Chapter 26... First time I've taken a crack at this in 5 whole years, so bear with me. Also, I haven't written in first person just as long. Pray for me.
New AN (8/9/23): Finally finished it. Sorry about the wait.
Pan's POV
Today's Grandma's funeral...
That was the first conscious thought that trickled through my mind when I woke up that morning, curled into Trunks's side. I groaned into my pillow and threw my husband's arm off of my waist, squirming to get out of the divot he put in the mattress. While I was struggling, Trunks finally cracked a single blue eye open to watch me crawl towards my edge of the bed.
"Hey, gorgeous," he murmured, and I gasped as he gently cupped my butt in one hand and pushed me the rest of the way out of the bed, "need some help?"
Ignoring the warmth in my cheeks, I padded across the room to get my robe from where it hung on the back of the bathroom door, "get up, hon. I'm going to clean myself up, get the kids out of bed, and start on breakfast. Could you get their funeral clothes laid out while I'm cooking, please?"
"Of course," Trunks rolled out of bed and shook out his bedhead, "no prob, Panny. Hey," he walked over to me and took both of my hands in his, "sweetheart, are you doing okay with all of this?" I sighed as he cupped my face and brushed his thumb over my cheek, leaning into his touch and letting my eyes slide closed.
"I... I'm trying to make myself believe that this is really happening, but I still don't feel like we're burying my grandmother today," I mumbled, "I feel like she's going to call me while I'm making breakfast to see how I'm doing, not that she's... that she's... she's dead." I had to practically force the word out of my throat. The sensation of it sliding over my tongue and past my lips made me feel nauseous.
"I wish I could help you with this, Pan-chan," my husband drew me into his hold and kissed my forehead sweetly, "but I think you're gonna have to find that closure on your own. I'll be right here when you do." I closed my eyes against the tears that yearned to escape and let his wonderful aura soothe my nerves and worries for the moment. After a few seconds of basking, I leaned up on my tiptoes and kissed the underside of his jaw.
"I know you will. I love you," I murmured, "let's go brush our teeth and get the kids up."
"Alright," Trunks pressed his nose against my hair and took a deep inhale, "I love you, too."
*~*s*~*S*~*s*~*
"Nora," I whispered, edging into my eldest daughter's bedroom, "Aniol, it's time to get up. Come on, love." I walked over to her bed and took a seat on the edge to peer down into Hanora's sweet face. Her round cheeks were sticky with dried tears and her delicate eyelids were reddened, puffy and swollen from tears.
"Baby girl," I leaned down and kissed her soft cheek, "come on, dove, wake up for Mama." Her eyelids fluttered, and she groaned softly before peering up at me with her periwinkle eyes. I sighed sadly at how red the whites of her eyes were and dropped another kiss on her forehead, "hey, sweet pea, it's time to get up and get those teeth brushed."
Hanora didn't respond, she simply sat up and burrowed herself into my arms. I wrapped my arms tightly around her small, soft body and inhaled her sweet, unique scent. After a while, I felt warm dampness soaking through the breast of my robe and my t-shirt, and gently pulled Nora's face away from my chest. She stared up at me with tear-filled eyes, and I felt my heart give a painful spasm at the sight of her pain.
"I know you're upset, love, but we need to get ready to say goodbye to Grandma Chichi," I whispered, wiping her tears with my thumbs, "I know it hurts, but once it's over, it'll get better. I promise."
"You promise?" My daughter inquired brokenly, and I hugged her tightly, "I promise. You think you can brush your teeth for me and make sure you brother and sister brush theirs?"
"Mmhm," she nodded once, and I kissed her cheeks, "I love you, Aniol."
"Love you, Mama." A piece of my heart crumbled away as I watched my eldest leave for the kids' bathroom, still weeping. Never before had I wished that someone could've told me how hard it would be to see them like this, missing their grandma and in pain over her loss. Nothing could truly placate them, we were going to have to wait for the children to get over this on their own terms.
I left Nora's room and headed down the hall to the nursery to check and see if my youngest was awake.
Happy babbles and croons met my ears as I pushed Honey Bun's door open and entered the room, and I couldn't help but smile at the adorable little boy in the crib. At the sight of me, Boxer kicked his little legs and smiled brightly, "Mama," reaching out to me with chubby pink palms.
"Hi, honey bun," I cooed, leaning over the crib to scoop him up, "how's my little man?" Boxer giggled and clapped his hands as I perched him in my arms and kissed the side of his face, "I'm so glad you have no idea what's going on," I whispered, "I don't think I could handle all four of my babies being a mess right now."
He gazed at me with confused dark blue eyes and I kissed the top of his head before toting him out of the room and down the stairs to the kitchen. I placed him on the baby counter and went to the pantry to get some pancake mix to start on breakfast. His soft gurgles were a soothing background track as she moved around, gathering ingredients and utensils.
I don't know how we're gonna get through this…
Trunks' POV
I poked my head into the kids' bathroom to make sure they were brushing their teeth and washing their faces. Nora was standing back, making sure her siblings got themselves squared away. I smiled softly and headed down the hall to their rooms to get their funeral outfits laid out and ready to go.
As I thumbed through Nora's closet in search of the black dress Pan had bought for her, my mind wandered back to that fateful day when I'd found Chichi…
I crossed the yard and opened the door, letting myself into the house. As the door swung shut behind me, I faintly heard my nephew say something about Granny Chichi smelling funny, and cursed colorfully under my breath as I headed up the stairs to Chichi and Goku's bedroom. The moment I entered the room, I could smell the scent that my nephew had been talking about. It was faint, but it was there... and Chichi's bright, cheery ki was gone.
She was resting on her side as if she were still taking a nap, like she'd mentioned to the children, but pallor mortis had already set in, and she was nearly as pale as the white blanket Amara had covered her with. One touch of her hand told me that algor mortis had already begun, but she wasn't near room temperature yet. Judging by all of this, she couldn't have been dead for long, maybe an hour or less.
"… Papa?"
I jerked at the sound of my eldest daughter's voice, spinning around to face her with her dress in my hand. The 7 year-old looked up at me with wide, slightly reddened eyes. Self-consciously, I sniffed and scrunched up my nose a little, ignoring the slight burn in my own eyes.
"Hey, sweetheart," I trudged over to her bed to lay her dress down, "your mom asked me to get you guys' clothes out for you. Guess I got a little distracted."
"Oh," Nora breathed, "okay. Thank you, Papa." She stooped down to scoop Asher up and buried her face in her fur. The cat fussed a little, but ultimately allowed the snuggling to happen.
"Are you doing alright this morning, sweetie?"
"I'll be okay, Papa," Nora lifted her little face away from Ash's fur to smile weakly at me. I dropped down to kneel at her height and opened my arms, "you know it's okay if you're not okay, right baby girl? It's okay if you're hurting."
Nora shuffled up to me, pausing to let Asher leap out of her arms and escape the room, and twined her skinny little arms around my neck. I wrapped my arms around her and pressed a kiss to the side of her head lovingly, "Papa's hurting too. Your Grandma Chichi was like a second mom to me."
"Why does it hurt so bad if we know she's in Otherworld and we'll see her again?" Nora asked softly, her mournful voice muffled by my sleep shirt. I sighed softly and pressed my nose against her violet locks, "because we don't know how long it'll be until we do, dove."
Warm wetness began to soak into my shirt, and Nora's little shoulders shook with each quiet sob. My own eyes burned and spilled over as I rocked from side to side, gently shushing her. My heart ached in my chest, throbbing in time with her pained weeping.
After a little while, Nora's sobs tapered off and her tears stopped falling. I gently nudged her face away from my chest and smiled softly at her, using my thumb to gently wipe the stray tears from her cheek. She reached up and did the same, furrowing her brow up in a concerned manner that made her look exactly like her mother.
"Go ahead and get dressed, I'm gonna check on your brother and sister."
"Okay, Papa." Nora popped up on her tip toes and peck my cheek. I kissed her forehead and left her to her devices, heading a bit further down the hall to Panda's room.
The little lavender haired chibi was sitting on the edge of her bed, already in her black dress, struggling to get the pantyhose up her legs. After several fruitless attempts to get them up her legs, she kicked them off and crossed her arms over her chest.
"Panda-chan," I ventured into the room, "d'you need some help with those?"
"I don't wanna wear those, Papa," she huffed, sliding off the bed, "they're stupid." She marched up to me, a little scowl on her round face. She looked up at me for a moment, the scowl shifting to a frown, "Papa, were you crying?"
"Yeah, just a little bit," I murmured, stooping down to her height, "Papa just misses Grandma." She nodded in understanding and curled against my chest, "I miss her too."
"I know, sweetheart," I breathed, "I know."
Pan's POV
I finished my last stack of pancakes, bringing the total up to a dozen stacks, and turned the stove off with an errant flick. Boxer looked up from where he'd been preoccupied with his fingers and held his hands out for me. I smiled wanly and scooped him up, burying my nose in his downy black locks.
The thought of going to Grandma's funeral in a few hours still made my stomach curl with nausea. It felt so wrong.
Over the past few days, no one had been able to locate Grampa Goku. His ki signature had all but vanished, and I couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, we wouldn't be seeing him again any time soon. Papa and Uncle Goten were beside themselves with worry.
I nuzzled the top of my baby's head, breathing in his comforting scent. So much had gone wrong so fast in the past week; it felt like just yesterday our family was happy and whole.
The sound of multiple pairs of feet pattering down the wooden staircase brought me back to the present, and I turned to watch as Trunks herded our other three babies into the kitchen. Everyone was dressed and, save for Nora and Panda's hair, ready to go.
Trunks ducked out of the room to hang his and Toran's suit jackets in the hall by the door, and slipped back in just as quickly. He padded over to me and leaned down to kiss my forehead, "go ahead and get dressed, I'll dish out breakfast."
"Okay," I whispered, leaning up to kiss his cheek, "thank you. Give me half an hour, then send the girls up so I can tackle their hair." I hitched Boxers higher up on my hip and left the room, taking the stairs two at a time.
"Alright, my love," I murmured to my mini-me, sweeping into the nursery, "let's get you dressed up first, and then Mama's gonna put her clothes on."
*P*P*P*P*
"Mama," Panda chirped, "what's a funeral?"
I froze in the middle of parting Nora's soft purple locks, caught entirely off guard, "w-well, it's a kind of celebration," I began shakily, "of the life of the person the funeral is for. It gives everyone a chance to tell stories about the fond memories they shared with the person." Stupid, stupid, stupid. I should've seen that question coming, considering…
"Oh," she hummed thoughtfully, "so it's like story time, but all the stories are about Grandma?" she gazed up at me imploringly, crystalline eyes wide and beseeching.
"Y-yeah, sweetie," I nodded jerkily, smiling weakly, "exactly like story time." I carried on making small braids at the front of Nora's head, inwardly praying that Panda would drop this subject.
"Are you gonna tell a story, Mama?"
God. "I don't think so, sweetie," I could feel my smile wobbling, threatening to crumble. I didn't want to snap at my baby, but I wasn't sure how much longer I could stand her line of questioning. Despite my best efforts to keep calm, I could feel the hot sting of irrational irritation constricting around my heart.
"But why not—"
"Panda," Nora interjected softly yet firmly, "stop bothering Mama." I breathed a quiet sigh of relief, inwardly kicking myself for not being able to deter my own child, and let the irritation go in that same breath.
"But I wanna—"
"Baby, we're gonna be running late in a bit, I need to finish Nora-chan's hair and your hair so we can get to the funeral on time." There. A reasonable excuse. I swallowed thickly and returned to my braiding.
Pandora pouted for all of five seconds before she was sufficiently distracted by the barrettes laid out on the counter to go in her and her older sister's hair. My shoulders, raised unconsciously, lowered as the tension left my body. Crisis averted.
For now, anyway.
Trunks' POV
I could feel the tension radiating off of Pan, growing more and more palpable the closer we got to Mount Paozu. Her body was rigid; I didn't even have to touch her to feel it, it was clear by the set of her shoulders and the tightness in her jaw. She was taut, like a plucked bow string.
"Hey," I reached over to grasp her hand, "everything alright over there?" her eyes were clouded and dim, it was hard to discern her mood.
"I don't want to talk about it, Trunks," Pan whispered back, tangling her fingers with mine, "I just want this all to be over."
"I know you do." I raised her hand to my lips and kissed it gently. Pan smiled warmly at me in response, a soft pink flush overtaking her cheeks. The flush of color left me breathless, she was so stunning.
The kids were in their own little world in the backseat. Nora and Toran had their noses buried in books, Panda was playing a game on her touchpad with her earphones plugged in, and Boxer was sleeping peacefully in his car seat. Despite Pan's obvious tension, the mood in the car was calm.
There was a break in the cloudbanks, revealing Mount Paozu and the Son residence. Pan's grip on my hand tightened, and I heard her breathing hitch. Her ki sparked and rippled, betraying her tumultuous emotions, and I smoothed my thumb over the back of her hand repeatedly.
We're gonna make it through this, Pan-chan. Everything's gonna be fine.
*P*P*P*P*
Videl and Gohan met us outside when I landed the aircar out front, and were immediately set upon by the kids as they emerged from the back seat. My mother in-law extricated herself from the maelstrom and leaned into the backseat to free Boxer from his car seat and perched him on her hip. The cloudy skies overhead accented the somberness of the occasion.
Pan was slow to exit the car but when she did, I could see her pulling her walls up and forming a façade before my very eyes. My mother in-law gave her a discerning look in my peripheral vision as she came around on my side of the car with the baby.
"How is she?" Videl asked softly, nuzzling the top of Boxer's head lovingly. Her periwinkle eyes were focused on Pan as she greeted Gohan with a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"She's… it feels like she's just going through the motions," I responded, "I can count on one hand the amount of times I've seen her really react since… y'know. I think she's fighting it."
"I figured she was having some trouble," Videl said quietly, "she was off when she left the house yesterday. C'mon," she gestured towards the house, "we've got a few stragglers, but most of the family's already here."
Pan's POV
The funeral was a simple but elegant affair.
Mama and I chose to have the ceremony behind the small hut where Grampa Gohan once lived, and had a plot dug out in a nearby meadow that was filled with wildflowers, shaded by an old Sakura tree. We'd had many a picnic there as a family when I was younger.
Sun soaked memories of laughter, joy, and love flooded my subconscious as I stepped through my parents' back screen door and onto the deck. I could almost smell the floral essence – or maybe that was the flower arrangements we'd ordered – on the breeze, mixed with the scent of incoming rain.
Grampa still wasn't here.
Since Dende would be overseeing the ceremony – because how else would we explain the body vanishing in the middle of this whole thing – Papa planned to ask him if he could get into contact with King Kai to broaden the search. Trunks had gone to Vegeta to see if it was some sort of saiyan instinct to disappear after the death of a mate, but my father in-law had been rather tight lipped.
I was starting to think that our chances of ever seeing Grampa again were growing slimmer and slimmer by the day.
"Here, Pan-chan," Mama grabbed my elbow, "somebody's getting a little fussy." Perched in her arms, my 4 month-old son whined plaintively, little chubby arms outstretched in a definite plea. I smiled and grasped him around his middle, lifting him up and settling him against my chest. He immediately laid his head on my shoulder and tangled his little fist in the chiffon fabric of my blouse, settled for the time being.
"Pan-chan, do you want to see her?" Mama asked hesitantly, gaze flicking from me to the black tent set up behind Great Great Grampa Gohan's old hut. I took a deep breath, hesitant. My body grew so tense it almost hurt.
Could I do this? Was I ready to see my Grandma laid out on those silk cushions as if she were merely sleeping? Would it bring me the closure I needed?
Only one way to find out. I nodded shakily, "y-yeah," and hitched Boxer a little higher on my hip, "I wanna see her." I could see the glossy snowy white casket from here, shrouded in the shade of the tent like a monster lying in wait. The flowers arranged around it somehow made it seem even more sinister.
Mama began making her way down the short flight of steps from the deck to the grass, but my feet were suddenly rooted in place. My throat felt dry and what felt like a steel band began to constrict around my lungs, shortening my breathing. Cold sweat welled up along my brow and at my temples as I struggled to make myself move.
Just one step, I silently urged, one step and then another… c'mon Pan, just start walking!
"Pan?" Mama's voice sounded echoey, as if she were calling me from the bottom of a deep well, "sweetheart, come on."
Just when I thought I was going to be stuck on that deck until the end of time, a warm hand settled against the small of my back, soothing me instantly. I sensed the familiar ki and settled, drawing a deep, cleansing breath and banishing the mental entanglements holding me hostage.
"I've got you," Trunks murmured, "we'll go together." I looked up into his crystal blue eyes and felt my own welling up when I saw the sheer amount of love swirling in their depths.
'Thank you.'
'You don't ever have to thank me, Pan-chan.'
I leaned into my husband's side as he guided me down the porch steps, where we fell into step with Mama, heading across the lawn to the tent. My feet felt as if they weighed several tons each, but not once did I falter.
Boxer started to fuss and whine in my arms the closer we got to the looming presence of the tent, probably due to my turbulent emotions that were being broadcasted through my ki. I knew everyone could sense my anxiety and unease, but it was easier to feign ignorance.
There were simple white chairs set up, 2 groups with 6 chairs per row with 5 rows and an aisle down the middle, decorated with plain black ribbon twined around the backs. Mama led the way up to the casket, skirting along the left side of the seating.
Bra, Goten, Bulma, Vegeta, Marron, and Uub were already there, Bra and Marron with their kids settled down for the most part. My eyes were glued on that shiny ivory wooden monstrosity with the lid propped open like a monster's gaping maw.
Trunks began rubbing slow circles against my mid-back, "breathe, Pan-chan."
I let the air I hadn't realized I'd been holding go in a barely audible gust and my heartbeat picked up speed once we finally arrived at Grandma Chichi's casket. My heart felt like it'd leapt up into my throat, almost choking me.
"They did a good job with her," Mama murmured, voice subdued as she surveyed the casket's contents, "she just looks like she's sleeping."
I reluctantly lowered my gaze from the ornate floral decal on the inside of the lid and took in Grandma's visage. There was no sudden punch of emotion, no tears, no sudden realization, no click… Nothing.
She really did look as if she were taking a nap.
Maybe that was the problem.
Grandma's hair laid, glossy and combed to perfection, framing her lax face beautifully. Other than the pallid look to her skin that the makeup couldn't quite hide, she could've just been asleep. An odd numbness crept up inside of me, tangling up in the anxiety and discomfiture and dragging it down deep.
I could feel Trunks' and Mama's eyes on me as I gazed at my grandmother, sense the anticipation radiating off of them. It was unwarranted. I swallowed and took a small step back, "let's find our seats."
What's wrong with me?
*P*P*P*P*
The ceremony went by in a blur.
Dende spoke, then Papa, Mama, Bulma, and Uncle Goten shared a few stories each, but try as I might, I just felt… distant from it all. Like I was encased in a shell of some sort where the grief and heartache couldn't quite reach me.
The stories wrapped up, the ceremony came to a close, and Papa, Goten, Trunks, and Uub were tasked with carrying the casket through the trees for the short walk to the meadow, while the rest of us followed behind. One of the children was tugging at my hand, trying to get my attention, but they eventually stopped as someone herded them away from me.
Boxer continued to fuss intermittently in my arms but, when someone tried to take him from me, I couldn't bring myself to let him go. My husband kept shooting concerned glances at me over his shoulder, and I tried to smile – or at least I think I did – but he didn't look appeased, if anything he looked even more worried.
We arrived at the burial site, and Dende said a few more things, performed a blessing over the plot, and, once the casket had been lowered, asked each of us to take a handful of dirt from the pile that'd been dug up and throw it in on top.
Everyone formed a line leading up to that dark chasm in the earth, tossing handful after handful… and the shell I'd subconsciously formed cracked with each one. Like water battering away at a weakening dam.
Trunks met me at the side of the grave as Bra and Goten finished tossing their handful and moved aside, holding his own dirt. I could feel the concern and worry radiating off of him as he tossed his own bit of dirt in.
Another fissure spiderwebbed through the shell.
I held my hand out over the grave, and only then did I notice how badly I was shaking. My hand trembled visibly in the open air, clenched so tightly around the dirt that my knuckles were stark white.
"Panny, are you alright—"
"Just… just give me a minute," I responded, absently pushing Boxer into his arms, "I just… I need a minute."
My hand was still hovering over Grandma's grave, full of the dirt that everyone else had so easily tossed into the… her grave. My hand shook harder, causing small streams of brown earth to tumble out, free falling into the dark chasm at my feet. The polished wood of her casket mocked me.
How the hell did everyone else make this look so damn easy?!
A shuddering breath slipped through my clenched jaw as I tried in vain to make my hand go lax, to let the handful of earth fall… but I couldn't. I just couldn't. I knew that, once I let go, once I dropped the dirt and turned my back, everything I'd been subconsciously denying would be undeniable… and I wasn't ready to face that. I couldn't face that. I didn't want to face that.
Facing it would mean accepting that there would be no sweet morning phone calls as I got ready for work and got the kids ready for school. Facing it would mean not being able to see the way her brown eyes lit up every time I came to see her… no more of those whispered conversations at the kitchen table with a plate of snacks and cups of fresh tea. Facing it would mean not being able to lend a hand with the huge family dinners we had every other Sunday…
The turbulent waters behind my emotional dam/shell surged, and I could feel the cracks growing, feel the stone eroding and giving in to the whim of the waves.
"Baby?" A soft arm wrapped around my waist from behind, "sweetheart, you need to let go."
"M-mama," I stuttered helplessly, voice quavering with oncoming tears, "I-I can't…" Mama's other hand ran through my curls and her lips pressed against my cheek, "she wouldn't want you to dwell and hurt like this Panny," she soothed, "you know it's not forever; you'll see her again."
I was helpless against the first violent sob to tear free from my throat, the first chip in my internal dam, emitting from my mouth as a soft keening. It hit me like a punch in the gut, the hardest hit I'd ever taken outside of a spar or battle. There was no better physical agony to describe the pain I felt in that moment.
Grandma really was gone.
The dirt slipped free from my slack fingers, falling… falling… falling… There was a soft sound of impact as it hit the wood of her closed casket… and the dam inside of me burst.
Mama's hands were gentle as she guided me away from the grave before she turned me to face her and pulled me in close, letting me bawl into her shoulder like the child I hadn't felt like in years.
Trunks' POV
Gohan and I stood shoulder-to-shoulder a good distance away from the gravesite, watching silently as Pan finally got to the point where she couldn't do anything else but accept Chichi's passing. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't painful to watch her fall to pieces in her mothers' arms, and a part of me wanted to take over for Videl, but I knew her mom was who she needed right now. There'd be time for me to comfort her later on.
The concerning feeling of utter emptiness that'd swamped her ki was fading now, instead radiating heartache and grief. I wasn't happy that she was hurting so, but it was a much better alternative than the former.
"She's been holding this in all week," my father in-law uttered softly, and I looked down at Boxer, who was busy playing with the end of my tie at the moment.
"I know," I murmured back, "I tried my best not to push her, figured it'd be better if she made it there on her own. Did you talk to Dende about getting in touch with King Kai to look for Goku?" I tacked on absently, still focused on my wife.
"He said he'd try, and that he'd get in touch with me as soon as he's heard something from his end." Gohan murmured, eyes shuttered, "I just… my gut's telling me that we're not gonna see Dad again… not for a long time, probably never again. I don't wanna jinx anything, but I really don't think we'll find him."
"I asked my Dad about it," I offered, not wanting to rub salt in the wound, "I was thinking that maybe it's some kind of saiyan instinct to take off like this when you lose your mate, but he wouldn't say. You know how he is…"
"Yeah," Gohan laughed softly, "here, I'll take him," he gently extricated Boxer from my arms, "I think it'll be fine if you step in now."
"Alright," I paused a few steps away and turned back, smiling reassuringly, "I hope everything turns out alright."
"Me too, Trunks… me too."
*P*P*P*P*
I was sitting on top the toilet in Pan's old ensuite bathroom in Gohan's house later that afternoon while Pan splashed water on her face at the sink. The long crying jag left her face splotchy and swollen, her eyes puffy, and it was clear just meeting her gaze in the mirror that she was drained.
"C'mere, sweetheart."
Pan pushed away from the counter and shuffled over to me, pliant as I settled her on my lap. She tucked her head under my chin with her nose pressed against my collarbone. The soft breath from her lips brushed against my clavicle with each quiet exhale.
"I'm so tired," she murmured, voice so hoarse it was barely audible, "and thirsty." I could hear the confused frown in her voice.
"Crying will do that to you," I joked gently, resting my chin on the top of her head, "do you want me to go down and get you some water?"
"No," she snuggled deeper into my hold, "tap's fine. Where are the kids?"
"Playing with their cousins in the backyard, and I think my mom has Boxer right now."
"Kami," she sat up to meet my eyes and pressed a hand against her face, "I think one of the kids was trying to get my attention while we were walking to the meadow but I just… I was so checked out."
"Yeah, I felt that," I murmured, laying my right hand on her left hip, "it was almost like you weren't there, it was scaring me a little." I recalled feeling the shift in her ki all throughout the initial ceremony, and feeling that emptiness grow more and more intense as time went on… looking back over my shoulder as we carried Chichi's casket through the trees and seeing her blank face and dim eyes staring straight through me.
"I don't know what that was," Pan mumbled, "maybe some last ditch subconscious effort to cling to my ridiculous denial?" she shrugged tiredly, "I don't know, but I just felt numb, and then, once people started tossing the dirt in the grave, it started to hit me… and then there was this punch," she placed a hand over her heart, "and it was like something broke and all the grief, all the hurt, all of it just flooded in. I just couldn't fight it anymore; I didn't even know I was fighting it," she frowned, "I thought something was wrong with me."
"Maybe, but I'm glad you're yourself again," I leaned in to press my lips to hers, "but I'm sorry you're hurting. There's nothing wrong with being in denial, lots of people deal with that when they lose someone they love. Grief effects everyone differently."
Pan hummed against my lips before pulling away, "I'm sorry, but I'm so thirsty I could probably drain a river right now." She rose from my lap and padded over to the sink, where she turned on the tap and stuck her head underneath it.
I snickered softly, "there's a cup right next to the sink, Princess."
My wife pulled away from the tap to snark, "it's probably been there since I moved out to go to college, that's gross," and went back to guzzling the water for a little while longer before she pulled away, sated at last. She scrubbed the back of her hand over her mouth and smeared her lipstick all over the lower half of her face.
I bit down on my bottom lip to keep the laughter in.
"Crap," she muttered, pawing through the few bottles and containers on the countertop, "where's some micellar water when I need it?"
We both looked up at the soft creak of Pan's old bedroom door swinging open, and waited for the visitors to reveal themselves. Gohan and Videl poked their head in the bathroom.
"Hey," Videl greeted warmly, "we just wanted… to…" she trailed off, finally spotting Pan's vain attempts to wipe the lipstick from her face, "baby, what the hell did you do your face?" behind her, Gohan's lips twitched as he fought to keep his own amusement at bay.
"I forgot I had lipstick on, leave me alone," Pan whined, "do you have some makeup wipes or micellar water in your room? I don't have anything in here."
"I'll go grab some wipes," My mother in-law turned on her heel and left the room. Faint laughter rang out in her wake, and Pan crossed her arms over her chest, face pinched in a slight pout.
"Are you feeling better, sweetheart?"
"Yeah," my wife nodded, "my eyes and throat are sore and I'm ready to crash, but I feel a lot better now. Did you get in touch with King Kai through Dende yet?"
"Dende hasn't said anything so I'm guessing he hasn't yet," my father in-law sighed, "you feel up to coming down to eat? We're just about to start lunch."
"I'll clean up and find something to change into," Pan cringed at her damp blouse, "hopefully something in there still fits. I've had four kids since I lived here last." The cringe deepened.
"If it doesn't, you can borrow something from your Mom."
"Who said you can give my clothes away all willy nilly?" Videl demanded as she re-entered the bathroom, armed with a handful of makeup wipes, "here, honey. All your clothes were baggy as hell, I'm sure they'll fit properly now that you've had a few babies."
I snorted at the affronted look Pan gave her mother as she plucked the wipes from her grasp. She huffed at me before turning to the mirror to begin cleaning her face.
"Gee, thanks, Mama."
"Well, you have spread out some since you had Nora-chan." Videl gestured to Pan's hips, "what do you think you did to me when I had you?"
"Ugh…"
"C'mon Vi," Gohan took his wife's hand and glanced at me, "Trunks, if you want to change, you can borrow something of mine, I think we're around the same size."
"That'd be great, thanks Gohan."
*P*P*P*P*
Pan's POV
I quickly discovered that while my old shirts from my teenage years still fit fine, I had no bras that still fit, and most of my bottoms fit too tightly around my hips and butt. I settled on an oversized dark blue t-shirt, the loosest sports bra I could find, a pair of light grey leggings for the stretch, and some fuzzy purple socks and put my hair up in a messy bun.
"Huh," I murmured, peering at my reflection in my old vanity mirror, "I don't look a day over 18 like this."
Trunks rose from where he was seated on the bed, dressed in a pair of Papa's sweats and a black t-shirt, stomach grumbling like a trash compactor. My own mirrored it, perhaps crying out in sympathy, and I offered a hand to him, "ready to eat?"
"Yep." He leaned down to brush his lips against mine, "you look beautiful."
"Thank you."
We tangled our fingers together and made our way downstairs, descending into barely bridled chaos. A small stampede of chibis flew past us at breakneck speed, cheering for the oncoming meal. Huh. I guess we weren't really missed, at least not by our older children.
I led the way into the living room, where Marron, Bra, Bulma, Juuhachi, Grandma Pandia, and Grampa Hercule were settled.
"Oh Pan-chan, are you okay?" My mother in-law rose from the sofa with a sleeping Boxer cradled in her arms. I smiled and nodded, "I'm okay, um… do you want me to take him?" I could tell she was straining a bit; Honey Bun was a big boy after all.
"Please," she scurried over to me, "I love him dearly, but he's a solid little thing." I gently lifted him out of my mother in-law's arms and cradled him lovingly. Boxer peered up at me curiously, and then gurgled and pressed a hand against my cheek.
"Yeah, Mama's back to normal," I murmured, taking a seat on one of the other sofas, "has he eaten?" I looked up at Bulma, who shook her head in the negative.
"You need to eat something before you feed him," Trunks cautioned, "you haven't eaten since breakfast, which you barely ate any of." Right…
As if on cue, my mother emerged from the kitchen to announce, "everyone outside, lunch is finally ready."
*~* Later in the Evening *~*
No POV
Bulma stepped out onto Gohan and Videl's back deck, the late evening sun washing over the yard in shades of brilliant reddish orange. The children were running back and forth over the grass, playing a game of tag by the looks of it. She smiled at the squeals and jubilant peals of laughter as she came to lean against the railing. Her heart ached, as not too long-ago Chichi would've been at her side cooing over their shared grand and great grandchildren. The two of them couldn't have been more different, the fierce warrior-princess-turned-housewife and the drop-dead-gorgeous-genius and heiress, but they'd always gotten on like a house on fire.
Oh Chi… I'm gonna miss you so much.
The blue haired genius' morose thoughts grew dimmer still as they turned from Chichi to her dearest and oldest friend, and the gaping hole that his absence had left. She'd have to be blind to miss her godson's expectant glances around during the funeral and the burial, always looking for that trademark spiky hair.
As her cerulean eyes roved slowly over the yard, they landed on a familiar dark flame of hair. Her husband was standing off to the side of the yard, arms crossed over his expansive chest. Something Trunks had mentioned off handedly in the past few days pushed to the forefront of her mind, and she made her way down the deck steps and across the yard to his side.
"Hn."
"Hello to you too, husband mine," Bulma teased gently, sidling up him. The couple stood in a comfortable silence for a time, watching the children play. The blue haired genius pursed her lips in thought, unsure of how exactly to broach the subject.
"What is it that you don't want to tell Trunks about what happens when a saiyan loses their mate?" Bulma asked, bluntly but not unkindly. As she expected, Vegeta stiffened and went to step away, but she grasped his arm, "Vegeta, please."
The fact that he could pull away effortlessly if he chose and instead let her keep him in place spoke volumes. Bulma watched in silence as her husband vacillated over his thoughts, following the minute twitches and shifts in his facial expressions. A few more beats of silence reigned, and the genius' stomach dropped with a sobering realization.
"He's not coming back, is he?" she asked, low and so very soft.
Vegeta sighed, "this is my first time witnessing a saiyan losing their mate in some time," he swallowed, "but no, I don't think Kakarot will be coming back anytime soon." Or at all. Saiyans mated for life, and when one of them was lost… there was nothing in the known universe that could soothe that ache. Many chose complete and utter solitude, exiling themselves from all living beings, others grew more and more sloppy in battle until one of many careless mistakes finally cost them their life.
"Vegeta, he can't just leave his family behind like this, not now after they've lost Chichi too," Bulma's voice was low, but steadily rising with her agitation and hurt, "Gohan and Goten need him to be present-"
"And since when has that buffoon been a steady presence in their lives?" Vegeta demanded, a sharp bark of sarcastic laughter slipping through his stoicism, "you had more of a hand in raising his second brat than he did, for crying out loud. He didn't decide to stick around on a permanent basis until after the mess with Omega Shenlong and the shadow dragons, as if that was enough to make up for all the time he missed with them."
"That's rich coming from you, you weren't even there when Trunks was born and you checked out completely after Cell." Bulma couldn't help the slightest tang of bitter choler on the back her tongue. She'd been spread thin during that time, with a young son of her own, a grieving and pregnant Chichi, and poor Gohan, saddled with both guilt and grief… and Vegeta had stepped out. He might not have physically left them like he'd done during those three years they spent preparing for the androids, but he may as well have, for how present he was.
"I thought we agreed to put that behind us."
"Well it's a bit hypocritical for you to call Goku on shit you've also done to your own family," Bulma snipped, forcing herself to cool down some, "maybe not to the same degree, but… I just… I'm sorry, that was uncalled for." She pressed a hand to her face, "I just don't wanna think about how they've lost both Chichi and Goku just like that." She snapped the fingers of her free hand.
"I don't know that he won't return someday," the old saiyan murmured, slipping his arm around Bulma's waist in a rare show of open affection, "Kakarot's never been a normal saiyan. He could prove us wrong. Perhaps he just… needs time, as you humans say."
The blue haired heiress huffed a mirthless chuckle and rested her head on the prince's shoulder, "let's hope you're right… and Geta?"
"Hn?" the prince forced himself not to react to that infernal nickname.
"If you pull this shit when I die, so help me Dende, I'm calling in a favor with Baba and coming back to haunt your ass."
Vegeta rolled his eyes skyward, wondering what he'd ever seen in this blue harridan that made him fall so hard for her, "whatever you say, woman." He turned his head and buried his nose in her soft blue hair, forcing himself not to pay mind to how the color seemed less vibrant and how so much of it was streaked through with grey.
I can't understand the pain you're feeling, Kakarot… but your family needs you now. More than ever.
I was going to finish this off with either Trunks or Pan's perspective, but Bulma and Vegeta tapped me on the shoulder and asked to be given a little shine. This last No POV segment was written today, the rest of it's been done for a couple years now.
Is Goku gonna come back? I honestly don't know, but this way it's left open for me to decide.
I tentatively have plans for two more chapters to finish this fic off. But y'all know me, I'll get uninspired and forget about it for another couple years lol. So no promises, but that's the plan.
*~*CloudSpires1295*~*