Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.
Author's Notes: Did y'all like last chapter? Thanks to my reviewers Omega and Anonymous Cat. One long chapter this time.
Chapter 21: Peace
Jita walked into the room, consciously reminding herself to drop her guard. She still tried to react to every bump and jostle as an attack. And that wouldn't do.
The class was Philosophy, and she wasn't sure of what to expect. What would these humans expect from her? Philosophy was fascinating, but she'd said things in class discussions before that made everyone edge away from her. What was so wrong with killing if it was done for survival purposes, anyway?
Jita sat and pulled her books out. The back rows had already been taken, so she had to get a seat on the front row. That was alright with her.
"Alright, class. This is Intro. to Philosophy. If you're not taking this class, you're in the wrong classroom."
Jita's head jerked up at the sound of the familiar voice. It couldn't be. Neither Kami nor any other god would subject her to this. Yet, there he was: Professor Gohan Son, in a conservative outfit that couldn't quite conceal his well-defined muscles, making the contrast with his horn-rimmed glasses ludicrous. He was making a show of struggling with the large stack of books, when long years of strength training, as well as studying, had made that action second-nature to him. She couldn't understand why he so strictly not only controlled, but concealed his strength.
"Well, since this is such a small class, why don't we all introduce ourselves - tell where we're from, our major, hobbies - just something interesting to remember. I'd like all of you do know each other to make the class discussions more interesting. I'll start. My name is Gohan Son, I live in here in Satan City. I have a degree in philosophy, as well as physics - which I teach a few more classes in. Now, I think we'll start over here . . . oh, hello, Jita. I didn't know you where in here."
Jita crossed her arms, not liking the idea of this 'introduction.' "I got in this class late."
Gohan laughed. "Alright, why don't you start?"
Jita sighed in frustration and stood. She really didn't like doing this. She was tempted to embarrass Gohan by telling all about him, but he might do the same for her, and she wasn't sure how far he would go. She liked to keep a low profile among the humans. "My name, as you can guess, is Jita - no last name. Never needed one. Where I'm from is none of your concern. When I'm not living in Saunders Hall, I live at Capsule Corp. I have a double major in English and Philosophy, and my hobbies are reading and fighting. That is all you need know."
As Jita sat down, she felt the class eyeing her. She'd done it yet again - alienated (ironic word) everyone around her. But right now, she just didn't care. She was too busy watching Gohan trying to keep from laughing. "OK, Jita, that's good enough. Umm, Joanna, why don't you go next?"
Jita turned around in her desk to see her former roommate pale. Not only was the poor girl having a class with the person she feared most, her professor was acquainted with the psycho. Joanna was not having a good day. She was able to squeak out her name and major, and hastily sat, wanting to escape Jita's gaze.
The class went by rapidly, and Jita was intrigued by the extent of Gohan's knowledge, as well as his personality in front of a class. He never exuded so much confidence in regular life, or even in battle. He passed out the syllabus, went through a quick overview, and let the class out ten minutes early.
Jita was packing her books, but her ears couldn't help picking up a certain conversation in the back of the classroom.
"What's up with that chick Dr. Son knows?"
"Ugh. She was my roommate, but I got out of that soon as I could. The chick's a psycho - seriously disturbed. I won't get within ten feet of her. She might try to bite me, or something."
"Sounds freaky. Hey, maybe if she does bite me, I could get out of this class."
The laughter faded into the hallway, and Jita was left standing there, forgetting about her books. That conversation disturbed her more than she liked.
"Jita? Are you alright?"
Jita snapped out of her thoughts, and zipped up her bookbag. "Yeah, I'm fine, Gohan. Why wouldn't I be fine?"
Gohan smiled through his concerned look. "You know, I'm glad you're in this class. You'll bring a fresh perspective to this class. I get so tired of hearing the same things from sheltered college students. It'll be different."
Jita looked at him levelly. "Why? Because I'm twenty years your senior?"
"Heh, no. I've taught older people before. That's no problem. I've just never taught a Saiyan princess before."
For once, Jita laughed. "And never will again, I'll bet." She picked up her bag and slung in over her back, preparing to walk to her next class."
"Oh, Jita?" Jita turned back to face Gohan. "Don't worry about what those others say. Closeminded people like that are the first to wash out or fail this class. Don't pay attention to them."
He was thinking she needed reassuring, like a child. This would not do. "I don't pay attention to what others think about me. And I AM older and stronger than you. I am not one of these children. Don't try to coddle me."
Jita knew her tone was harsh, but Gohan seemed to take it in stride. Maybe he'd grown so used to these responses from Vegeta, that it just didn't phase him anymore. But it just made him look smug, and that just made Jita even angrier. Before she could start an unproductive argument, she turned from his sympathetic smile and left.
*****
"Kakarrot!"
Jita landed outside of the Son house, intent on sparring with the man. Vegeta and Trunks were unavailable, and she needed to let out some stem, i.e. pound someone's face.
Instead of the disgustingly cheerful and equally powerful man, Chichi stepped out of the house. "He's not here right now."
For the first time in many years, Jita childishly stamped her foot in frustration, sending quake-like tremors in the immediate area.
Chichi regained her footing and suddenly desperately didn't want the other woman to leave. The loneliness was getting to her, now that Goten was gone and Pan was back in school. "Hey, do you want coffee, or tea? I've got a kettle on the stove."
Jita was surprised to find herself accepting this offer. The only alternatives were (a) study or (b) train by herself. It seemed Jita was equally lonely and equally crazy.
Jita had never been in the house, and she was struck by how neat it was, compared to the living quarters at Capsule Corp. It seemed Chichi had nothing else to do but clean house . . . and make superb tea.
The tea had a calming effect on Jita, and she began to relax. She realized she had been tense - too tense. In body and mind. Now, for the first time in a while, she could breathe easily.
Uncomfortable with human pleasantries, all Jita could say was, "This is well-made tea."
Chichi smiled. "Thank you. I'm never sure. The boys would always gulp it down before they could even taste it." The smile melted, revealing a tired, middle-aged woman. Jita shifted uncomfortably, not sure of what to say. 'I'm about Chichi's age,' she realized.
Chichi seemed to shake herself out of her reverie. "So, how's . . . um . . ." What? School . . . job . . . training . . . life?
Jita smiled sardonically. "Do you realize people get fired for yelling at customers?"
This struck Chichi as strangely hilarious, making her laugh more than she had in a while. She was surprised to see Jita shaking silently with laughter.
Chichi regained her composure, but didn't lose her good humor. "I don't see how you made time for that job anyway. Bulma told me you never rest."
And it was beginning to show. Indeed Jita never rested, and her eyes were starting to get a permanent 'dead-tired' look to them.
"Yes, now that I don't have a job, I have more time for training and studying."
Chichi was starting to worry about the other woman. "You have to rest sometime. For your health and sanity. At least sleep."
Jita snorted in derision. "How can sleep help my sanity if I have nightmares every time I close my eyes?" She paused. "I can't believe I just told you that."
But Chichi was in her element. It had been so long since she'd had someone to help. "You need to talk to someone about these things. It makes the burden lighter."
"You know, my own mother used to say that. At least, that's what Vegeta told me. I was too young when she died to remember her. She wasn't considered very warrior-like. But sometimes her advice kept me going better than every fighting skill I had."
Jita seemed to go lost in thought, and Chichi realized just how different she was from her brother. Jita just seemed to be of a different flavor, though nothing Chichi could put her finger on.
The two women talked long into the afternoon, finding many things in common. By the time Jita had to leave, her frustration was gone, and she felt she could face another day.
And, you know? So did Chichi.
*****
The island was beautiful. There were no signs of any previous visit by anyone, but this was the very island Gohan and Piccolo trained so many years ago, and it was the site of the deaths of Yamcha, Tien, Chaotzu, Piccolo, and Nappa. But now, it was at peace.
Goten was at peace.
For so long he had been the . . . sidekick. He was nobody without the other Saiyans. But now he was finding out who he was without anyone else. He trained. He thought. He figured things out, about himself and the world around him.
And he was getting stronger.
He no longer had the creature comforts that tended to soften people, make them less aware. Out here, alone, all his senses had reached their peak, including his ki-sense.
And he'd reached Super Saiyan level two a few days before. The only time he'd been able to break past level one was when he was fused to Trunks. But now his lonely training was truly paying off.
"Goten!"
Goten smiled easily, breaking out of his meditation. Two months before Tien and Chaotzu had sought him out, telling him that it wasn't healthy to be so long alone. Even Piccolo had visited. And unlike when his dad sought him out, he hadn't avoided them. But this wasn't Tien and Chaotzu.
This was Trunks.
"Hi, Trunks!"
The two greeted each other by throwing a few good-natured punches at each other. Trunks was surprised to see that Goten's speed and strength had increased dramatically. Full of curiosity and with a mischievous glint in his eye, he turned the punches more serous. Goten laughed, and the two started an all-out spar.
When the fight was over, Trunks was lying on the ground, with Goten staring down at him. Trunks narrowed his eyes slightly. "Looks like the wilderness has done you some good."
Goten smiled, delighted for proof of his well-earned new power. "Looks like you've been spending too much time on homework."
Trunks bristled slightly at this comment, but let it pass. "So, is this where you've been staying?"
"Yeah. I've tried other places, but none of them suited my purposes. I figured, if this was good for Gohan and Piccolo, it'd be good enough for me."
Trunks looked around, wide-eyed. "This is where . . . and that battle between everyone and my dad . . ."
"Yup. 'Cept I think our dads went somewhere else to fight."
Trunks looked around a bit more, trying to picture the battle so long ago.
Goten, however, was in no mood for reverie. "So, how's everyone?" he asked anxiously.
Trunks chuckled. "Your mom's fine."
'How can Trunks know me that well? Oh, yeah. We've been friends since practically birth.'
"She misses you, though. And your dad - he misses you too."
Goten gave a sharp bark of laughter. "Somehow I doubt that. My dad, I mean."
Trunks shifted uncomfortably. These were things not usually talked about openly, at least not in his house. "Your dad really does love you. He just . . . well . . . didn't know how to act around you."
"Yeah, well," Goten said noncommittally. But that did give him something to think about. "I'll go see Mom. Maybe tomorrow. Dad's usually not around in the late morning."
Trunks nodded, and the two talked on into the afternoon.
*****
Jita walked through the woods situated near Satan City, smiling slightly at the coolness of the day and the overcast sky. She knew it wouldn't last, though. Nothing lasted - life . . . or death.
Goten walked beside her, holding her hand. He didn't say anything. He was just - there. Reassuring. She wouldn't be alone.
Jita sighed. "Isn't it nice out here?"
Goten laughed. "I don't know. I guess I like it better when it's warm and sunny. This weather is just depressing."
"Well, I like it."
Goten's grip tightened painfully. "You would."
Jita paused at that. His tone in those two words was harder, making him seem angry and cold. She grew uncomfortable. "I can't stay here much longer. I have to study. I have a test tomorrow."
"You can't leave."
Jita paused, and turned to Goten. His glare seemed to pierce right through her. She suddenly felt so cold. But then he smiled brightly. "Because it's so beautiful out here."
Jita was seriously getting freaked out, and she wasn't sure why. She just felt the unbearable urge to run - get away from Goten. "No really. I have to go." She started to walk away, but Goten grabbed her wrist.
"I guess it wouldn't be beautiful for a soulless witch like you."
Jita's wrist started to burn in Goten's grip. She looked down, and her arm was slowly being eaten away by his energy, already showing the slowly blackening which bone.
"For someone who has murdered millions."
The burning was moving past her shoulder.
"For someone in hell. Isn't that right, Sarah?"
Jita twisted in Goten's grip as his voice became mingled with another, so familiar, voice - her master - from hell . . .
"NO!"
Jita twisted, suffocating in darkness. She couldn't even feel her arm. The cruel words of Goten echoed in her skull as she fell -
And hit the floor in a pile of bedclothes.
She looked around wildly, eyes twitching in paranoid panic as she tore the sheets off of her. Her pale skin glistened in a cold sweat. The words still echoed in her head.
"It was a dream. Just a dream. A dream. Calm down. Control. It was just a dream."
But the cruel face in Goten, looking so much like HIM, was burned on her eyes. She pulled herself onto her bed, truly grateful she was living alone. Despite all attempts she was still trembling, eyes refusing to close. All she could see was him. It was so extremely real. So real.
"But it was just a dream."
Jita finally stopped shaking, but there was no way she'd be able to sleep. She hauled herself onto her bed and grabbed her blanket around her to ward off the cold that had crept into her bones and refused to leave. Flicking on the lamp, she picked up her copy of Catch-22, preparing to fill another sleepless night.
"It was just a dream."
The burns on her arm could be explained.
Jita dropped the book with a gasp. The trembling came back in full force as she stared at the blistered skin between her wrist and elbow. The laughter, the taunting, the voice - of HIM - came back in full force. Urging her to kill. Taunting her for her weakness and fear. So much that Jita'd had enough.
"Leave me alone!"
It may not have been the most eloquent thing to say, but it got the job done. And after a good, strong cup of tea and a ki-healing of her arm, she was almost back to normal. No more pain, fear, panic, rage, torture . . .
Or, at least, she could pretend it wasn't there.
Just pretend it wasn't there.
And maybe she wouldn't lose her mind.
Maybe she could find peace.
Author's Notes: Did y'all like last chapter? Thanks to my reviewers Omega and Anonymous Cat. One long chapter this time.
Chapter 21: Peace
Jita walked into the room, consciously reminding herself to drop her guard. She still tried to react to every bump and jostle as an attack. And that wouldn't do.
The class was Philosophy, and she wasn't sure of what to expect. What would these humans expect from her? Philosophy was fascinating, but she'd said things in class discussions before that made everyone edge away from her. What was so wrong with killing if it was done for survival purposes, anyway?
Jita sat and pulled her books out. The back rows had already been taken, so she had to get a seat on the front row. That was alright with her.
"Alright, class. This is Intro. to Philosophy. If you're not taking this class, you're in the wrong classroom."
Jita's head jerked up at the sound of the familiar voice. It couldn't be. Neither Kami nor any other god would subject her to this. Yet, there he was: Professor Gohan Son, in a conservative outfit that couldn't quite conceal his well-defined muscles, making the contrast with his horn-rimmed glasses ludicrous. He was making a show of struggling with the large stack of books, when long years of strength training, as well as studying, had made that action second-nature to him. She couldn't understand why he so strictly not only controlled, but concealed his strength.
"Well, since this is such a small class, why don't we all introduce ourselves - tell where we're from, our major, hobbies - just something interesting to remember. I'd like all of you do know each other to make the class discussions more interesting. I'll start. My name is Gohan Son, I live in here in Satan City. I have a degree in philosophy, as well as physics - which I teach a few more classes in. Now, I think we'll start over here . . . oh, hello, Jita. I didn't know you where in here."
Jita crossed her arms, not liking the idea of this 'introduction.' "I got in this class late."
Gohan laughed. "Alright, why don't you start?"
Jita sighed in frustration and stood. She really didn't like doing this. She was tempted to embarrass Gohan by telling all about him, but he might do the same for her, and she wasn't sure how far he would go. She liked to keep a low profile among the humans. "My name, as you can guess, is Jita - no last name. Never needed one. Where I'm from is none of your concern. When I'm not living in Saunders Hall, I live at Capsule Corp. I have a double major in English and Philosophy, and my hobbies are reading and fighting. That is all you need know."
As Jita sat down, she felt the class eyeing her. She'd done it yet again - alienated (ironic word) everyone around her. But right now, she just didn't care. She was too busy watching Gohan trying to keep from laughing. "OK, Jita, that's good enough. Umm, Joanna, why don't you go next?"
Jita turned around in her desk to see her former roommate pale. Not only was the poor girl having a class with the person she feared most, her professor was acquainted with the psycho. Joanna was not having a good day. She was able to squeak out her name and major, and hastily sat, wanting to escape Jita's gaze.
The class went by rapidly, and Jita was intrigued by the extent of Gohan's knowledge, as well as his personality in front of a class. He never exuded so much confidence in regular life, or even in battle. He passed out the syllabus, went through a quick overview, and let the class out ten minutes early.
Jita was packing her books, but her ears couldn't help picking up a certain conversation in the back of the classroom.
"What's up with that chick Dr. Son knows?"
"Ugh. She was my roommate, but I got out of that soon as I could. The chick's a psycho - seriously disturbed. I won't get within ten feet of her. She might try to bite me, or something."
"Sounds freaky. Hey, maybe if she does bite me, I could get out of this class."
The laughter faded into the hallway, and Jita was left standing there, forgetting about her books. That conversation disturbed her more than she liked.
"Jita? Are you alright?"
Jita snapped out of her thoughts, and zipped up her bookbag. "Yeah, I'm fine, Gohan. Why wouldn't I be fine?"
Gohan smiled through his concerned look. "You know, I'm glad you're in this class. You'll bring a fresh perspective to this class. I get so tired of hearing the same things from sheltered college students. It'll be different."
Jita looked at him levelly. "Why? Because I'm twenty years your senior?"
"Heh, no. I've taught older people before. That's no problem. I've just never taught a Saiyan princess before."
For once, Jita laughed. "And never will again, I'll bet." She picked up her bag and slung in over her back, preparing to walk to her next class."
"Oh, Jita?" Jita turned back to face Gohan. "Don't worry about what those others say. Closeminded people like that are the first to wash out or fail this class. Don't pay attention to them."
He was thinking she needed reassuring, like a child. This would not do. "I don't pay attention to what others think about me. And I AM older and stronger than you. I am not one of these children. Don't try to coddle me."
Jita knew her tone was harsh, but Gohan seemed to take it in stride. Maybe he'd grown so used to these responses from Vegeta, that it just didn't phase him anymore. But it just made him look smug, and that just made Jita even angrier. Before she could start an unproductive argument, she turned from his sympathetic smile and left.
*****
"Kakarrot!"
Jita landed outside of the Son house, intent on sparring with the man. Vegeta and Trunks were unavailable, and she needed to let out some stem, i.e. pound someone's face.
Instead of the disgustingly cheerful and equally powerful man, Chichi stepped out of the house. "He's not here right now."
For the first time in many years, Jita childishly stamped her foot in frustration, sending quake-like tremors in the immediate area.
Chichi regained her footing and suddenly desperately didn't want the other woman to leave. The loneliness was getting to her, now that Goten was gone and Pan was back in school. "Hey, do you want coffee, or tea? I've got a kettle on the stove."
Jita was surprised to find herself accepting this offer. The only alternatives were (a) study or (b) train by herself. It seemed Jita was equally lonely and equally crazy.
Jita had never been in the house, and she was struck by how neat it was, compared to the living quarters at Capsule Corp. It seemed Chichi had nothing else to do but clean house . . . and make superb tea.
The tea had a calming effect on Jita, and she began to relax. She realized she had been tense - too tense. In body and mind. Now, for the first time in a while, she could breathe easily.
Uncomfortable with human pleasantries, all Jita could say was, "This is well-made tea."
Chichi smiled. "Thank you. I'm never sure. The boys would always gulp it down before they could even taste it." The smile melted, revealing a tired, middle-aged woman. Jita shifted uncomfortably, not sure of what to say. 'I'm about Chichi's age,' she realized.
Chichi seemed to shake herself out of her reverie. "So, how's . . . um . . ." What? School . . . job . . . training . . . life?
Jita smiled sardonically. "Do you realize people get fired for yelling at customers?"
This struck Chichi as strangely hilarious, making her laugh more than she had in a while. She was surprised to see Jita shaking silently with laughter.
Chichi regained her composure, but didn't lose her good humor. "I don't see how you made time for that job anyway. Bulma told me you never rest."
And it was beginning to show. Indeed Jita never rested, and her eyes were starting to get a permanent 'dead-tired' look to them.
"Yes, now that I don't have a job, I have more time for training and studying."
Chichi was starting to worry about the other woman. "You have to rest sometime. For your health and sanity. At least sleep."
Jita snorted in derision. "How can sleep help my sanity if I have nightmares every time I close my eyes?" She paused. "I can't believe I just told you that."
But Chichi was in her element. It had been so long since she'd had someone to help. "You need to talk to someone about these things. It makes the burden lighter."
"You know, my own mother used to say that. At least, that's what Vegeta told me. I was too young when she died to remember her. She wasn't considered very warrior-like. But sometimes her advice kept me going better than every fighting skill I had."
Jita seemed to go lost in thought, and Chichi realized just how different she was from her brother. Jita just seemed to be of a different flavor, though nothing Chichi could put her finger on.
The two women talked long into the afternoon, finding many things in common. By the time Jita had to leave, her frustration was gone, and she felt she could face another day.
And, you know? So did Chichi.
*****
The island was beautiful. There were no signs of any previous visit by anyone, but this was the very island Gohan and Piccolo trained so many years ago, and it was the site of the deaths of Yamcha, Tien, Chaotzu, Piccolo, and Nappa. But now, it was at peace.
Goten was at peace.
For so long he had been the . . . sidekick. He was nobody without the other Saiyans. But now he was finding out who he was without anyone else. He trained. He thought. He figured things out, about himself and the world around him.
And he was getting stronger.
He no longer had the creature comforts that tended to soften people, make them less aware. Out here, alone, all his senses had reached their peak, including his ki-sense.
And he'd reached Super Saiyan level two a few days before. The only time he'd been able to break past level one was when he was fused to Trunks. But now his lonely training was truly paying off.
"Goten!"
Goten smiled easily, breaking out of his meditation. Two months before Tien and Chaotzu had sought him out, telling him that it wasn't healthy to be so long alone. Even Piccolo had visited. And unlike when his dad sought him out, he hadn't avoided them. But this wasn't Tien and Chaotzu.
This was Trunks.
"Hi, Trunks!"
The two greeted each other by throwing a few good-natured punches at each other. Trunks was surprised to see that Goten's speed and strength had increased dramatically. Full of curiosity and with a mischievous glint in his eye, he turned the punches more serous. Goten laughed, and the two started an all-out spar.
When the fight was over, Trunks was lying on the ground, with Goten staring down at him. Trunks narrowed his eyes slightly. "Looks like the wilderness has done you some good."
Goten smiled, delighted for proof of his well-earned new power. "Looks like you've been spending too much time on homework."
Trunks bristled slightly at this comment, but let it pass. "So, is this where you've been staying?"
"Yeah. I've tried other places, but none of them suited my purposes. I figured, if this was good for Gohan and Piccolo, it'd be good enough for me."
Trunks looked around, wide-eyed. "This is where . . . and that battle between everyone and my dad . . ."
"Yup. 'Cept I think our dads went somewhere else to fight."
Trunks looked around a bit more, trying to picture the battle so long ago.
Goten, however, was in no mood for reverie. "So, how's everyone?" he asked anxiously.
Trunks chuckled. "Your mom's fine."
'How can Trunks know me that well? Oh, yeah. We've been friends since practically birth.'
"She misses you, though. And your dad - he misses you too."
Goten gave a sharp bark of laughter. "Somehow I doubt that. My dad, I mean."
Trunks shifted uncomfortably. These were things not usually talked about openly, at least not in his house. "Your dad really does love you. He just . . . well . . . didn't know how to act around you."
"Yeah, well," Goten said noncommittally. But that did give him something to think about. "I'll go see Mom. Maybe tomorrow. Dad's usually not around in the late morning."
Trunks nodded, and the two talked on into the afternoon.
*****
Jita walked through the woods situated near Satan City, smiling slightly at the coolness of the day and the overcast sky. She knew it wouldn't last, though. Nothing lasted - life . . . or death.
Goten walked beside her, holding her hand. He didn't say anything. He was just - there. Reassuring. She wouldn't be alone.
Jita sighed. "Isn't it nice out here?"
Goten laughed. "I don't know. I guess I like it better when it's warm and sunny. This weather is just depressing."
"Well, I like it."
Goten's grip tightened painfully. "You would."
Jita paused at that. His tone in those two words was harder, making him seem angry and cold. She grew uncomfortable. "I can't stay here much longer. I have to study. I have a test tomorrow."
"You can't leave."
Jita paused, and turned to Goten. His glare seemed to pierce right through her. She suddenly felt so cold. But then he smiled brightly. "Because it's so beautiful out here."
Jita was seriously getting freaked out, and she wasn't sure why. She just felt the unbearable urge to run - get away from Goten. "No really. I have to go." She started to walk away, but Goten grabbed her wrist.
"I guess it wouldn't be beautiful for a soulless witch like you."
Jita's wrist started to burn in Goten's grip. She looked down, and her arm was slowly being eaten away by his energy, already showing the slowly blackening which bone.
"For someone who has murdered millions."
The burning was moving past her shoulder.
"For someone in hell. Isn't that right, Sarah?"
Jita twisted in Goten's grip as his voice became mingled with another, so familiar, voice - her master - from hell . . .
"NO!"
Jita twisted, suffocating in darkness. She couldn't even feel her arm. The cruel words of Goten echoed in her skull as she fell -
And hit the floor in a pile of bedclothes.
She looked around wildly, eyes twitching in paranoid panic as she tore the sheets off of her. Her pale skin glistened in a cold sweat. The words still echoed in her head.
"It was a dream. Just a dream. A dream. Calm down. Control. It was just a dream."
But the cruel face in Goten, looking so much like HIM, was burned on her eyes. She pulled herself onto her bed, truly grateful she was living alone. Despite all attempts she was still trembling, eyes refusing to close. All she could see was him. It was so extremely real. So real.
"But it was just a dream."
Jita finally stopped shaking, but there was no way she'd be able to sleep. She hauled herself onto her bed and grabbed her blanket around her to ward off the cold that had crept into her bones and refused to leave. Flicking on the lamp, she picked up her copy of Catch-22, preparing to fill another sleepless night.
"It was just a dream."
The burns on her arm could be explained.
Jita dropped the book with a gasp. The trembling came back in full force as she stared at the blistered skin between her wrist and elbow. The laughter, the taunting, the voice - of HIM - came back in full force. Urging her to kill. Taunting her for her weakness and fear. So much that Jita'd had enough.
"Leave me alone!"
It may not have been the most eloquent thing to say, but it got the job done. And after a good, strong cup of tea and a ki-healing of her arm, she was almost back to normal. No more pain, fear, panic, rage, torture . . .
Or, at least, she could pretend it wasn't there.
Just pretend it wasn't there.
And maybe she wouldn't lose her mind.
Maybe she could find peace.
