Skeletons: Chapter 5

Chapter 5

It wasn't until the saiyans stopped their sparring that Goku noticed just how exhausted the other man was. Vegeta had deep bags under his eyes and his face held a different sort of anger. The older man had been training more often, barely stopping for a break. He and his wife had also been spending some of their evenings together, talking and spending quality time. Vegeta wasn't one for 'quality time'. But Goku had a feeling that their time wasn't spent indulging in a quickie.

They sat on a bank of luscious green grass. Goku flopped down onto his back and Vegeta, lacking his usual grace, sat beside him. He pulled off his white gloves and ran his fingers through his dark auburn hair. A deep sigh escaped his lungs.

"You okay Vegeta?" Goku asked.

"Hn." Vegeta snorted with all the enthusiasm of a dying dog, "Of course I am Kakarot."

"Sure? You seem exhausted."

"I am not exhausted!" The prince closed his eyes gently, the furrow on his brow deepened, "Not from the spar anyway."

Goku pushed himself up onto his elbows. He looked at the pained expression of his friends face and felt a pang of sympathy for the man.

"Trunks?"Goku asked.

"That obvious isn't it?"

"It hasn't gone unnoticed. We are all concerned."

"Not as concerned as his mother and I Kakarot." Vegeta lifted his head but neglected to look into the younger man's eyes, "He appears to be getting worse each time I look at him. The onna insists he is better off with some space, but I am not so sure. I feel like knocking him senseless, if only it would get him to say something."

It was a rare occurrence for the prince to speak to openly about his feelings, so Goku remained silent and kept his hands to himself, in fear of ruining the moment. But he made it clear that he was listening intently as the Prince went on, in little detail, about the obvious changes in his son.

"Well, don't sit there like a baka!" Vegeta snapped, "What the hell are we supposed to do?"

"I'm not a Docter Vege-"

"I know you're not! But you always seem to have the goddamn answer to everything!"

"Vegeta." Goku replied calmly, "You need to start taking him to a doctor." Before Vegeta could protest Goku took grip of both his shoulders, "It is important that you take him to someone who knows what to do. It's the only thing that is going to make anything better."

"You're right Kakarot." The prince pulled away, "Dammit. I wish you weren't right."

"To be fair it isn't me. You both have been getting this advice from people ever since the beginning. But you both wouldn't go for it."

"Neither will Trunks you know? He has more of me in him that you all can tell. I didn't even start to notice until he hit adolescence."

"Yeah. Puberty hormones are a bastard."

The prince chuckled. Something he rarely did.

"I'm glad you told me this Vegeta." Goku said.

The prince stood up and pulled his gloves back on.

"Don't expect it to be a regular thing Baka."

***

Trunks lay spread out on the cool tiles of his kitchenette. He had his shirt off and a pair of white boxers over his legs. His fresh wounds stung from the numbness of the floor, his eyes were heavy with weariness, his limbs felt completely detached from his body and his ears were ringing. His insides were aching, not from the lack of food, but an internal agony of nerves and regret, it weighed a knot inside him and he felt as if he could barely move.

.--------Bump.----

His heart was out of beat. First slowly, then rapid palpitations. It was bliss. Agonizing, weakening bliss. He lay still and listened to the sounds of the world around him; dripping taps, barking dogs, the whir of the fridge. He felt for his family's energies, he felt for his neighbours, his dog. He felt for anything and anyone. It was all okay because it was just him behind that piece of locked wood. Him and no one else.

When the sun reached through the balcony's glass doors to where he lay on the floor, Trunks rose to draw the curtains. His movement was sloppy. As he pulled across the fabric, he realized it would be best to throw on some sort of shirt and a pair of jeans; just in case his father broke the damn door again. He had spent all night tampering with it and eventually managed to fix it.

He paced to his bed room and retrieved a pair of faded, worn jeans and an oversized hooded sweat shirt. It was still pretty early out and the young demi-saiyan really had nothing overly amazing to do. Nor did he want to. He just wanted to lay and watch the hours crawl by. So many of his 'friends' on the instant messenger on his computer had emailed him asking to hang out or meet up. Many of them would have gotten an immediate 'Yes' if he would have still been a happy 12-year old. Not now. It was hard enough to just reply to them, let alone hold up a conversation. It just seemed too hard.

In fact, getting up seemed too hard. Watching the day pass by was too hard. Boiling the kettle was too hard. Everything was too damned hard.

Trunks flopped onto his bed, rolled onto his stomach and put his head into the crook of his elbow. He may have slept decently yesterday during the day, but somehow he was still exhausted. His head was just so full; there would be no chance of him dropping off with that racket. He turned onto his side and watched the small read hand on his alarm clock make its way slowly around the clock's face.

. Tue.
I don't have much to say today. My time has been spent in my room, moping I guess. I don't feel like going out. I have school, but I just can't face it. Not today. Tomorrow, maybe. I doubt it though. Dad told me that tomorrow, I am going. He means it too.
I am exhausted. My head is pounding. In fact, every goddamn part of my body aches. Dad almost caught me last night; I had a particularly bad episode. Thank kami it's officially winter and it is getting colder. The last bit of autumn summer we got was yesterday. Thank fucking kami. Anyway, my arms look as if I had a fight with a lawnmower. And lost.
I don't think I can do this anymore. It's too much to keep hiding like this; everything is too much right now. And can't stop goddamn yawning.