Hello My People! Thank you so much for all your support and understanding.
Please continue on reading my story and I'm going to try to update more
often. Oh, and this is the momentous occasion, when the decision
will.almost.be made!
*One week later *
Trunks leaned over Pan, no tears running down his cheeks, unlike most of the rest of the week. Pan had not awoken. Trunks had spent every waking moment at her side, whispering words of love into her ears, caressing her hands and face, sitting in silence, doing anything he had thought might reach her in her state. Nothing had availed. Pan had remained unconscious through all of Trunks' valiant efforts.
Trunks continued to stare down into Pan's face, considering whether he should admit his deal with his mother of the choice he had made for his future if, where Pan was, she could hear him and that would encourage her to return to her body. He decided that it might be beneficial, or it might at least help her have the initiative to return. "I've made a decision, my love." said Trunks. "If you don't look up at me with those beautiful dark brown eyes in two hours, I'm going to go to sleep too." He shook a small bottle of sleeping pills in Pan's direction. His voice became deadly calm as he said, "Maybe I'll see you again eventually."
Bulma walked into the room already dressed in black. Her blue hair had been styled to perfection, as this was going to be a very public affair. Everyone wanted to mourn the little foster child of the great Brief family, but no on truly wanted to support Bulma and Trunks through their loss. She looked lovely, but she was very solemn. She had been forced to make the funeral arrangements, overruling the half-hearted protests Trunks had given. Even Trunk's protests had faded as the week went on until he only had a final resort. He showed he last resistance by not dressing for the funeral.
Trunks turned his head to look at his mother for a second, nod a greeting, and turn back to his dream-lover, knowing that if she was to wake up, he wanted himself to be the first thing she saw when she awoke, his love shining down on her. "She's going to wake up, Mom, I know it!" Trunks had said up until now. As the two months, and now down to one week, had gone on, he had grown quieter and quieter until at this state he only spoke to ask Pan's condition. He had a full-blown purple beard now, a few shades darker than his hair, and had lost tremendous amounts of weight. He was starting to rival Pan for raggedness, and he didn't even care. Trunks used to take pride in looking good at all times, looking put together, and no that was the last thing on his mind. He couldn't care less; the only thing he wanted was to make his love wake up.
Bulma felt tears come to her eyes as she watched her son, her last touch on Vegeta, degenerate before her eyes. It was like experiencing Vegeta's demise all over again, a slow demise and one that had been immensely painful, and now she was watching her one baby boy go through the same thing. Bulma pushed away her tears through pure willpower, wanting to just sit down and cry out all of her pain and anxiety about what Trunks would do it, no, when, Pan did not wake up. She had an idea, but Bulma hoped it wouldn't go that far.
"Okay, Mom, you win." Trunks rose to his feet, his head hanging low. "I give up. She's dead." He sank to sit in a chair, raising his eyes to look her straight in the face, his face showing his remorse, but his eyes were dead. "Call in the doctor, Mom. Pull the plug. I'll sign the papers, give my consent." He rose from his chair, suddenly empowered with passion. "I'm done being strong! I'm done being the only one who believes! Even you abandoned me in my belief, and I can't stand alone! I'm not that strong! Maybe if someone else had believed, but all on my own.I just can't do it."
Bulma didn't know what to say, except the incredibly unsatisfactory, "I'm sorry, son.So sorry." She turned on her heel, stalked out of the room, and returned with Dr. Malone. "Doctor, I believe my son has made a decision."
Dr. Malone, a young woman, responded with, "Very well, Mrs. Vegeta. What have you decided?"
"Bring me the damn papers. I'll sign them," Trunks said, his voice suddenly short and frightening. "Well, get to it, before I decide to kill her myself. Wait.I already am."
"Oh, no sir, you're doing the correct thing. You're only holding on to false hope!" Dr. Malone recognized to look on Trunks' face and left immediately. Bulma, not really realizing what had gone on between Dr. Malone and Trunks, tried futilely to comfort her son.
"Trunks, you know you are doing the correct thing. She will be happier in heaven than suffering in this life." Bulma reached out and touched her son on the shoulder, only to recoil. His skin felt cold.As cold as Pan's. "Trunks? TRUNKS?!?" She reached and shook him, but there was no response. "Trunks.No! I can't loose both of you in one fell swoop!" Bulma collapsed on the floor, clutching her head in her hands, remembering a time that had happened just a week ago.
~***************~
Trunks looked around himself, amazed at what he saw around him. There were hundreds of people looking around, dazed. He reached out to touch one, but his hand passed straight though. "Wha..?" he started to ask, but then he spotted Pan. She was the beautiful self that he remembered her as, with long flowing black hair and beautiful brown eyes, haunted by things long in her past. The only thing that truly reminded him of her condition was the tatters of her favorite dress that hung around her, covering enough that she didn't want seen, but leaving the rest open to view.
"Trunks?" She reached out him. He forced himself to stretch out to her, though he knew that when he couldn't touch her he would feel definitely worse than now. He would know that she was dead for all these months, and that he was the only reason that she had remained.
And her hand.
* End of Chapter 11!
Thank you for reading! Expect another chapter in two weeks! Love to all reviewers! Continue, please!
Love all, Pan-chan
*One week later *
Trunks leaned over Pan, no tears running down his cheeks, unlike most of the rest of the week. Pan had not awoken. Trunks had spent every waking moment at her side, whispering words of love into her ears, caressing her hands and face, sitting in silence, doing anything he had thought might reach her in her state. Nothing had availed. Pan had remained unconscious through all of Trunks' valiant efforts.
Trunks continued to stare down into Pan's face, considering whether he should admit his deal with his mother of the choice he had made for his future if, where Pan was, she could hear him and that would encourage her to return to her body. He decided that it might be beneficial, or it might at least help her have the initiative to return. "I've made a decision, my love." said Trunks. "If you don't look up at me with those beautiful dark brown eyes in two hours, I'm going to go to sleep too." He shook a small bottle of sleeping pills in Pan's direction. His voice became deadly calm as he said, "Maybe I'll see you again eventually."
Bulma walked into the room already dressed in black. Her blue hair had been styled to perfection, as this was going to be a very public affair. Everyone wanted to mourn the little foster child of the great Brief family, but no on truly wanted to support Bulma and Trunks through their loss. She looked lovely, but she was very solemn. She had been forced to make the funeral arrangements, overruling the half-hearted protests Trunks had given. Even Trunk's protests had faded as the week went on until he only had a final resort. He showed he last resistance by not dressing for the funeral.
Trunks turned his head to look at his mother for a second, nod a greeting, and turn back to his dream-lover, knowing that if she was to wake up, he wanted himself to be the first thing she saw when she awoke, his love shining down on her. "She's going to wake up, Mom, I know it!" Trunks had said up until now. As the two months, and now down to one week, had gone on, he had grown quieter and quieter until at this state he only spoke to ask Pan's condition. He had a full-blown purple beard now, a few shades darker than his hair, and had lost tremendous amounts of weight. He was starting to rival Pan for raggedness, and he didn't even care. Trunks used to take pride in looking good at all times, looking put together, and no that was the last thing on his mind. He couldn't care less; the only thing he wanted was to make his love wake up.
Bulma felt tears come to her eyes as she watched her son, her last touch on Vegeta, degenerate before her eyes. It was like experiencing Vegeta's demise all over again, a slow demise and one that had been immensely painful, and now she was watching her one baby boy go through the same thing. Bulma pushed away her tears through pure willpower, wanting to just sit down and cry out all of her pain and anxiety about what Trunks would do it, no, when, Pan did not wake up. She had an idea, but Bulma hoped it wouldn't go that far.
"Okay, Mom, you win." Trunks rose to his feet, his head hanging low. "I give up. She's dead." He sank to sit in a chair, raising his eyes to look her straight in the face, his face showing his remorse, but his eyes were dead. "Call in the doctor, Mom. Pull the plug. I'll sign the papers, give my consent." He rose from his chair, suddenly empowered with passion. "I'm done being strong! I'm done being the only one who believes! Even you abandoned me in my belief, and I can't stand alone! I'm not that strong! Maybe if someone else had believed, but all on my own.I just can't do it."
Bulma didn't know what to say, except the incredibly unsatisfactory, "I'm sorry, son.So sorry." She turned on her heel, stalked out of the room, and returned with Dr. Malone. "Doctor, I believe my son has made a decision."
Dr. Malone, a young woman, responded with, "Very well, Mrs. Vegeta. What have you decided?"
"Bring me the damn papers. I'll sign them," Trunks said, his voice suddenly short and frightening. "Well, get to it, before I decide to kill her myself. Wait.I already am."
"Oh, no sir, you're doing the correct thing. You're only holding on to false hope!" Dr. Malone recognized to look on Trunks' face and left immediately. Bulma, not really realizing what had gone on between Dr. Malone and Trunks, tried futilely to comfort her son.
"Trunks, you know you are doing the correct thing. She will be happier in heaven than suffering in this life." Bulma reached out and touched her son on the shoulder, only to recoil. His skin felt cold.As cold as Pan's. "Trunks? TRUNKS?!?" She reached and shook him, but there was no response. "Trunks.No! I can't loose both of you in one fell swoop!" Bulma collapsed on the floor, clutching her head in her hands, remembering a time that had happened just a week ago.
~***************~
Trunks looked around himself, amazed at what he saw around him. There were hundreds of people looking around, dazed. He reached out to touch one, but his hand passed straight though. "Wha..?" he started to ask, but then he spotted Pan. She was the beautiful self that he remembered her as, with long flowing black hair and beautiful brown eyes, haunted by things long in her past. The only thing that truly reminded him of her condition was the tatters of her favorite dress that hung around her, covering enough that she didn't want seen, but leaving the rest open to view.
"Trunks?" She reached out him. He forced himself to stretch out to her, though he knew that when he couldn't touch her he would feel definitely worse than now. He would know that she was dead for all these months, and that he was the only reason that she had remained.
And her hand.
* End of Chapter 11!
Thank you for reading! Expect another chapter in two weeks! Love to all reviewers! Continue, please!
Love all, Pan-chan