Chapter 20

The house was quiet. Chi Chi still wasn't talking to Goku and the saiyan was always off in the middle of the forest training. Gohan was spending each and every day preparing his new loft.

Goten was gasping for another fix, naturally, but still had no money to his name. He had raided enough from his mother and knew better than to try his brother. Lucky for him he had a rather clumsy and naïve father. It was a known fact that Goku always left his wallet on the kitchen counter. It was mostly to remind Goku to take it with him; he never did.

Goten crept from his room, his legs and arms trembling, and edged along the hallway. No one was home, that he was sure of, but he still peered into each room just to reassure himself. His paranoia was beginning to set in big time.

Sighing, he scrambled into the small kitchen. The wallet, as always, was located by the kettle. It was somewhat inconvenient that it was in full view of the front door but Goten paid no attention to this small fact and proceeded to raid through the pockets. He carelessly tipped the money into the counter.

"Goten?"

The demi saiyan spun around with the money still grasped in his fist. Goku stood across from him and glanced from his son to the notes in his hand. Goten, needless to say, was speechless. Panic set in and, even before his father resumed speaking, he had starting planning his escape route.

"What the hell are you doing!?" Goku exclaimed.

Goten opened and closed his mouth but could think of nothing to justify the situation. His father frowned and balled his hands into fists; he was a far cry from his normally calm self.

"Well?!" He snarled, "Why are you raiding my wallet? If you need money, why don't you just ask?"

"I….I." Goten stammered, "I need to go."

"What?! No you're staying here until you answer me!"

Goten didn't wait to answer instead he dropped the money to the floor and dashed from the house. Goku hurried after him. He reached the door in time to catch a glimpse of his teenage son fly off towards the city. For a moment he considered going after him but decided against it.

He retreated inside and gathered up his money from the tiles. This situation was becoming exceedingly strange; even if his wife was ignoring it, he couldn't.

What the hell am I going to do?" he thought.

The saiyan paced the kitchen floor and pondered his options. Talking to one of his best friends was the only way out he could clearly see, thus, he picked up the telephone.

Krillin answered on the other end and Goku proceeded to greet him in the usual way. It had been a while since he had last spoken with his friend and he was hesitant to bring him up to date with the current goings on. Needless to say, Krillin was pleased to hear that Trunks was getting better and that Goku's eldest was home but he was less enthusiastic to hear how close he had become to Vegeta. He had never quite trusted him.

"Goku, am I right in guessing that this isn't a social call?" Krillin asked.

"Well yes." Goku sighed," It's about Goten."

"Go on."

Goku explained the situation. He gave exact details on his son's behaviour, eating habits, mood swings and the loss of his job. Finally he clarified what he had just witnessed. Krillin was silent for several moments after Goku had finished speaking.

"I don't know Goku. Couldn't it just be hormones?" Krillin suggested.

"I'm pretty damn sure it's not hormones."

"Well, you have only one other option right now." Krillin paused, "We, as fathers, have a right to invade our children's privacy when necessary Goku. Therefore I wouldn't judge you if you raided his room."

"I'm not so –"

"Dammit Goku, stop being so good natured."

"Fine."

He placed the phone back on the receiver and, without a second thought, marched to his youngest son's bedroom. The door, which had a make shift 'Keep Out' sign stuck to the wood, wasn't locked; Goten had obviously forgotten to do so in his haste.

Goku mentally prepared himself as he pushed open the door. Inside the room was a mess, to say the least, and it smelt of smoke and teenage body odour. The bed was unmade, the sheets were simply piled into a ball in the centre of the mattress, the floor was littered with clothing, paper and various other items and the walls were plastered with posters. The saiyan moved closer to the bed, cringing at the stains on the mattress; he tried his best not to think of his son producing those stains.

His nose twitched. An oddly sweet smell caught his nostrils and he felt slightly light headed. The mysterious stench fabricated from under the bed. Goku knelt down and reached under the wooden structure. His hand caught a small metal safe. He dragged it out into the light, tipped it onto its side and swore abruptly when he caught sight of the contents.

Used needles, empty vials and lighters were only some of the items that fell from the box. Goku didn't know much about drugs but he knew enough.

Goten stumbled to the ground. His heart was pounding in his chest, he was struggling to breathe and his mind was everywhere.

His father had caught him. No doubt, by now, he had discovered the drugs. The demi knew for certain that there was no way he could go back home now.

Although it was early and the winter sun was fully awake, Goten was freezing. He wondered down a relitivly empty street with his arms bound across his chest. His mouth was so dry, his throat felt scalded and his eyes bulged from their sockets.

Despite the lack of people around him Goten still felt paranoid and his pupils darted from side to side. The buzzing in his head was all consuming, gripping him entirely.

He dodged into the first backstreet he came to and crouched behind an open dumpster. The smell of fetid garbage and urine was sickening but Goten was too frightened and desperate to care.

He pulled his wiry legs up and wrapped his arms around them. By now Goten was even finer than Trunks. Bones jutted out where muscles once were and his veins were swollen. Especially where he had been injecting.

He lent his head back against the brick. His jaw shook furiously and his teeth chattered.

He was alone now, without drugs, money or shelter. The snow was beginning to fall again and he was only wearing a rather baggy hooded top and faded jeans. His body felt like led; he felt his mood shifting from bliss to irritation and back again within a matter of moments. Even his Saiyan blood was helping his withdrawals.

Goten lent to the side and retched. He gripped an arm around his stomach and pull back against his ribs. Everything in his body ached with effort. He spat and sat back into his previous position.

If anything he should at least try and stay warm, so he huddled his legs up against his chest and curled into a fragile ball.