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Strong Heart	By : Camaro Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 8704 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own DragonballZ, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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The sun stretched through the cracks of the window shades, peeling through his eyelids and blinding him to the morning that seemed to always fill him with the dread of another day; not even to mention, the dread of one fucking wicked hang over. He groaned, turning his face away only to be met with the cold air as his blankets were ripped away from his body.

"Wake up," Mirai's voice commanded him, a pillow being wrenched from underneath his head. "We have places to go today."

"Well unless those 'places' involve one-way trips to My-Cock-City, I don't give a flying fuck." Trunks growled. "Get out."

"Hmm..." Mirai sighed, placing a false motherly look upon his face. "No such luck handsome prince. You promised me last night, remember? Three chances. I figure we might as well start today."

"Well," Trunks grumbled, reaching in vain for his lost blankets. "Why can't 'today' start at 2:00 o' clock? I'm exhausted."

"I suppose 13 Long Islands' could do that to a person." Mirai replied blandly.

"Is that was I was drinking?" Trunks moaned, smacking his lips in repulsion. "I was just sure the bartender had jerked off into a cup and sprayed it down with coke."

"Well," Mirai cocked his head to the side. "That might have explained some of the projectile vomiting."

"Vomiting?" Trunks groaned, trying to sort through memories that were so sporadic it was dizzying.

"Fraid' so." Mirai nodded. "It was like watching the Exorcist all over again. And something of a puppet show on the way back in the car. Or at least that's the conclusion I came to. By God Trunks, I figured you were an entertaining drunk, just for a different reason."

"Bite me." Was the only reply.

----------------

Trunks' attitude was less than pleasant as Mirai drove his precious Lamboughini at about the same speed as two snails would procreate, weaving them through Sunday traffic. The older version had said very little, setting a solemn, boring mood for the day as Trunks planned for the worst. He had no idea what the other had in mind but was certain it was to be a very tedious display of emotional diarrhea and he longed to be spending the day committing some interesting form of debauchery instead. Damn him for making this deal in the first place, and damn Mirai for appealing to the desperate inclinations of a horny, drunk idiot.

"So do you intend to at least tell me where we're going or are you just kidnapping me for the fun of it, you old perve?" He spat.

Mirai was less than impressed, rolling his eyes and grumbling something about not being old and looking a far cry better than some drowned out, tweaked out, hung-over mess. He was greeted by the middle finger in response.

As they pulled into the parking lot of a local hospital, a feeling of intrigue swept over Trunks and he vowed silently to hear his counterpart out, if only for the rich 'reward' he'd receive for his good behavior. He grinned, following behind Mirai as they walked towards the entrance, imagining all of the sick, twisted and morally depraved things he intended to do with his 'reward'. By God, it would be earth shattering to finally reach that goal he'd been obsessing over since meeting the older man, the fantasies alone tormenting him.

As much as Mirai claimed to be showing him a different world, in Trunks' opinion, Mirai didn't even live in it. The hero, the good soldier, the bodacious, brawny boy scout that he was, Mirai pillaged his reality by refusing to accept it, taunted on by the human ideals of love and relationships, and all other sources of fanciful foolishness. As much as Mirai wanted to open Trunks' mind, in many ways, he was very narrow-minded himself. Maybe that was the irony of life; that everyone saw everyone else as shallow and empty simply because they hadn't walked the same paths and suffered the same falls as each other. Cursed to always believe that no one could ever truly understand their predicaments. Funny.

Mirai led them through corridors in the hospital, the busy nurses and doctors paying them as little mind as a person might to the scurrying little ant about to be met with his or her foot. And that was what people were to each other, Trunks mused. Ants. Insignificant vessels that once in a while crashed into each other, effecting the other's lives only for that moment only to be forgotten in the next. A worthless existence for certain.

Coming to a random wooden door, Mirai glanced around, making sure that no one was looking before grabbing a large clipboard that had been stashed outside of the room, before entering.

“Susan Palmer,” Mirai announced, reading the typed print. “brutally raped by 6 different men all in the same night.”

“All in one night hm?” Trunks asked, moving towards the bed where a young blonde lay sleeping, hooked up with tubes. Every inch of her skin looked discolored with bruises, gashes along her cheek bones and welts still raised on her throat where they had choked her while doing it. Confusion plagued his mind, unsure as to why they were here or why he was subjected to staring at her pained expression.

“She was just walking home,” Mirai said quietly, taking a seat on the opposite side of the room, Trunks sitting right next to her bed. “a silly girl walking in a violent part of town. I suppose her youth and gullibility made her the perfect target, as she was waved inside a house by a man no more then three years her senior. She was never the popular girl, never the one that made a lot of friends or even knew much of anyone. Loneliness can be the worst enemy of all, Trunks. It clouded her judgment."

Trunks shrugged slightly, clenching his teeth at the first feelings of pity, washing it away as quickly as it had come. Pity was for idiots, he reminded himself. Pity was for people who let themselves be weakened into displaying mercy towards those who didn't deserve it.

“For six hours they took turns beating her tiny womb until there was hardly anything left," Mirai continued, oblivious to Trunks' silent reprove. "raping her until she was bleeding all over the carpet. Between card games and booze, they would leave, ravaging every part of her body until eventually, blissfully, she passed out. When they all awoke, they had thought for sure she was dead. So they wrapped her naked, broken 16 year old body in a sheet and dumped her in one of the worst allies in the city.

“It took doctors nine hours to save her life. Nine hours of sculpting back pieces of her uterus and healing inward vaginal tears. But in nine hours you can’t heal a shattered heart. Fix the broken outer body but the insides will still lay in pieces. She lies there now," he gestured. "perfectly capable of awakening. But she won’t. Her parents come, whispering their love. She could respond but their voices sound like screaming; her screaming. It doesn’t take a heart giving up for a person to die.”

Trunks swallowed, looking at the girl whose eyelashes were pretty and light, her skin probably having been so beautiful at one time. Now, despite clumps of her hair missing, bloodied pieces of scalp peeping from behind gauze and bandages, she still was pretty. An agonizing beauty, hard to look at.

“What will happen to her?” He whispered, taking her hand against what every previous inclination would have instructed. Her digits felt limp and dead against his palm, so fragile and tiny. White little fingers disappearing in his hand, like a child’s.

“It will be hard for Susan,” Mirai breathed, face crumpled in sadness. “Her life will never be the same again. She’s pregnant and she’ll never know who the father is.”

Trunks gasped, staring at the tiny 16 year old girl and hardly believing that anything so small and young could be capable of having a child.

“I thought you were trying to teach me love,” He spat out hatefully, angered that this insignificant girl he didn’t even know could move him. Could touch him. Could make him hold her clammy, cold fingers in his palm, reaching out to move a limp strand of hair from her face. He hated feeling. He hated this.....this sense of emptiness that suddenly engulfed him. Empathy? He had never known such a thing. And why the fuck would he want to?

“Susan will learn it in a way you never could, Trunks." Mirai said suddenly. "A mute girl crumpling on the steps of an abortion agency, screaming with no voice for the strength enough to make it into that hospital and kill the reminder of what they’d done. Banging in her fury on the steps, three times in one week, begging that God give her just enough energy to make it up those steps. But she never will." He said quietly, staring in contemplation. "Maybe, it’s strength alone that keeps her down.

“And until she suffers thirteen hours of agonizing labor, crying out for the first time, she’ll never know what it is to love something so completely. Until she holds that child in her arms, the adoption agency trying to yank it from her grasp, she’ll never know what it means to fight for something with all your heart. They’ll shove contracts in her face, threaten, bribe, speak in kind voices asking what is best for the child. But she’ll be relentless, holding her first love against her chest, never letting go.

“And she’ll never know what it means to forgive the unforgivable until she takes her child home for the first time; until she sobs her silent tears, whispers in her renewed voice promises of a beautiful life. Susan will fight for that child every day. Ironic that so many women abort a child of rape, trying to escape the memory, not wanting to be reminded. And Susan will thank God every day that she can be reminded of her struggle and pain; to know and see every second of every day why it was worth it a thousand times.

“That’s love Trunks. That’s love.”

The tiny hand in his palm suddenly moved, fingers wrapping around his own and startling Trunks.

“She’ll awake now to a world of sadness and pain,” Mirai whispered, moving over towards them. “And the sun won’t shine in Susan’s world until the day Sebastian smiles up at her with beautiful blue eyes.”

“She has a tight grip,” Trunks smiled slightly, staring down at her.

“She’s strong.” He mused.

“She’ll need it.” Mirai said.
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- 14
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Strong Heart