Revised 01-03-12

From the start

Goten's POV

I walk down the hallway to flat I share Trunks. We've been here for about a year now and things were still going pretty good. I had to clean up after him on the usual but other than being the in-house freelance maid I'm pretty happy with our situation. Trunks, at one point in time, had suggested getting a maid but I refused. He told me he could afford it no problem but I didn't like the idea of some stranger coming into our home and touching all of our things. Plus I wasn't as… lazy as he is. I liked doing things for myself.

I arrive at our door and sift through the many keys on my ring. I don't even know what half of these are for, they just seem to keep accumulating on this little silver ring of mine but I eventually find the right one and unlock the front door. I knew he was home but we made it a habit to always keep the door locked in case we decided to leave from off the balcony.

I open the black door and step inside. I toss my bookbag on the floor and take off my hoodie to hang it in the closet. I'm honestly exhausted and just want to climb into bed but I figured I would say hello to my roommate first. Walking through the foyer I see trunks reclined in a laz-y-boy watching TV. He senses my presence looking at me, "Dinner is on the table if you're hungry."

I just worked a twelve hour shift in a hospital full of complaining patients, of course I'm hungry.

"I think I'll shower first," I tell him being reminded of the tiny speckles of blood on my scrubs. Sleeping can wait til later.

He looks me up and down, "Another stabbing?"

"Yup. It's the third one this week."

I head to my bedroom and close the door. I walk into my personal bathroom and strip throwing the soiled scrubs into a plastic bag to be thrown away. I turn the water as hot as it will go and jump in.

I just stand under the rain of hot water for now. Its moments like these I cherish. A few minutes alone to just be with myself is a little piece of heaven. No one is crying out 'Dr. Son! Dr. Son!', there's no crying families, and no annoying repeat patients. Those were the worse.

There were the patients who frequently came in claiming to be sick but really only wanted pills to feed their addiction. We usually catch the drug addicts and send them to the nearby clinic without them even realizing they are willingly walking into a rehab. Then we had the patients who just couldn't take care of themselves. They would disregard our instruction to recover and in the end get sick again and return within months, sometimes weeks, and even days. And finally we had the paranoid patients. These people would come in frequently creating mountains out of mole hills. One time I had a patient claiming they had a tumor in their stomach… they were constipated.

I step from the shower and dry myself off. I throw the towel over my head to dry out my cropped black hair. Rummaging through my drawers and throw on a pair of beat up sweatpants and tell myself I'm too tired to find a clean shirt. Guess who has to do laundry again…

My stomach growls frustrated with me making wait so long. So I comply and walk out to the kitchen. I notice Trunks opening up the oven and pulling out a fully prepared plate. I ask, "For me?"

"Yea, it got cold so I heated it up."

I sit down at the table, "Thanks dude. What did you make?"

He placed it in front of me and I eyed it up. 21 ounce steak and other vegetables I don't really care about because I'm busy visually molesting the steak and all thought of grogginess vanished. Without warning I begin my attack on the perfectly marinated hunk of meat.

Amazingly enough, through my 'steak goggles', I notice Trunks staring at me. Mouth full of food I ask, "What?"

He glanced down at the chair sitting in it, "You busy tonight? I thought maybe we'd order food later and get some beer. Maybe some Saints Row?"

I nod my head yes. Once I swallowed the wad of meat I confess, "I tried calling Paris to see if she wanted to go out to dinner and a movie but she said she was busy… again."

He scoffs at her name being mentioned, "I told you from the beginning she's no good. She barely makes time for you anymore."

"Yea, but I'm picky, I guess you can say, when it comes to women. Paris is the best out of all the past girlfriends I've had."

His laughing is somewhat of a mock, "You could do better dude." I know he wants to say so much more but agrees with his better judgment to not upset me. She's still my girlfriend after all. But Trunks has always been like that whenever I acquire a new girlfriend. He meets them once and instantly doesn't like them. He picks them apart piece by flawed piece and presents them to me on a silver platter. I never understood this and honestly still don't. I never say anything mean or nasty about his girlfriends but he always makes a mockery out of mine. It's he trying to tell me he can get better women than me.

He gets up and pulls out a beer and stuffs it in his pocket then grabs the last can and opens it. "I'm gunna' go down to Spirits and grab more."

"Urban walking?" I ask referring to alcoholic beverage concealed in his pocket.

"Sure; drinking and walking isn't illegal."

"Yes it is…"

He paused then proceeded to laugh. He joked, "I'm Trunks Briefs, whose gunna' tell me no?" He shoves his feet into sneakers and walks out the front door beer in hand.

"I don't know, the law?" I mutter finishing off my plate and then putting it in the dishwasher. Of course it's full of dirty dishes and I'm only assuming I'll be adding this to my list of 'unappreciated manual labor'.

I walk out to the living room and throw myself on the couch. I don't bother to change the channel on the television for my eyes are now heavily lidded. I drift into another world where no one but my conscious can reach for me.

I walk through the open door to our flat to see the place is completely empty. Even the walls once covered in extravagant décor were stark naked. I suddenly feel a sense of fear and panic frantically wondering what in the world happened here. But I recollect my sense and decide I need to continue my investigation. I ran to my bedroom and saw that it too was completely bare. Now I can feel my hands shaking.

I move back into the main room slowly peering around to the bare walls and feel terror-stricken. But I take a deep breath to calm my raging nerves and force myself into reasonability. Maybe it isn't what I think it is. Maybe someone stole our things and did a pretty damn good job at it. But I have a very ominous feeling that isn't the case. I have to check one more room before I officially lose my shit.

I rush to Trunks' room telling myself that it'll be different; that his things were there. I open the door and see it replicated the condition of the rest of the apartment. "What the hell is going on?"

I make my way to the balcony determined to find the cause of the disappearance of everything that was in our home. I slid the glass door open and vault the railing to the street below. Our place overlooked the main strip of Satan City so we usually take to the air so no one will spot us. I can't say why I jumped downward; I just did so like I was in autopilot.

But as I landed I quickly regretted it. Seeing what I saw made me miss my security box of an apartment. I tried sensing out any person within a mile radius of me and became panicked once more as I felt the city… no the world was empty. "What-" I begin to ask to no one but can only cut myself off. I stand alone in the middle of the street turning in circles. None of the neon lights glared, no horns of cars honked at each other, and no people yelling and shouting in the nighttime.

I stop my circling parade and shove my face in my hands trying to make sense of everything. As I try to bury my face further into my palms I begin to feel the fear that I am ultimately alone. One thing I hate most in the whole universe is that overwhelming feeling of loneliness. Knowing that there's not another soul around most certainly scared me most. During my childhood and young adult life I was independent, something my mother quickly noticed, and something that separated me from my perfect brother who to this still depends on her. But ever since my father left with Shenron and never came back I had changed for the worst. I never openly admitted this but it affected me greatly. I felt as though my father had abandoned me for the third time in my life. If I knew what I knew now I would have never let myself become too close to him.

I finally find some ounce of bravery and look up and into the shops and restaurants. It shouldn't be a surprise that their all empty; not even a spec of dirt on the floors. Not even lite inanimate objects kept any company.

"Hey Goten!"

I freeze at the sound of my name being called from afar; I wasn't alone? I turn around and see Trunks on the corner down the block. He keeps calling my name waving at me, "Goten!"

In a single moment, all of that panic and fear disappear seeing him. All of the pain and torture I had endured mere seconds ago vanish on the sole sight of him. He had always been there to protect me, ever since we were children. I felt stupid thinking he wouldn't be here by my lonesome side, he would never do that to me. Excitement washes me clean of any lingering thoughts of abandonment.

I'm within feet of him as he shouts even louder, "HEY! GOTEN!"

"Ahhh!" I sit up on the couch clutching my chest in attempt to calm my racing heart. I take deep breaths to try and recollect my composure.

Trunks continues to laugh at me, "Damn, how is that, that puny alarm clock can wake you but me screaming in your face doesn't?"

I groan trying my best to rub the sleep from my eyes. "I guess I was more tired than I thought."

"You wanna just go to bed?"

"Nah. I work night shift tomorrow so I got all day to sleep."

He gets excited and opens up one of the thirty packs of beer. He plucks a bottle from its storage and tosses it to me. "Here, drink up!"

I manage to catch the beer, turn on the game system and set the right input on the television. I'm such a good multitasker. We set down as I hand him a controller. Trunks scans through the menus and starts selecting what exactly we'll be playing. He one of those people that's always 'player 1'. I don't mind though.

I can't help but think of what an odd dream that was. I had never had a nightmare to that extent before, not even after I fought Majin Buu at just seven years old. That dream had felt so real. Usually I fall into lucid dreams, ones that I can manipulate and control to a certain point but I'm never one hundred percent sure it's a dream even though what I want to happen within them does. But this one… was like none other. I hadn't a clue of what was going on, I would have never guessed I was dreaming even considering the ridiculousness of it. and now I wonder what was the message? Why was Trunks there and not someone else like Gohan or my mother… or even Paris?

He elbows me lightly in the ribs bringing my thoughts back to reality as he selects the co-op campaign mode. As we wait for the level to load he asks, "So what did you have a nightmare or something?"

I look at him weird, "No that's how I always wake up."

He laughs taking another heavy swig of the beer, "Seriously what was your dream about that had you almost pissing yourself?"

I really did not want to tell him about my dream. It was kind of a wussy dream now that I think about it. He nudges me with his elbow again beckoning me to confess. I notice the screen has loaded but our characters are standing still in the middle of a fictional city street.

"Well?"

I responded by forcing my character to shoot his. "Headshot."

He's back in the game, "Oh come on man!"

I keep shooting his character even though he's long dead and even go the extra mile to throw a grenade at him.

His little digital gangster respawns and we begin our usual wreaking havoc upon the fictional city Steelport. We begin our rampage by purging civilians and pedestrians and then of course the cops and police helicopters. I always think this is such an ironic game for the likes of us. We will drop everything in a heartbeat to save the real world but will drop everything in a heartbeat to also destroy the game world of Steelport. Even heroes have a different, ironic kind of fun sometimes.

Trunks character pulls out a melee weapon; a giant purple dildo bat(A/N: a real weapon in the game) and smacks my person in the back of head sending my off the side of the roof we were on. "Damn it! They're surrounding me!" I yell. I try and shoot them off but end up running out of ammo and ultimately dying.

"Damn you…"

"Wouldn't it he sweet if we could ki blast all of those cops?"

I lower my controller to the ground grabbing my beer, "You know you can do that in real life right?"

He smirks at me with a little of evil in his eye, "That's a good idea."

I push his shoulder laughing at him, "Shut up. Besides, you're too lazy to destroy Satan City. You can't even pick your boxers up off the floor."

He opens another beer ignoring my subliminal complaint, "So tell me about this dream that had you shaking in your boots."

I lean back against the couch, "I'm not wearing shoes."

"Very funny, seriously what happened?"

I sigh, admitting defeat because I know once he starts drinking and sets his mind to one particular thing he will do anything in his inhuman power to complete his mission… like a rogue, super Terminator. "I had a dream that everything and everyone in the world was gone and I was the last person left. Happy?"

He stifles a laugh. He tries hard not to open his mouth but fails anyway. "Hahaha, weird, I didn't know you had a vagina!"

I punch him in arm, "Shut up before I kick you in the vagina! I hate being alone!"

I can see he's starting to feel the effects of alcohol as he returns to his sitting position completely ignoring my previous hit. "Dude, it's ok. I'm just kidding, you know that."

"Yea…" I wonder how much he plans on drinking. Usually he ends up getting very touchy feely when under the influence. Nothing weird but when we're alone he ends up bumping into me more than once. Odd occurences like this never happened when we partied in highschool and college but once we moved in together that all changed. It was little things like sitting closer to me, pushing me around jokingly more often, and this creepy blank stare he gives me sometimes. But on the other hand, I didn't mind. Trunks was different than any other friendship I've ever had with anybody else. We were close and I knew we had forged an unbreakable bond long ago.

I realize my characters has respawned but both of our guys have been repeatedly shot and respawned during our conversation. Even considering how close we are I find it odd he's taken such a great interest in such a petty matter. "Why are you so concerned about it anyway?"

He shrugs, "I don't know. Let's do some real missions."

Well that was quick, lucky for him I'm not as demanding so I just let it go and comply. "Sure."

About three hours and twenty five beers each later, I find us both heavily intoxicated. I drop my controller have lost complete interest in the game. I blink trying to steady the blurring room and all of the dancing colors of what I was assuming to be our apartment. Trunks must have had the same idea as he slumps against me, head on my shoulder almost causing me to fall sideways as well but I somehow manage to catch and steady myself.

"Dude… stop moving," he tells me.

So I sit forward and let him crash to the floor behind me. My hands hold my firm in place with my legs stretched out but I feel the uneasiness in my stomach. Then I feel a hand on my back almost clawing at my bare skin. I pull my heavy feet in and lean on my knees to spin around and face him. I spin just a tad too fast and land on my face. We both laugh hysterically at my drunken clumsiness as we try our best to sit up and face one another. I can't help but laugh at Trunks laughing at me; of all things to find hysterical. He's sporting a deep blush across his cheeks but I know I am too; if antics didn't give us away it was our flushed appearances.

Our laughter dies somewhat as I regain composure sitting on my feet, one hand on the floor for support. Trunks tries to sit up the best he can but ends up awkwardly close to my face.

So I decide to bluntly tell him what he probably already knows, "You are… so close to my face…"

We both laugh at how struggled the words sounded. But I'm suddenly silenced as Trunks leans forward and plants a kiss on me. My eyes open in shock and my brain sends panicked messages to the rest of my body instructing to go into possum mode. My drunken fever mysteriously healed for only seconds.

He pulls back looking stunned as well but then laughs once again. Only he laughs; I don't find this very funny. I'm not angry, just… not quite understanding what just happened.

My buzz slowly returns as I ask stumbling over my words, "What- what just happened?"

His laughter comes to an abrupt halt and he looks at me in the eyes in absolute seriousness, "… I don't know. That was weird."

"…Yea…"

"I think I'm gunna go to bed." He goes to stand up but ends up just falling on his face; out cold. We had been sitting down this whole time so standing wasn't exactly ideal right now. I slowly make my way so I don't collapse as well and make my way over to him. Through my drunken haze I grab his ankles and begin pulling him along to his bed. This usually wouldn't be a problem but considering I'm not in a sober state of mind and how much more leaner I am than him this has become the challenge of the night.

I pull him across the vast sea of cream carpet and bump his door open with my rear end so I can drag him further into the room. I stop next to his bed and pull him into a sitting position. I take a deep breath stretching his arm over my shoulders to lift him up. The sudden extra weight throws me way off balance and I'm hurled into a dizzy cyclone of my own vision. Lucky me, we land on his bed with my head on his shoulder. After pushing my very trying vision to comply once more I pull myself up.

I fix him into the right position with his head on the pillow. I grab his alarm clock and hold it close to my eyes as if it will steady the glowing red numbers. I hold the alarm out with one hand and cover one eye with the other. I see the alarm light is glowing representing the set alarm time. I place it back on what I thought was the night stand as it dropped on my foot. Apparently I'm not longer Saiyjin when I'm drunk as I grab my throbbing pinky toe wincing in pain. I hop around on one foot and gravity suddenly became very heavy as I fell to the floor.

I convince myself I'm being way too dramatic and sit up. I successfully place the alarm clock back in its rightful place and head to my own bed. My little toe still hurts but not enough to limp or stumble.

I make my way under the covers of my own bed resting my head on the pillow. I sigh deeply thinking back to what just happened only minutes ago.

Was Trunks really that drunk? To mistaken me for a date of some sort? I keep telling myself it was just some weird mistake and it'll be a thing of the past once the fog of alcohol clears from our vision. Hell, he may not even remember it; I, myself may not even remember.

"It was nothing," I tell myself.

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