Chapter 10

Letting go of the person you love is possibly one of the hardest things you will ever have to do. It's even harder when it is for all the right reasons but seems so wrong. He was a mess, he knew this and everyone around him knew this. He drank until the bar began to spin, he smoked until his lungs hurt, he did any drugs going just for the kick and yet she had stood by him and begged him to stop. He was supposed to be getting better after all. But, in reality, he was surviving.

After a year and two months they broke up. He had come home blocked one evening and beaten her black and blue. That was when she threw in the towel and ended it. The break up tore him to pieces but she couldn't deal with his reluctant attitude any more. He thrived off drugs, drink and sex. When he was sober he was the nicest guy anyone could ask for, but he was never sober for long.

She left and got on with her life. Recently she settled down with a guy who had a briefcase full of money, or so he had heard. The images of her, lying there beaten and weak, were burned into his skull as a permanent reminder. The reminder of why he had to keep going and had to keep sober.

His heart ached as he remembered her, his stomach heaved and his chest closed in. He loved her god –damn it. And he blew his chance. For that, he hated himself. Watching happy relationships and the affection they held for each other made him want to die. He had been a beast to her and in the end, he lost her.

Here he sat, at Bulmas kitchen table, with a large mug of coffee in front of him. Gohan could really have done with a glass of Jack's, anything remotely alcoholic, but he had made a promise. And this time, he had to keep it.

It was their first real session, and Trunks was nervous as hell. Gohan sat across from him, a cigarette and pen in one hand and a notepad in the other. The younger saiyan wasn't ready to hand over his journal, nor was he ready to speak; so the time passed quietly.

Gohan checked his wrist watch, "It's been fifteen minutes. Do you have nothing you want to tell me?"

Trunks shook his head and looked down at his feet.

"Fine. I'll take this opportunity to talk then. Anything you want to tell me just make a hand gesture or something." Gohan paused and took a deep breath, "Elective mutism. I suppose I should explain to you what that is. It can happen to both children and adults and the individual fails to speak in certain situations. However, Trunks, you fail to speak period."He looked at Trunks, but the boy failed to meet his gaze, "Emotional trauma is the cause of the disease or social anxiety. But they are basicly the same thing if you think about it."

Trunks lifted his pad of paper and quickly scribbled something down. He handed it to Gohan.

But I don't want to speak. When I try to, though, I can't.

"Yes. Well. That's strange but it's not uncommon. You muscles have been out of use for so long that, they are going to require regular exercise to get working again."

Trunks took the paper again, scribbled and passed back.

How long?

"I don't know. It's different for every person."

The younger saiyan nodded and glanced back at his feet. He scratched at his wrist again, his usual response to anxiety. Gohan watched him.

"This actually brings me to another point." He cleared his throat and sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "Do you harm yourself?"

Trunks stopped scratching but didn't look up.

"If you do, I won't think any less of you. And I won't tell your parents. It's between you and me. But you have to promise to stay safe. Okay?"

The boy nodded.

"Good." Gohan stood up and smiled down at Trunks, "Next, I want to know about your weight loss." He pointed his finger threateningly, "And no bullshit."