's like an addiction that I can't just quit. I can't convince myself to strive for better, reach higher. Dende knows I've tried to. But you don't know how I feel, you don't see him the way I do. No one does. No one knows how he hurts, no one realizes what we give each other or that, without each other, we'd fall apart.

"You can't possibly understand it because you've never been this low. You've never hurt this much or known this kind of pain, Bra. In your entire life you've never cried these anger-stricken tears. Not like me, not like him. We feed off each other. We're destroying each other, I know, but neither of us is big enough to stop it. And neither are you."

Bra was up by this point, giving the girl a painful sort-of disappointed frown.

"You're so wrong, Pan. I know pain. Just because you can't see it doesn't mean it doesn't exist. You see, your pain is like rainwater; whenever it gets too heavy it can fall right from the cloud. But mine is a river. And there's a dam right in the middle.

"But just forget it. You can do what you want, because you're going to anyway. I just hope that by the time you finally do realize what this is doing to you, it's not too late for you to make things right again. I wish I had some strength to give you but I don't. And you're going to need all of it if you just keep letting my brother use you like this. You know, the stray cat will always come back if you keep on feeding it."

"Sometimes, when that cat is your only companion, you've got no option."

"What do you think I'm here for, Pan? It wouldn't hurt if you gave me a chance to be your friend, you know." But Pan didn't respond and, after a few seconds of silence, they both turned and headed in their separate directions, both as angry as the other.

To be continued...