Skeletons: Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Vegeta brought Trunks to Orange Star High the next day. Although the prince didn't really care either way if the boy went or not, he needed time to think things over. He was meeting Goku in a coffee shop in the city at noon and he didn't want the boy to get suspicious. As usual the demi saiyan didn't say a word. Worse yet, Trunks looked paler than usual, the bags under his eyes were almost a deep purple, he had bruises on his knuckles and his clothes practically drowned his once muscular frame. Vegeta almost winced when he saw him.

If he was honest, he was a little ashamed. Trunks was the heir of the prince of saiyans after all, he should be strong. But now, he seemed to be getting weaker every day.

Vegeta sat at the table in the cafe, his fingers running over the edges of the coffee mug and his brow furrowed in frustration. It was times like this he really wished his wife were around.

***

Everyone was staring as Trunks walked through the halls. Goten was at his side and compared to the younger saiyan, Trunks looked like a member of the walking dead. Goten was almost 6'0, while Trunks was a mere 5'7. Due to a combination of his genes and lack of proper nutrition. The pair of distressed jeans hung off his waist, the belt had makeshift holes punched into the leather, the shirt was three times too big and the jacket drowned him. He clung to the straps of his backpack, trying to keep it on his shoulders; but it was obvious he was struggling.

"You okay?" Goten asked when they reached their lockers.

Trunks quickly nodded. He placed his bag into the small space and only took out the books for his first few classes. Goten did likewise.

"How about we skip?" The younger saiyan asked.

Again, Trunks shook his head. Goten looked crestfallen.

"Oh come on. You're only missing French and Maths! I'm only missing my German and RE class."

Trunks shook his head again more violently and slammed his locker shut. People around them began to stare. Goten frowned. Trunks narrowed his eyes in an angry expression, gripped his books tightly and immediately walked away from his friend. The younger saiyan stood gobsmacked at his best friend's behaviour. He had never been so aggressive to him outside a spar before, and he never used to turn down skipping classes.
Trunks stormed on, ignoring the whispers and the stares. He kept his head down and his stride as quick as possible. He tried to block out the snide remarks, he tried to convince himself that they didn't hurt.

"Wonder what happened to him?" He heard one girl ask.

"Looks like he threw up half of Wal-Mart!" There was cackle of laughter from the group and Trunks could feel his face blush.

As he came across the boys bathroom he ducked inside, checked no one else was around and locked himself in a cubicle. He could feel the anxiety mounting. His heart began to beat faster in his chest, faster and faster until he felt as if it was going to rip through his flesh. He stumbled and crouched into a tight ball between the toilet and the wall. He could barely breathe. His body was shaking and sweating. Out of nowhere a wave of nausea came over him and he reached over the bowl of the toilet. Thick yellow bile rushed up his throat, it burned and tasted faintly of blood.

What was this?

He had never felt so terrified, so cribbed and confined. He gripped his violet hair. His chest felt too tight; he was choking. But his body felt numb. He didn't feel like he was even in the room anymore. Detached. From himself and reality.

Trunks squeezed his eyes shut. He needed to escape. School had never done this to him. He had gotten up and on with it. Never had he felt so isolated. So afraid of the faces and the voices, the laughter and the names. Tears leaked from the side of his eyes. He felt weak. Helpless and weak.

He was begging for the world just to open up and swallow him whole. That or keep people out of the bathroom.

The bell rang in the hallway and Trunk's heart beat harder. It sent pain through his chest, down his muscles and to the core of his bones. He tried to scream, after so long he finally tried to make a sound but he couldn't. It came out as a harsh rasp; like something dying. He took hold of his throat with one hand, the other still holding his head, and he desperately tried to force out some sort of noise. Anything.

His muscles clenched painfully and he slumped, exhausted against the wall. One hand still in his hair and the other loosely round his throat. He pulled his knees up to his chest. He would stay in the bathroom, until everyone had gone. Then, only then, he could leave.

The demi-saiyan put his head back against the wall and gave a small, defeated whimper.

***

Goku wore a rather distressed pair of denim jeans along with a shirt and jacket. But the best part had to be the knitted, striped scarf and the brown caterpillar boots. Vegeta smirked; Kakarot certainly looked like a convincing human. But then again, so did he, in his black jeans, boots, and flannel shirt. It wasn't a strange sight to see the two saiyans in human clothing these days, apart from when they were training. Yes, they had certainly blended in in civilian life.

The coffee shop was like it always was when Vegeta and Bulma visited it; full of intellectual couples discussing important issues and books. The prince spied Goku in a booth near the window and so he crossed the shop to the secluded corner.

"Hey Vegeta. Take up a pew so we can get drinks." Goku smiled.

A young woman approached to take their order and Goku politely asked for an extra large hot chocolate with sprinkles. And marshmellows. Vegeta, much to the womans distaste, ordered vodka on the rocks. Drinking was a habit of his these days.

They held off talking until their orders arrived in fear of being overheard.

"Have you talked to him yet?" Goku asked when the woman strode away.

Vegeta stared into his vodka glass solemnly, "No. I can't bring myself to do it."

"You have to." He watched as the prince threw the vodka back with one gulp, "You're not going to find the answer at the bottom of the glass."

"I might." Vegeta attempted a smirk, "There is a story at the bottom of this glass and I am the pen Kakarot."

Vegeta ordered another. Goku frowned when it was set in front of him and he knocked it back before the waitress could even leave.

"Sir. Would you like me to leave the bottle?" She asked after he ordered a third.

Vegeta nodded and so it was done. She left. Goku stirred his drink with the small stick supplied, he picked the marshmellows out with his fingers and licked the foam from his fingers. Vegeta poured a fourth glass, but did not drink it immediately. He simply stared into its clear surface.

"I have been drinking too often." He whispered.

"Yes. It hasn't gone unnoticed."Goku snapped.

Vegeta glared at him, but he couldn't even muster the strength to seem frightening. It just wasn't like him. Goku suddenly felt a pang of quilt for being so angry with him. Could you really blame him for drinking? His son was wasting away, he was disappearing from them and they couldn't help him.

"Vegeta. I'm sorry."

"No. You are right baka. I hate to say it but you are." The prince lowered his head, "I have an idea. The woman won't like it and neither will the boy. But it has to be done."

"Go on."

"Take him to the doctor, if it doesn't help then put him into a hospital. Just for a while. It may help him, it may not but it's a last resort."

Goku remained silent.

"It's a bad idea isn't it?" Vegeta put his head in his hands, "I'm such a baka."

The prince never used to doubt himself like this, never so badly. Goky laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Discuss it with Bulma. Then, come to me and Chi-Chi. We will figure something out, a plan of sorts. We will do anything we can to help Vegeta."

The prince looked up at the younger man; he looked weary and defeated. His skin was unhealthily pale from worry, his eyes didn't hold the same pride as before nor did his stance. He attempted a smile.

"Do you want to help me finish of my bottle?" he said.

Goku laughed. His friend had a hell of a way of saying thank you.