Rainwater
Chapter 20: Fighting Back
Rating: R for sexual situations and suggestions, adult topics and language.
WitchyPrincess

Fighting Back

I guess there comes a point where you have to take responsibility for your own actions. There comes a moment when you can't help but blame yourself because, ultimately, you're the one that you have to live with the longest.

So, I figure it's like this: in the end, you can forgive anyone of anything they've ever done to you if you can forgive yourself first. Because forgiving yourself requires loving yourself and it means you'll never hurt yourself again.

Like the saying goes: shame on you if you fooled me once; shame on me if you fooled me twice.

All you have to do is promise to be good to yourself and then nothing anyone else ever does to you matters. They won't be able to bring you down, hold you back, if you don't let them. No one can do anything to you, take anything from you, if you don't let them. They can say what they want and do what they want but ultimately it's you that holds the key. If you don't relinquish it, they have no power over you.

Now that I know I'll never disappoint myself, I have nothing else to fear.

–Pan Son
#######

He wasn't sure which emotion was stronger, the poignant grief of having lost someone he just realized he loved, the stinging betrayal of having been deceived by his two best friends, or the burning anger that coursed through his soul and stung the insides of his body at the thought of those two best friends. The anger won; all the other feelings could wait to be dealt with when there was an appropriate time. Now was not that time.

His jaw clenched as he waited for the door to be opened, eyes narrowed in barely controlled disgust. He couldn't wait until Trunks appeared at the door, he wasn't even sure if he'd bother with a hello. He was just going to take him out back and ring his neck. That was the plan.

Until he saw her.

Ethereal. No other word could even touch her perfection. He wasn't sure when his feelings became so strong and undeniable, wasn't positive when he realized how absolutely wonderful she was, but clearly he had not felt this way about her the last time he saw her. When she was throwing him out of her house.

And then he remembered what a screw-up he was and that she was trying to avoid him. That and he was staring at her as if she were some kind of fallen angel while she had asked him a question–that he hadn't heard–and was waiting for a response. He had to get a grip over himself. But he couldn't help it, she did look like a fallen angel and he didn't want anything more than to fold her in his arms and never let her go.

There were bags under her eyes that he felt reasonably guilty for. Her blue orbs were definitely darker and more cynical than he ever remembered seeing them, her body more fragile, face more pale. But he couldn't ever remember a time when she was more beautiful than at this moment; this moment where he was seeing her for the first time.

Her scowl snapped him out of his trance.

"What?" Her tone was exasperated and her eyes were impatient.

"I don't suppose you want to talk to me?" She glowered, he sighed before his shoulders drooped dramatically. "I thought not." She started to shut the door but he put his hand out to stop her. "I'm actually here to see Trunks."

Her glare, if possible, got more intense. "Goten, you,"

"You said you didn't want to talk to me. You had your chance. Please go get your brother." His tone was clipped because he knew she was about to defend her brother and he didn't want to hear it. He couldn't hear it. He wanted to hurt Trunks and he refused to let her talk him out of it. He was afraid that if she asked him, that if she pulled that pleading look on him, he would crack. And he couldn't let himself do that so the easiest way to ensure she didn't was to anger her. That way she would do her best to get away from him as soon as possible.

Apparently this was too important to her to let him anger her away from her intent. "No." She stated firmly, going to shut the door again.

"I mean it, Bra, go get your brother or I'll get him for you."

"No. You are not going to do anything to Trunks, Goten. We already went through this the first time, didn't we? Pan makes her own decisions. You can't punish Trunks, solely, for a mistake they both made. It wouldn't be right."

"Bra, I–"

"Goten–"

"Bra," Bra frowned. She had been watching Goten and his mouth hadn't moved. A hand came to rest on her shoulder and she turned slowly, feeling angry with herself for not realizing Trunks was close. She should have just shut the door in Goten's face and been done with it. Now there was no avoiding this.

"What Trunks?" She asked softly, still trying to shut Goten out of the conversation by closing the door, as she turned to face him. Trunks' hand steadied the door as he gave her a stern expression.

"It's okay, I can handle this." There was a fire in his eyes that danced across her shoulders and down her back in shivers. She had never seen him look this decided about something in his life; she wasn't sure if he wanted to fight Goten or if he wanted Goten to fight him but, either way, they were clearly going to fight.

She wanted to protest, her heart screamed it, her mind hollered it, but her mouth said nothing. She knew the outcome of trying to talk either of them out of this: it wouldn't work. Instead she turned on her heel, diva-fashion, and marched out of both of their sights.

#######

She had started with her clothes. Every single flannel shirt, baggy pair of sweat pants, and ratty looking t-shirt found its way into the huge black garbage she had draped over her shoulder like Santa-Claus. The long shirts, loose jeans, and figure-less gi's, however, stayed where they were. She then preceded to fill the nearly bare closet with more appealing, albeit definitely not sexy, clothing.

Something that said she cared about herself.

Then she moved on to her room. She replaced the dark curtains and foreboding designs with brighter, lighter colors. Whites and warm coffee colors that accentuated her personality and not her woes. Smiling, she pushed the curtains open and yanked up the blinds, allowing the light to penetrate her room and scatter the shadows to the far reaches of her apartment.

No darkness, no secrets; not anymore.

Her bathroom came next. This was the tricky part. The counters were nearly bare, filled with nothing but a brush, comb, shampoo, and the regular necessities for morning preparation: a tooth brush, tooth paste, face cream, and soap. There was no make-up, she didn't wear make-up and she doubted she ever would. Maybe a light dash every now and then but never more. She didn't really know what to do with this room, it was hers, solely and completely, so she didn't do anything. She only brought nicer towels and a more expensive brand of toilet paper. That was bound to make her feel better, right?

Something that said she deserved a little pampering every now and then, and wasn't opposed to it at all.

Her apartment received a whole new theme, by the time she was finished it looked like it belonged to a successful woman in her prime-twenties. Not the brooding abode of a teenager. She packed up every picture of Brandon, the boss that she caught cheating with another co-worker, and threw his "box" in her closet. Then she pulled out Trunks' "box"–one she had packed up nearly five years ago, now, and hidden away as if he no longer existed, erasing him from her life–and filled the mantle of her fireplace with pictures of her, Trunks, and a child-Goku in space.

Her apartment had no room for regrets and neither did her heart.

Finally, it was time to work on her. She wasn't the same Pan that had been a broken, heaving mess a few weeks ago. She was someone completely different, grown up, and she wanted her outward appearance to reflect that.

She was smart, and strong, and independent. She was Son, Pan: strongest female Saiyan, grand-daughter of Goku and daughter of Gohan, two of the strongest men on alive, and a woman. She was a woman.

#######

Trunks wasn't sure which one of them threw the first punch, he couldn't remember anything past the look on Bra's face as he rocked her to sleep, broken in his arms. He couldn't get past the part where he wanted to pulverize Goten for the suffering of his sister, to think about the reason why Goten should want to pulverize him. All that he knew was that he was swinging and Goten was swinging back.

They were both throwing punches, moving with fierceness across his backyard, at approximately the same speed, neither one of them actually landing anything on the other. Occasionally their fists would brush each other, their knuckles slamming into each other with a cracking force, but more than not their rough intentions landed on air and got carried away by the wind.

Goten attempted a round kick that Trunks challenged with an uppercut, both of them slamming the other in the jaw, their necks snapping back with the sickening thump of bone knocking bone. Goten powered up, his dark hair turning a flowing golden, and clamped his hands together as if in prayer before slamming them into Trunks' neck and sending him flying swiftly to the ground.

Trunks slowed himself in the air, powering up to match Goten's level, eyes changing from a an ocean of anger to frozen ice. He looked up at the waiting Goten and smirked; the boy followed with a smug look of his own as he flew down to meet Trunks half-way.

Their movements became less fierce, more practiced and eased as they became more comfortable with each other. Trunks swung, Goten ducked and swung a kick, Trunks jumped and shot an energy beam. Goten was already coming behind Trunks and Trunks was already moving to the side to avoid the body slam Goten had aimed at him. They threw a round of punches, both of them silently counting the other: one, two, three, four. Up, down, right, down, Trunks. Up, down, left, down, Goten.

Neither of them could hit the other suddenly, seeming to slow their movements, seeming to lose sight of why they were fighting, they became immersed only in the fact that they sparring again. In a dance that only old friends could know, they moved around and around each other, swinging, kicking, throwing ki blasts, screaming, and never hitting the other.

They both powered up again. Trunks' eyes landed on Goten's as they paused, breathing hard. Suddenly, they weren't almost forty-year-old-men fighting because they had screwed up their lives, and they weren't rivals at the end of different spectrums, suddenly, they were children again. Trunks was seven, Goten was six, and they were arguing over which of them deserved to win the wold tournament.

Trunks was grinning lopsidedly and telling Goten not to be mad at him for winning; promising that Goten could pick out anyone of his toys if he were forgiven. Goten was already moving on to which toy he was going to pick and the fight had been all but forgotten.

Suddenly, they were both smiling slightly, landing on the grass of Trunks' back yard. There was an awkward moment after they had both powered down, where both men looked at each as if wondering what came next. Goten moved in and so did Trunks, as if to embrace, and then remembered how old they were and who they were. More importantly, what gender.

Guys didn't hug other guys. Goten settled for clapping him on the back roughly and giving him a goofy Son grin before turning serious again. Trunks returned the favor and then they settled back into their previous awkwardness, both of them having realized that they were very angry with the other. Goten glared first, Trunks having finally realized why it was that Goten was so pissed at him. Then Bra flashed in his mind and he returned the glare full force.

"We're not going to settle things this way," Goten ventured, pointing between him and Trunks to silently say 'fighting'.

"Obviously." Trunks replied sarcastically, crossing his arms.

"But we've got to settle it." He stated firmly.

"Once again with the obvious."

"Shut-up before I lodge my foot right up your-"

"I'm not exactly happy with you either Goten, so give it your best shot." Both of them tensed up again, staring each other down, daring each other to make a move. Their gazes locked, neither of them blinking, barely breathing. It was a dominance game, clearly, and neither of them were going to give any headway.

Then Trunks remembered Pan's face when she walked out of his room. Bra's shuddering, shaking body was pushed in the back of his mind as he remembered brushing the tears off Pan's cheeks and who had caused those tears.

And Goten remembered Bra's angry stare in his direction, her indifferent face when she answered the door and saw him there, the pain he saw in the hallows of her eyes. Both of them gave at the same time.

When their eyes crept up to each other's again, both sets of them were alight with humiliation and shame. Clearly humbled, Goten responded with a gentle,

"Don't break her heart again." That came out more pleading than warning.

Trunks nodded agreeably, feeling a guilty flush roar over his face. Sighing, he set the same pleading look to Goten and responded with, "And she won't survive another disappointment, Goten. If you're the reason she receives one, I'll never forgive you."

"I don't want to hurt her. Ever." Goten agreed, closing his eyes in pain. "I had no idea that Bra,...I mean, of the extent of it. If I had known..."

"Don't do that." Trunks admonished, sighing deeply. "Because, if you say that, then it gives you the upper-hand. I knew I was killing Pan and I did it anyway. But I don't think I knew what I was doing...not really. If I'd known what it felt like–"

"Shut-up, Trunks. It wouldn't have changed a thing." Goten admonished lightly. "We all need to learn from our mistakes. Let's just..."

"Keep the past...in the past?" Trunks suggested hopefully. He hadn't realized, until right then, how important Goten's forgiveness was to him. He wouldn't be whole without his best friend's respect, no matter the fact that they hadn't exactly been close these last few years.

Paris had monopolized Goten's time and Capsule had stolen Trunks'. Somewhere, in the midst of all that, they just drifted apart. But now, Trunks realized, they were teetering at the edge, between real friendship again and indifference for the rest of their lives. Trunks felt his heart jump up in his chest as he prayed silently that they would find their balance again.

He hadn't been aware that he needed Goten this much, as odd as that thought sounded resounding through his head. But it was true. His life had been off track since Bra left and he'd just assumed that it was because he was missing his little sister. He had thought that his little sister, the girl he spent most of his life cherishing and protecting, was gone from him and he missed her more than he could compensate for.

Only, he realized now, it wasn't just Bra he missed. When Bra left his life, so did Goten. And so did Pan. Goten had immersed himself in the woman that he proclaimed to love with all his heart and Pan he had simply pushed away. Without them, life seemed empty at best. Goten and Pan, he finally admitted, had been his best friends. And he had lost them at the same time that he lost the first and only true-love of his life: his sister.

Now he was on the verge of losing them all again. He wouldn't survive the fallout this time, the thought scared him senseless. This time, he wouldn't lose them on accident or because of some small mistake, this time he would lose them because he was stupid. He was stupid, callous, and careless. How would he ever find the strength to forgive himself? How would they ever find the strength to forgive him?

He didn't expect Pan to forgive him, but he prayed that he wouldn't lose Goten over that same mistake as well. And then there was Bra, who could very easily hate him for the fact that he had been very inattentive to her feelings, completely ignorant to the fact that she was losing all of her hope. He hadn't helped her and he was supposed to.

If he couldn't protect his little sister, who could he protect? He couldn't even protect himself, in the end. The thought alarmed him. He had to find some way, if only in small part, to fix this. He had to redeem the part of himself that he'd lost. Where had he gotten the impression that he could do what he'd done? Where had he forgotten about morals and decided to throw everything to the wind?

Why hadn't he stopped himself? Or, more importantly, why hadn't someone else stopped him?

"Exactly," Goten finally agreed, a wary look still in his eyes. "No condemnation." Trunks exhaled a silent breath of relief.

#######

Pan felt new; a completely different person. She had a shine in her eyes that hadn't been there before, a brighter color that circulated from her body all the way through her soul. There was a smile on her face that drifted from the inside of her all the way to the outside. Her body felt lighter, stronger, and she felt rejuvenated.

The phone call from Bra had come unexpected but not un-welcomed. She hadn't even hesitated on responding positively to the girl's inquiry about training. She was glad that Bra had decided to take up the fighting again; she had been afraid that she would give it up just because of ...certain circumstances.

She never had found out what exactly happened between Goten, Paris, and Bra. She just knew that Goten wasn't getting married to Paris and that was all. There hadn't been further details beyond that point and Goten "didn't want to talk about it." And, really, Pan didn't blame him or pressure him because she hadn't wanted to talk about anything that happened between her and Trunks.

And he had asked.

He had only had one opportunity to talk to her about the situation and that had only been because she hadn't known that he knew about her and Trunks. Apparently, he found out the same night that he and Paris ended things, which just happened to be the same night she and Trunks had their last...encounter.

If she had been calmer that one night, her uncle might never have found out about it at all. But, she shook the notion off, silently chastising herself, she wasn't keeping those kinds of secrets anymore. And she wasn't thinking back, regretting anything. Life is what it is, she reminded herself, and what's done is already done. There were a million different phrases that summarized exactly that and it wasn't for no reason. It was obviously the best advice that she could give herself.

If it was over, let it go. And she had. She had been doing fairly well with this new her; rarely had she fallen back to the old habit of thinking about what she could have changed, or wishing things were different then what they were. She was accepting herself for what she was, her situation for the way it was, and she was accepting everything that happened, exactly how it happened.

Of course, she wasn't perfectly adjusted but she managed improve more each day. There were some days where she barely thought negatively of Trunks at all. Days where she only put-down herself once or twice, and that was saying something. Her every breathing, moving moment, before the new her, had been filled with hate and disgust towards herself. Not anymore.

She walked up to Capsule without hesitation, only giving a slight pondering thought to what would happen if she were to run into Trunks. It would be awkward, she knew, because there were still unresolved issues with him that needed to be dealt with but, at the same time, it would be slightly liberating for her. In a sense, she wanted to see him just to discover how she would react to it. She needed to know where was on the emotional roller-coaster of loving Trunks Briefs. On the other hand, she wasn't sure if she was ready.

Bra's answering the door the second she got there made it clear that Pan wouldn't have to ponder in that line of thought anymore. By the look on the young girl's face, it was plainly clear that either she or Trunks himself was making sure they didn't cross paths. Pan smiled at the wary expression on her face that quickly melted to shocked confusion.

"Pan?" Bra questioned, sounding astonished. Pan quirked an eyebrow in response.

"You cut your hair...off..."

She could see the panic in Bra's face as the older girl stared. An awed sort-of curiosity, and she could nearly read her thoughts. Pan almost laughed out loud as she watched Bra's face. "No," Pan started, before Bra could lay into her. "I haven't lost my mind. No, I'm not having a pre-mid-life crisis. And, yes, I am okay. This doesn't have anything to do, before you ask, with your brother or what happened between us. I did this for me, Bra."

Then Pan let out a mirthful laugh and shook her head because Bra was still standing, shocked, with her mouth open. "And I didn't cut it off," Pan corrected. "I just cut it a little above my chin."

Pan was wearing orange training pants and a white wife-beater. Her hair was styled in a cut that was longer in the front than back, stopping at her chin in the front and slanting up in a 'v' in back. In her head, holding her hair back, was that old, orange bandana. Clearly, something had changed but it wasn't her hair.

"Well," Bra recovered quickly, moving aside so Pan could come in. "I think it looks better that way, actually." And truthfully, Bra did. She really did. Of course, it could have just been the radiant smile on Pan's face that had Bra thinking that. The same smile that had just had her fumbling for words to explain what she was thinking about Pan.

"Anyway, let's go get some training done." Bra gave her own breath-taking smile, feeling that she could give as well as she could get.

She had been feeling better these days as well. She hadn't seen Goten since his fight with her brother, and she hadn't stayed around to watch that play out. But Trunks had come back in a better mood, which suggests that all went well. And, in the end, that was all that mattered.

After all, she couldn't miss something she had never had. And, Goten, she had never had. So, if Pan could be this energetic and happy after her ordeal with Trunks–whom she could have had, did have, and still could have–then certainly Bra could at least find a small smile after the whole Goten ordeal. Especially because she could literally feel the good aura around Pan and knew that the girl wasn't putting on airs just so everyone thought she was recovering and she really wasn't.

If Pan could be genuinely happy after everything, then Bra could be too. She had a fighter spirit and this she was going to fight with all her being.

#######

Vegita grunted as his woman watched the girls head out into the GR and then shift her eyes from them to ceiling, where his oldest brat's room was, in silent thought. She was unhappy, clearly, with the way things were turning out. He had known she would be, had thought of talking her out of it multiple times without succumbing to the desire, and still had to fight the urge to gloat about having told her so.

He believed things would work themselves out in due time, knew about Saiyans and their possessiveness issues, and he also knew his children. Even the ones not directly related to him by blood. They were going to find a way to be happy, no matter what, but that didn't change the fact that now he had two unhappy Saiyans and an unhappy woman, because of them, living in his house.

Bulma sighed and came to the kitchen table, taking a seat opposite Vegita. He didn't look up from his food as she sat down, but she let her eyes bore into him until he grunted and dropped his chop-sticks.

"What?" He asked lightly, tone menacing. No one interrupted his eating. Unless, of course, you were Bulma and you weren't happy with something.

"What are we going to do?" She questioned without hesitation, unconcerned with his tone. He glared but didn't ignore her question–though he wanted to.

"Nothing. They got themselves into their messes, they'll get themselves out."

"But Veg–" his grunt cut her off.

"No buts, woman, they'll get themselves out." He started eating again but, after another few moments, he couldn't hold it in anymore. "You still think you did the right thing by pushing Trunks and Pan together? You still think she's going to forgive him?" He was taunting her, he knew, but he couldn't resist the urge to make her second-guess herself. Maybe this would teach the woman to mind her own business once and for all. Then, remembering who it was he was talking about, maybe not.

Bulma bit her lip for a long moment in contemplation, looking out the window at the memory of her daughter and the girl in question going towards the GR. The girl who looked nothing like the person she had been no less than a week or so ago. Finally, she sighed and met Vegita's eyes. "I just...don't know. I don't know anything anymore."

Her answer satisfied the part of him that made her want to admit she didn't know it all. That woman all thought she had all the answers, it was nice to get her at a point where she admitted she didn't have any. Then again, it was also disheartening; though he'd never admit it to anyone, he loved the way she took initiative and handled things anyway she knew how. Secretly, he didn't want that to die.

Sighing, he pushed his food away and lightly brushed his hand against hers before looking her in the eyes. "They'll be okay." He told her earnestly, watching her eyes light with the hope he was so used to seeing in those blue orbs of hers. "I promise."

Vegita never made promises he couldn't keep.

#######

She had taken nearly a month's leave of absence from work and felt incredibly guilty about it. Even though the vindictive part of her said that even if Trunks wanted to, he couldn't say anything to her and he deserved what he got, the other parts of her felt horrible waves of conscience washing over her body. She should have come back sooner.

Everyone in her part of the office was eyeing her curiously, each of them asking her where she'd been with their looks. She could hear the questions shooting off in their heads as if they were asking them out loud. She could practically recall the rumors they had spread about her, even though she hadn't heard them. She knew what she would have said about someone being gone for so long and then coming back to work as if nothing were different; especially if that someone were a person the boss seemed to be especially mean to.

They could think a million things about her but she knew the truth; she thought stubbornly, proudly, with her head held high. In the end, they didn't matter. Only she mattered. She walked past them all without wavering in her smile or faltering in her step, right into her office even though her heart was pounding a million times a minute.

She should have come back sooner.

The thought persisted even though she knew that this was a job that she hadn't even wanted in the first place. She had been blackmailed into it. So why did she care what she should and shouldn't have done for a job she didn't even want?

She knew why. It was the responsibility of the matter. Whether she wanted the job or not, it was her job, she had signed a contract, and she hadn't been holding up her end of the bargain. But, more than that, she had left Trunks without an explanation as to when she was coming back, or even if she was coming back, and she felt guilty.

She had left Trunks.

And she missed him. She hated admitting it, she hated thinking about it, but she honestly missed him. She wanted to see his face. She wanted to know if her heart would swell or wither. Would she be affected at all? Had she removed him from her heart?

She hadn't seen him in nearly a month. She was shaking with anticipation and yet she wasn't sure if she wanted to run into him at all. Out of sight, out of mind. Maybe her life would be better if she didn't run into him at all. Ever again.

Even though Pan knew that was impossible, she still had the thought. She had to see him sometime, she knew, even if only to explain how she felt. To finally get some closure.

She walked over to her desk and looked down at it; it was undisturbed except for a brown folder that sat on top of some papers she had been working on. Apparently, no one had been doing her job while she was out- which was odd because there were a couple people under her position that usually took over what she couldn't do.

Shrugging, she picked up the folder and sat down, flipping through the paperwork with curiosity. A few seconds later, after realizing what it was she was reading, her hands froze and her entire body tensed up. She couldn't believe this was happening. She couldn't believe that after all of that, he was still finding a way to hurt her.

Her hands clinched around the papers she was holding, crinkling them with vengeance. Her lips curled as she tore the papers apart, refusing to sign them. He wasn't going to do that to her. He wasn't going to get the best of her. Not this time, she would show him.

It looked like she was going to see him a lot sooner than she thought.

How dare he fire her? She was not going to get fired, even if she hadn't wanted this job in the first place. It was the principle, the pride, of the matter. This was her job and, damn it all, it would still be her job tomorrow. She wouldn't let him take the coward's way out. Not this time.

To be continued...

sidenote: I'm so sorry guys. I tried to edit this one, I really did, but I just couldn't make myself read it. I got half-way through and then my attention went wandering again. I have too much to do today. So I just decided to update and forget it. Consequently, this chapter really is un-edited. I haven't even re-read it. . (When I said, last chapter, that it was seriously un-edited, that meant that I had only re-read it and I hadn't edited it. Usually I edit my chapters three times, twice before I upload it and then once after.)

Anyway, this is IMPORTANT so please read it: I'm going on vacation in August. August 1st through the 8th, and on August 9th we go back to school (I'm going to be a senior, yay!). Why does this matter to you? Well, since I probably won't have regular internet access, I will not be updating until after I get back. I'm so sorry. (That's why I added that last paragraph, so it wouldn't be a cliffhanger, but I seriously considered just leaving it off.) I'll try and get something out before I leave, but I doubt I'll be able to.

Somehow, I think you'll live.