A/N: Ok, so for some reason this idea doesn't wanna leave me alone. I've noticed that a few of the drabbles I've written already have revolved around this idea; the death of Dillon. I think the reason may be because I think that is probably one of Goten's biggest fears.

Prompt: Fears Realized

Disclaimer: All original Dragonball Z characters are the property of Akira Toriyama. Dillon Santinni is the property of Android-2217. Do not take him without permission, and do not ask me for permission, as he is not mine to give.

Warnings: Excessive violence.

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Nothing was what I knew it to be. My world could no longer exist. It must have turned upside down, or Hell have frozen over. Because this was just not possible. It hadn't happened. Dillon wasn't slouching before me, unseeing eyes staring at his lap, blood pouring down his chest. And that was not my scream permeating through the air. I was not sitting in front of him, grabbing his hair, forcing his head up, with pathetic attempts to revive him as my world fell apart.

It couldn't be....

2 Hours Earlier

When I awoke from my stupor, the only thing I could remember was a sharp pain to the back of my head. I looked around, finding myself in a dark, dank, brick room. A basement, I would guess. Handcuffs are tight to my wrist, and I giggle. Who thinks these pathetic things would stop me? But when I pull to break them, I realize that I am the fool. They aren't regular handcuffs, but ki restraints. Made specifically from Capsule Corp. Surprise surprise.

Dillon is leaning against the wall across from me. I call to him, and he looks up, but before he has time to respond, the door slams open, and in walks Trunks with some other preppy kids from school.

One of them has a knife.

Trunks walks over and delivers a kick to my chest, but I don't feel it. That pain is nothing in comparison to the pain I feel when one of the kids walks over to Dillon. The one with the knife.

"What's going on? Why are you doing this?" Questions pouring from my mouth, all unanswered.

Dillon and I both suffer a beating, but nothing we can't handle. I was thinking maybe nothing serious was going to happen, but, my God, was I wrong. The one with the knife walks over to Dillon, kicks him in the chest, and presses the knife to his throat.

"Tell him that you don't love him." is what's growled in his ear. "Tell him you don't love him, or I'll cut your fucking throat." Where's Dillon's dad with a gun when you need him?

I can't believe what I'm hearing, but Dillon refuses. "I love him."

And in a flash, the blade slides against his throat, and crimson sprays everywhere.

Even Trunks is shocked. "Wait, what the fuck are you doing!? We were only supposed to scare them! Stop, stop, stop!!" He runs over and beats the shit out of the one with the knife. It's too late.

He walks over to me and undoes the ki restraints. As if that meant something. As if it changed the fact that my whole world had just collapsed in on itself. As if that meant that Dillon wasn't dead, unseeing eyes staring at his lap, as if it meant he was coming back. He would suddenly snap his head up, give me a kiss, that beautiful "bella" rolling off his lips, his eyes all alight.

"No..."

"Goten, I swear, this wasn't meant to happen! I fully admit planning this! But, oh God, it was never meant to go this far! We only planned to scare you, beat you...oh God, what've I done?!?" but his apologies meant nothing...

I ignored his pulling at my shoulders. As if suddenly now everything was ok again. Time had been reversed and we were 11 and 12. Before everything happened, and Dillon had never existed in my life.

And now, in a way, he may as well not have. Because here he was, sitting in his own blood, gone from the world. And here I was, my heart still beating, oxygen still coursing through my veins. But my heart couldn't still be beating, and the oxygen must have stopped, because my life had just ended.

Ignoring everything else around me, I sit on the floor, pull his head into my lap, kiss his lips, stare up at the ceiling, tears coursing down my cheeks, and wait.

Wait for my heart to stop beating and the oxygen to stop coursing through my veins.