Domination

Domination Chapter 13: No Cure

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“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned…”

The great thing about being Catholic is the fact that no matter what you do, you can be forgiven everyday with a clean slate. As long as you confess to those sins and are forgiven, it’s as if nothing ever happened; As if you didn’t kill that snitch, or you didn’t sleep with that prostitute. Now, I’m sure that there is more to the Catholic Religion than that, but that is just the gist I got from it. Recently, I have been questioning my faith to any sort of “God” or “Higher Power” because of the insanity I have been in the clutches of. What “God” would put such a terrible thing on a person?

It’s difficult to find your own middle ground when you have a mother who worships the Japanese god’s and spirits, and a father who believes in just the “Other World” and see’s this said “God” as our very own Earth Guardian, Dende. One can’t go to a billionaire who has no belief in a God, rather that science is why we exist, or a Saiyan Prince who used to worship a handful of gods and a King, but now has no belief as well. How can a confused, schizophrenic Saiyan boy such as me find “faith”?

Who better to open me to more experiences and beliefs than my own lover, who happens to be a Satanist?

I told him I was confused. That I didn’t know what to believe. If there is a God, what makes Him so special that I have to worship him? Was Heaven worth it? Why the hell should I give a damn about religion anyway?

“Bella, nobody HAS to give a shit about religion,” He would tell me, stroking my jaw as I lay in his lap. As he talked to me, I stare at his messy hair, wavy and curly on some ends, spilling over his shoulders and forming around his handsome face. A beautiful and enticing sight, my lover’s natural look is. I twine a finger around a wavy curl of his, listening to him. “Religion is simply a mere scape goat. Something for people to find comfort in, in a fucked up world like this. Humans need answers to life, to why they exist, reasons for why the way things work like they do. The human mind just can’t grasp ‘It is what it is.’ They need something more than that.” I twine another finger in his thick hair. “It’s another reason to kill. Another reason to hate one another. To think that one is better than the other. Religion is well…. Hypocritical.”

“But you have a religion.” I shot back at him, my purple pills giving me extreme mood swings at times. But he let my growl pass, knowing just exactly how I act and having no care.

“That is because I DO believe in something more powerful spiritually. I don’t need explanations, but I am just fascinated with that higher power. It doesn’t necessarily mean God and Heaven. Where people believe in a God figure, I believe in the opposite… The incredible powers that a darker being has. Can give you, if desired. The sinister power of God’s mortal enemy is what I desire and crave. Of Lucifer.” He took an arm out and stretched it in front of us. “What I worship… is greater than any life beyond the grave. What I worship gives me the powers every human craves. Just… for a little price.”

In the dark of the night, his arm began to light up with a red aura, making a weird whirring noise. “A soul… when you really think about it… doesn’t mean that much to me. I don’t mind trading it for something far greater…” Dillon whispered and right before my eyes, the smoke of the aura took the shape of a tiny demon creature, dancing in his palm. “A soul for demonic powers… sounds like a fair trade to me, no?” The smoky demon twirled around his suddenly clawed fingers, making small growling noises, its wings staying close to its body.

I knew there was a reason for why he was so powerful. So sinful and desirable. Just as Lucifer is to humans… I think I am going to have to become a worshipper of the Dark Lord, just like him.

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The rush that one gets with sex is unlike any rush one can experience. The euphoria, the adrenaline, the sheer primal instinct that every human has all comes out during one sinful act of lust and desire. It’s no wonder back centuries ago man killed man for a mate, even to this day the crimes of passion are still thriving. One cannot help but attain the climax all humans crave. Once one has found the other that brings them to nirvana, they will never let them go. They will fight to the death to keep their lover, kill to always have their prize. Barbaric yes, but oh so true.

My nirvana, the keeper of my desire’s and passion, touches me in places he knows will bring out the moans in me. He can spend hours just exploring every nook and cranny of my body, every curve and angle, out of sheer curiosity to the sounds I will make. And this one act of desire is no exception to his adventures.

Scalding hot water that pours over us from above only enhancing the desire and lust while the cool granite I am pressed against makes for a delicious extreme of temperature. My body quivers as his hands and mouth roam over me like a starving nomad. Certain areas on my body are extra sensitive to his touches, which causes my voice to carry into different pitches. My legs can hardly keep my body up. I am ready to collapse to my knees, but this Italian demon won’t allow it. He wants to torture me, he wants to listen to me beg.

He slides that part of his body that I worship inside of me, my body still so nice and tight for him even after all the sex we have. I moan and cry out his name while my face is pressed against the cool granite, clawing at the stone as if I were trying to grip onto reality. He knows how to angle his hips as he pounds into me, knowing where that spot is inside of me that brings me to the stars. He avoids the obvious aching I have for him, wanting me to hold out as long as I possibly can. He moans my name in my ear, quickening his pace and biting my neck. I try my best to meet his vicious thrusts by pushing back.

Our cries of passion bounce off the tiled walls of Dillon’s luxury shower. Spots begin to dance around my vision as he hits my bundled nerves over and over again. I voice my passion quite loudly, my strength making me crush the granite under my fingertips as I feel my peak about to hit. Dillon was getting louder and more anxious, his peak racing along with mine. I think the best moment that lovers share, is when they experience orgasm together. It brings them all the more closer to one another, as if their love is binding together for eternity.

Just like Dillon and I will always be.

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Voorhees’s POV

I love making Mr. Gohan squirm in his seat. It’s such a fun game to play in class; a game that only he and I know. My handsome teacher was very reluctant at first to start this affair with me at the beginning, for many good reasons. He was married, he had a child, he was my teacher, and supposedly he wasn’t “gay.” All of that now just seems so silly and unimportant now that this shameful affair has been going on for almost 2 months now. The whole class is having our “silent study time” to prepare for the big test coming up tomorrow, and this is when I like to play our game.

It starts by me staring at him with a smirk, chin resting in the palm of my hand. Every time, he just knows I am looking at him, and every time he looks back at me. My stare is usually sexual, eyes lidded heavily with an aroused blush over my nose at the dirty thoughts I am thinking. Then he starts to blush, his eyes getting wide and attempting to tear away from my gaze. But it never works, and he ends up catching more glances at me, pretending to be writing down something or flipping through a book. By this point, I take either a pencil or a pen and bring it up to my lips, tapping slightly, so if someone is watching me it looks like I am just pondering up an answer.

When I have Mr. Gohan’s full attention, I slide the utensil across my lips, parting them slightly. Then I bring my tongue out to skim the other direction. It is then, that Mr. Gohan starts shifting in his seat. I then take the pen away from my mouth to bite my lower lip seductively. He clears his throat then pulls on the collar of his shirt. He knows what I am thinking. He knows what I want. I bring the pen back and nibble of the tip of it, letting a little slip behind my lips. I suck on the cap slightly and Mr. Gohan knocks over a cup with writing utensils suddenly, making everyone jerk their heads up and stare at him. He just gives his smile and scratches the back of his head out of habit, and that is my cue to jump out of my seat and pick up the mess he made.

I pick up all the pens and pencils and place them in the cup, then stand to stare Mr. Gohan right in the face with that same seductive smirk. Our eyes lock and the tension between us is thick. I hand over the cup and as he grabs it, our fingers brush and I gasp silently with a sexual smile. He simply lets out a ragged breath and pulls away to get back to his desk. The look in his beautiful black eyes tells me I am definitely going to be getting some as soon as lunch hits. Going back to my seat, I grin with success, winning my favorite game. Next to me, Goten gives and agitated huff and rolls his eyes at me. All I can do is giggle.

Is it lunch yet?

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Somewhere on the west side of the city…

The sounds of a loud buzzing alarm could hardly be heard over the roar of traffic from the interstate right behind a ratty apartment complex. A pale hand shot out from a mountain of blankets and pillows to slap at the clock, groaning at how it was morning already. The figured moved around on the mattress whose home was the floor instead of a bed frame, throwing the covers off of himself. The pale teen stretched and yawned, his inhuman blue eyes opening to take in his surroundings. He ran his fingers through his silky, straight raven black hair that hovered over his naked shoulders. When bringing his hand back, a blonde chunk fell in front of his right eye.

The room had dirty beige walls and a dirty beige carpet, no cleaning product known to man able to get the stains out. It was small and uncomfortable, room enough for a mattress and a bookshelf. The teen stood clumsily and walked over to the mirror hanging over the door of his bedroom. He looked at himself fully, always mesmerized by his own looks. A carbon copy of his father, from head to toe, save for the blonde that the teen dyed himself. He inspected the little holes in his face where he would be later putting colorful piercings inside and then stared into his own eyes. A color no human could possibly have. Artificial. Fake.

The teen then dragged himself over to his closet and pushed aside the sliding tin door, looking at his small wardrobe. Mostly black, some he had made himself, others he had so skillfully stolen from many stores. Considering the life he had been living for the past 10 years, stealing had become not only a rush, but a necessity. When you are constantly broke living in a slum, how else can you get by? The black-haired teenager picked out his favorite outfit, black shorts with a white and black striped shirt and knee high converse shoes, then set it on his bed, today being one not like the rest. His father was finally letting him go to school and he wanted his first day to start out right.

He pulled open his door with some force, the thick paint making it stick to the frame. Immediately to his right was his father’s room, door slightly ajar to reveal a pitch black room with the TV blaring, a sleeping figure who looked exactly like him sprawled out on the bed. The teen came in quietly and turned the TV off, stumbling over bottles of empty beer and packs of cigarettes. He turned and grabbed a blanket that had fallen to the floor, putting it over his father who reeked of alcohol, smoke and pot. Another night of wallowing in self pity, his child figured.

He exited and went into the small bathroom that was right across from his bedroom in the tiny hallway, getting out his toothbrush and toothpaste. When he turned on the sink, water spit out and then disappeared. ‘Dad…. You forgot the water bill again…’ He sighed and threw the things down. No water meant no shower, no teeth brushing, and nothing to drink. The teen went to his room to put his clothes on, then went down the tiny hall and into the living area, stretching again.

The living area had 2 black leather couches given to them by his aunt, a TV and a coffee table with bills, bottles, and used cigarettes on top. To his right was the “dining room” that was simply a small card table and two folding chairs, last night’s dinner still sitting out. In front of the “dining room” was the little kitchen with dirty dishes everywhere. The blue-eyed kid sighed and opened the small fridge, chuckling slightly at thinking that there was going to be food in there magically overnight. A carton of expired milk, some random herbs for cooking, a failed attempt at an apple pie, and a lemon stared the kid in the face, mocking him and his father’s broke life. He went over to the small pantry and grabbed a box of stale cookies for his breakfast. Luckily, since he was just like his father, he only needed one meal a day, if that.

Going into the living area, he opened the blackout curtains to reveal a tiny patio for outside and the rest of the ratty apartment complex. Run down and cheap, the teen had been used to this almost his entire life. Opening the sliding door and stepping outside, he inhaled the stench of garbage and cigarette smoke. There was a time, long ago, when he didn’t live in the city with his father. Instead, he used to live in the country, surrounded by beautiful trees as tall as the buildings of the city with animals and valleys and all sorts of things for him to get into when he was a child. But, because his father was a lazy, irresponsible man, this was his life now.

He watched as several cars passed by, all of them junk but with expensive chrome rims that spun. You could earn good money living on this side of the city, just not the way that most people desire to. The teen sighed and went back in to the living area, searching for his cell phone and “hobo bag” backpack. It was 7am and he had just enough time to catch the bus that will take him all the way to the most well known high school in the North, Orange Star High.

He just hoped that he was ready to become part of the chaos.

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Goten’s POV

Another boring session with my physiatrist, the second one this week already. She feels that I need to meet with her 4 days a week, and my father couldn’t agree more with her. I think he just likes coming to visit her. I don’t complain too much. I get to miss a ton of school, which is all just a dull blur anyway. I’m not even sure how my grades are. I can hardly remember the academics from yesterday. But it must not be that terrible considering I haven’t failed out completely. That, or Dillon had fixed my grades for the rest of the year…

We are sitting in complete silence again, like every session, since I refuse to talk to her. Or… well, I did refuse. It doesn’t help that I have a short attention span on top of a severe mental illness. My mind wonders all over the place, and I get more and more curious about the blonde behind the desk. I sit up from the couch and cock my head at her, my movement getting her attention. She arcs her eyebrows in interest, anticipating for me to say something. I open my mouth, she leans forward, but then I close it. She deflates and then goes back to her work.

I rest my chin on my hand and stare out of the window, overlooking the lush gardens and fountains, wishing I were somewhere else. Preferably with Dillon. The more I think of him, the happier I start to get suddenly. I see our figures on the lawn of the garden, holding hands while talking about nonsense, kissing each other and twirling my finger through his thick hair. A huge smile must have been on my face because Simoko had said something to me about my lover.

“Huh?” I asked her flatly, completely not amused at her interest.

“He’s a lucky man you know. Your lover. After all, what else would give you a smile like that that no one has seen?” She winked and began to write again. When I huffed and laid back on the couch she spoke up again. “I used to have someone like that you know. Someone I loved so much I still smiled when he wasn’t around.” She gave a sigh and went back to her work, this time catching my curiosity.

“…. So what happened?” She grinned and instantly I knew she had this planned all along. I was hooked in and there was no turning back now.

She stretched in her chair, her breasts moving with her, then relaxed, tapping her pen against her chin. “Well, he killed himself. Many many years ago.” She shrugged her shoulders, brushing off a painful memory like that, as if it were nothing.

I had leaned in towards her, utterly fascinated at the behavior. How could she not still hurt? How could she just act as if she didn’t really love him? My God, if anything were to happen to cause Dillon’s death, I would follow right behind him. She obviously saw my confusion and gave a giggle. “Sweetie, we were teenagers. This happened almost 15 years ago. And… I guess I should re-word this better. He went out with a bunch of his friends, got fucked up on alcohol and pot, then decided that he would be a show off and attempt to drive his motorcycle. Needless to say, it ended up in a horrible mess.” She sighed, finally showing a tad bit of hurt that I had been convinced she didn’t have. “He had to have a closed casket funeral. Not even 21 years old you know. Asked me to marry him months before this and we had our whole lives planned out. But, you can see where that ended up.”

And just like that, she went back to her work. My jaw hung open, shocked slightly. “Aren’t you still upset? You lost the love of your life, right? How can you just brush it off like that?” I asked, needing to know more.

“Some memories still pain me, Goten. But that was nearly 15 years ago. It is true what they say, time heals all wounds. I can’t dwell on his death for the rest of my life. Sure, I suffered for about 4-5 years, but I’m over it now. I’ll always miss him and love him, but I needed to move on with my life.” She looked at me, a blonde lock falling over her shoulder.

“There is no way… if anything like that were to happen to Dillon, I don’t think I would be able to survive.” I sighed and sunk back down into the comfy couch. I could sense her listening to me with deep interest, and… I caved. “The love I have for this guy… it’s unlike any I have felt before. What I felt for Trunks… that was just dirt compared to this exuberance. It’s probably… because he saved me. Saved me from the horror and loneliness that I constantly felt. Saved me from myself…”

And on and on I went, surprisingly excited that I had all the time in the world to talk about Dillon. My psychiatrist found the tear in my damn and unleashed a flood of vulnerability and trust. I don’t know why I could open up to her now, tell her about what I felt and the demons in my head. I told her about how when the demons whisper in my ear, Dillon is right there to defend me and destroy them. I tell her how whenever I have violent tendencies, Dillon holds me in his arms until I stop shaking and tearing open my palms with my hands.

The more I talked, the more disturbing my words got. But she didn’t flinch. She didn’t run away in disgust. Instead, she listened to every word, actually giving a shit about what I wanted to say. I guess just being able to talk about what went on inside my head unlocked the door. Why it was so sudden is beyond me. The only reason I could possibly think of was that Dillon, my weakness, was how she got to me. Through him, I opened up my schizophrenic mind to Dr. Simoko.

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“Who the fuck is that?”

It was the first thing to come out of Dillon’s mouth since lunch had started at the giant high school. And it definitely caught the attention of his right hand man, Voorhees. The Australian teen followed Dillon’s gaze to settle his eyes on a black-haired, blue-eyed teen dressed in somewhat gothic attire. He looked completely lost and outcasted. And besides all of that, he was possibly the cutest thing Voorhees had laid eyes on in a long while. Voorhees looked at Dillon who was interested in him in an instant.

“Hey Voorhees. Go fetch.” Dillon nodded his head towards the raven-haired teen and Voorhees instantly complied.

The foreign teen weaved through the many students that were crowding the cafeteria, ignoring all the insults and random “faggot” thrown at him as best he could. He was confident with whom he was, but the words still cut him like a knife. Now that everyone in school knew he was openly gay, he knew there was no turning back. It wasn’t just some sick joke anymore. At least he felt safe and protected from harm when he was with Dillon. Anybody would with a guy like that at your side.

“So what’s a pretty little thing like you doing over here all by yourself?” Voorhees stated as he snuck up behind the teen, scaring him.

The boy turned around to face Voorhees, instant blush on his face. “Excuse me?” He freaked slightly, freezing the moment Voorhees grabbed his wrist. “M-my name is Raven…” The raven-haired teen shook his arm, attempting to get away from Voorhees.

“What a pretty lil’ name for such a pretty lil’ thing like you!” Voorhees gave a handsome smile and Raven calmed down somewhat. “NOW. You have to come with me, Raven. It’s best we get you with us before THEY get you.” The Australian teen spoke, making Raven give him a quizzical look. Again, like perfected skill, Voorhees weaved through the people like it was an everyday occurrence, finding humor in the new statements of a new boyfriend. If they only knew.

The golden-kissed athlete made it back to Dillon swiftly, dragging a confused blue-eyed beauty behind him. “Alright then, mate! I want to introduce you to one of the greatest men you will ever meet.” Voorhees outstretched a hand to Dillon, as if presenting a car at a car show. “Dillon Santinni. Dill, he says his name is Raven. Cute little thing, isn’t he?” Voorhees looked over at Raven and winked, seeing that Raven was completely infatuated with the Italian before him.

Raven’s POV

So, coming to this school, I wasn’t expecting anything like this to happen. It was as if the instant I walked in, I was to be picked on and pushed around by every jock I came in contact with. People who didn’t even know me called me a “freak” and even dared call me a “witch.” I looked down at my darker clothes, trying to figure out why. What it because I wasn’t wearing a colorful collared shirt with golf pants? I wonder how they would treat me if they knew that it was all I could afford. Now that I think about it, I would probably be harassed even more.

The more the day dragged on, the worse it seemed to get. My teachers didn’t take me seriously, when I told them I truly didn’t know about the information. Who was Shakespeare? And why on God’s green earth did I need to know about Geometric Proofs (whatever those were)? No one wanted to talk to me when one class broke us up into groups, as if I were toxic or something. The most bizarre of it all was the fact that I was labeled “homosexual” or, as others put it, “a fag.” How do they even know? I don’t even know what I am, so what makes them so smart?

Maybe this was why my dad never wanted me to go to school.

Then it all made sense to me when the lunch bell rang, as to why I was labeled a “gothic fag” earlier. A bubbly and quite feminine looking guy came up to me out of no where, his tight shirt and black eye makeup all but screaming “GAY” at me. There was no way he was from around here, his golden skin a dead giveaway. That or the fact that he had real golden flakes on his bare shoulders like a woman was confusing me. I had no idea what was going on, just the fact that I was moving and being introduced to… the most… gorgeous guy I had ever seen.

See, I don’t really know my own sexual orientation. I guess you could consider me quite confused, considering that I have kissed both girls and boys, just trying to figure it all out. But this Dillon person… he made my heart skip a beat. I felt suddenly giddy and nervous around him. I had never seen such beauty as this before. A sculpted body with a handsome face to match, muscles practically bursting from his dark clothes. His eyelashes were thick and black, making his stunning golden-green eyes just pop. His skin was smooth and olive colored while his thick black hair defied gravity in large liberty spikes. His smile made me want to melt, and my knees weakened. When he introduced himself properly, all I could do was laugh nervously and stumble over my words.

I didn’t snap back into reality until Dillon started talking to me about the school, giving me advice as to where to eat, what to do and where to go. He knew the school more than anyone, and he also knew that no kid here was forgiving of the sin of being “gay” or “gothic.” When I went to object, he stopped me by placing his strong hand over my mouth, and I turned to jello. “Look at what you are wearing. Whether you are gay or not, everyone is going to think what they want. I believe its best you stick with us.”

As if I had a problem with it with this guy.

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Goten’s POV

“Raven Gero?” I quirked an eyebrow up as Dillon told me all about this “cute little goth kid” that had started at school. Where the hell had I heard that name before? “Gero… Hmmm….” I rolled my head back against Dillon’s chest, both of us sitting outside next to his luxury pool that overlooked the grand forest behind the mansion. We watched his full blooded Rottweilers run around and chase each other, the bright sun beginning to set in the distance.

“It’s too bad that you weren’t there. Voorhees thinks he is the most adorable thing he has ever seen. This is odd considering he is fucking with your brother.” Dillon kissed the back of my neck and then rested his chin on my shoulder, sighing contently.

“Voorhees is a whore, Dillon.” I sneered at him, and he laughed. “He’ll sleep with anyone who has a dick and is willing to put it in his ass. I blame you.” I grinned and Dillon pulled away.

“I beg your pardon! Whose idea was it that we should force him to have sex with us back then?!” He acted like he was utterly shocked, but his smile was killing that.

I turned and pushed him playfully, forceful enough to make him lay on the ground. “Don’t blame ME that it was your dick that you were willing to put into him!” I giggled and he grabbed my wrist, pulling me down to lay on top of him. I stared down at his handsome face, still in disbelief that a person could look as perfect as he did. And still in disbelief that someone so rich and powerful and handsome would love someone like me.

He slid his fingers through my hair and let his smile fade. I tilted my head slightly, curious at the change of demeanor. “How did your session go?” He asked quietly, and I understood why he wasn’t smiling.

“It’s psychotherapy. How do YOU think it went?” I groaned and looked away from him, focusing my eyes on one of the female Rottweilers that were pregnant. Dillon had promised me the pick of the litter and it made me happy. I was never allowed to have a pet when I was younger so the thought of finally having one made me feel like a kid again.

Dillon gently grabbed my face and turned me to look at him, his brilliant smile back on his face. I leaned down and pressed my lips against his, both of us sharing a kiss that made me feel better. “Why are you so good to me…?” I whispered against his lips and he snickered. But he didn’t have to tell me why. Just his kisses and his touches were enough reason to let me know why.

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A black Bentley Continental cruised the streets of New York City in the cover of darkness, the city lights playing over the automobile like a dance. It was the time of night that all the bad came out, dirtying the streets as if they were rats themselves. Whores, drug addicts, gangsters, killers, rapists, the insane... There was a special place in hell for people like them. It was just the type of crowd that the Santinni men were all too familiar with. They owned this city and the filthy people who plagued the streets. They even owned half of the police force, along with those who worked for the mayor. Name a high enough price, and one can get people to bend over backwards with the snap of a finger.

Golden-green eyes watched the people closely behind tinted windows, making mental tabs of what they saw and speaking quietly with one another about what should be done and who to go after next. With extreme power, comes great paranoia. You could trust no one but yourself, and even then one could betray oneself. Dillon glanced at his stone-cold father out of the corner of his eye, taking in the hard profile and larger frame. The heir to the Santinni Mafia wondered if his father even trusted his own son, doubting himself all the time. The man had rid himself of his own men constantly, believing them traitors and rats. One will learn that if you work for Giovanni Santinni, you will not have the job forever.

Dillon sighed and felt himself getting antsy. His father had wanted to speak with him about their business, and he had a small hope that they would be discussing Dillon taking over when he reached 21 years of age. He had hoped that finally he had proven himself worthy of the title that came with great wealth and power. He fisted his Versace slacks in a nervous habit, waiting for his father to speak. Thoughts of his mentally unstable lover seeped into his mind, knowing that the boy was sound asleep in his large bed, and he became at ease. A smile even dared to grace his handsome face.

“Dillon.” His father’s voice suddenly boomed and the teen snapped his head to him. This was it. It had to be. “You have surprised me quite a few times these past few years. Especially ever since you met this… ‘friend’ of yours. And with that, you have truly surprised me, Duilio…” Dillon froze at his Italian name and the tone of his father’s voice. He rarely used his Italian name, and when he did, it was never a good thing. “Does our name mean nothing to you? Our business? Our way of life? Does it truly mean nothing to you?” The questions spouted out at him stabbed him repeatedly, leaving him completely speechless.

“Father…” Dillon started, but was instantly backhanded by Giovanni, one of the many golden rings giving him quite a nasty red mark.

Dillon hung his head and felt his face heat up in shame and anger. “I know that he knows! Do you understand the danger we are in? And it is all because of you!” Giovanni roared, smacking the back of Dillon’s head. “You are stupido! Stupido, stupido, stupido!” Dillon could tell his father’s face was red and shaking, not able to contain his anger for long. He felt thick fingers grab his jaw and jerk his head to stare into his father’s flaming eyes. “He knows too much. Take him out.” It was neither a question nor a statement. It was a threat, Dillon knowing exactly what would happen if he didn’t do as asked.

Dillon stared at his father in complete shock. No, he couldn’t –wouldn’t- kill Goten. He could not live without the boy! “No father please! You don’t understand--” He was silenced with another backhanding, the act making him growl.

“Do you question me, Duilio?!” His father was screaming in Italian now, grabbing Dillon by his thick hair and pulling roughly. “KILL the boy, or I will!”

The words made Dillon snap, his primal instinct to protect what was his kicking in. He snarled and grabbed his father’s throat, slamming him up against the tinted window of the Bentley. Immediately, the driver slammed on the breaks. Never once had he laid a finger upon his father. Never through the horrid abuse he suffered through as a child, not once when his father beat their mother when in a drunken stupor, and never ever when all the past lovers in his life were thrown out of it. But to threaten to murder the love of his life, one he would die for over and over again, that was too much. “If you touch him I will destroy everything in your life you have worked so hard to accomplish!!” Dillon roared, the demonic power in his damned soul flaring around him, making his eyes and skin flame red. He could feel his fingers become claws while spikes poked out of his forearm, the power he received from the Devil strong enough to transform him into a demon himself. “I will personally rip your throat out, Father.” Dillon snarled, baring sharp, fang like teeth. There was definitely something inhuman about this Italian teenager.

Giovanni slowly nodded his head, fear plain as day in his wide green eyes. Dillon felt his anger fade, along with his demonic powers. As he calmed and let his father go, his skin returned to its pale olive color and his features became human again. The adrenaline rush left Dillon breathless and panting slightly, turning away from his father to stare out the window, scowl on his perfect face. Long minutes past, the driver taking off again when he felt that everything had settled between father and son. Giovanni finally cleared his throat and Dillon looked at him again, no longer fearing the man like he had his entire life. His father straightened his tie and tapped his fingers on his diamond studded fashion cane across his lap.

“He could be… quite useful… now that I think about it more, my son.” The change in attitude and topic made Dillon blink. He gave his father a stare that demanded to know more. Giovanni smirked and brushed off his shoulder. “He’s not right in the head, no? Quite violent as well, I might add. How about we make him an offer he can’t refuse, Dillon…” The older man looked his son over, gauging a reaction from his mature child. “Or better yet… an offer YOU can’t refuse…”

Dillon quirked an eyebrow, completely interested in what his father had to say. “And what would that be, Giovanni?” He asked, spitting out the name.

“His life… for our work.” Giovanni stated simply, nodding his head at his words. “He lives, as long as he works for us. Deal?”

Dillon gave a snort. “He lives, as long as he works for ME.” A compromise.

The Santinni men stared at each other, watching each other as intently as they would the people on the street. Giovanni mulled over the idea for a moment longer then stretched out his hand.

“Deal.”

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

The clock slowly ticked, seeming to never reach the end of class. Senor Juanes’s gifted students sat and worked quietly on yet another giant paper due at the end of the week. The gorgeous Spanish man sat at his desk and stared off at his class, more or less at his star student. Juanes sighed and smiled to himself, eyeing Goten who was scribbling down yet another grand paper. His smile faded when he looked at the clock, seeing that the school day was going to be over in 5 minutes. He brushed back some strands of hair out of his face and continued to watch Goten.

Sensing eyes on him, Goten immediately looked up to see his teacher looking at him. Senor Juanes jumped and a cute blush formed over his nose, looking around his desk desperately for something to get his attention. Goten smirked and went back to his work.

Seeing that the bell was about to ring, Senor Juanes stood and got his students attention by clearing his throat. “The bell is about to ring and I do know that all of you cannot wait to get out of here. Now…” The man couldn’t help but let his eyes settle on Goten again, the demi smirking seductively at him this time. Senor Juanes pulled on his collar, feeling his body heat up. “N-now… just because it is the weekend doesn’t mean that you don’t have work that needs to be done. I was kind enough to push back the paper till Monday, so I am expecting the best from all of you.” The students gave a sigh and gathered their stuff. A 10 page paper in one week was really pushing it, but it was what one got when in an advanced course.

Just as he was about to say more, the bell rang, signaling the end of the school week. “Alright you can go. Don’t forget about your paper!” Senor Juanes called after the running students. Noticing that Goten was about to walk out with the Australian teen, he placed his hand on the Saiyan’s shoulder. “I also need you to… stay after class…” Juanes gave a knowing smile, and motioned for Goten to come back inside. Goten shrugged and waved Voorhees off, telling him he’d catch up to him later.

Once Goten entered the classroom, Senor Juanes instantly shut and locked the door behind them, resting against the frame nervously. He watched as Goten looked around the room, looking at all the projects and posters from the past year. The Spanish man’s hands began to shake and his face began to heat up, just looking at the teenager. He had never been so attracted to a man before, even though he had had his fair share of men in his life. He would admit that he found many of his male students attractive, so much so sometimes that he had to transfer schools in Spain constantly. Never did he think coming to America, he would face such handsome boys.

He was thrown out of his daydreams as a pair of piercing chocolate eyes met his. His heart raced as he smelled Goten’s spicy cologne, making his knees weak and his mouth water. “You wanted me, Senor…?” Goten purred, his eyes going heavy with seduction. Juanes gulped. Oh yes, he wanted him…

“Y… yes, Goten. I needed to tell you something…” Juanes ran his hands through his hair that was pulled back and stepped out of Goten’s confinements. Goten followed him close behind, staring at his ass in those tight black pants. “You have completely amazed me Goten. Of all the students I have had in the past 10 years from the beautiful coasts of Spain to the insane cities in New York, you alone have mesmerized me.” Juanes turned to find Goten extremely close to him again, backing against his large desk.

His words caught in his throat as Goten pressed his body against his, Juanes having to bend back over his desk. The teen had a very compact, hard body, and the Spanish man couldn’t find his voice. Goten was scorching hot, and Senor Juanes couldn’t help but touch the heat. Running his hands down Goten’s chest, he bit back a moan as Goten pressed closer against his groin. “Go on…” Goten purred and placed his arms beside Juanes, trapping him.

“I.. I am leaving for Spain this weekend… I cannot stay here any longer, Mijo. I realized this after the party. My attraction to you is keeping me in danger constantly. I fear I cannot control this… undeniable desire I have for you…” It was hard for the man from Spain to talk when Goten was grinding against him, biting his lower lip in the game of passion.

“Then why haven’t you done anything about it?” Goten, or so thought, growled in Juanes’s ear, digging his erection against his teacher’s. He had a sinister smirk on his face, and it made his teacher squirm. He looked like a sex god. Like Eros, from Greek history that Senor Juanes had learned about years ago in school.

“I… I am. I’m leaving to get away. Get away from those… pouty lips and muscular body…” Juanes moaned as Goten began to bite his collar bone and grab his bum. His student was driving him crazy. He couldn’t hold back any longer. “Ai dios, Mijo, por favor! Tu necesiito ahora…” The Spanish man moaned and leaned forward, desperate for a hot kiss and hands all over him.

Eros pulled away teasingly, smirking and brushing their lips together. “Too bad you are leaving, huh? I want to do so many things to you…” He gave a growl-like laugh and shoved his teacher on the desk, Juanes instantly wrapping his legs around Goten’s frame. The man begged and bucked against his student, ripping at clothes and grinding against a hard cock. Finding himself with his pants at his feet and his legs on strong shoulders, Juanes snapped back to reality. But by the time he regained himself, it was too late.

“Scream my name, you little bitch.”

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

“…. The hell is taking so long?” Dillon huffed and looked at his Versace watch for the 6th time in the past 10 minutes. He paced back and forth, waiting for Goten to emerge from the school building after staying after class with his teacher. With him were Voorhees and the new addition to their growing group, Raven. Voorhees sat on a bench bored with his chin on his hand. Raven stood off to the side, fidgeting with his hands, watching Dillon nervously. Dillon looked at his watch again and growled, storming towards the building.

Voorhees perked up and let his mouth hang open in an attempt to say something, while Raven jumped at the sudden movements. As Dillon walked up the steps, a very happy and over confident Goten burst through the doors with a smirk. As he reached Dillon, he grabbed his lover and brought him down for a fierce kiss. It took the Italian man by complete surprise, while the black haired, blue-eyed boy who witnessed the whole thing felt his heart sink.

Voorhees came up beside Raven and giggled. “I see the way you look at Dillon every time he is around ever since you got here. I probably should have told you sooner, mate… I wouldn’t touch him with if I were you. Goten snatched him up about a year ago.” The Australian teen gave a coy smile as he watched the blue-eyed beauty deflate. He leaned in extremely close to Raven’s ear, his lips just a whisper from the cartilage, “He’ll probably eat you if you try…”

Goten pulled away from his blushing lover, still smirking. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” He snickered, still locked in his state of mental illness. He winked and walked on towards Voorhees, completely walking past Raven with his nose in the air. He had yet to even acknowledge the boy, let alone care he existed.

Raven looked Goten up and down, being that this was the true first time he had seen the teen ever since he had started almost 2 weeks ago. He looked oddly familiar, even though he had never met the kid till now. Memories of when his father told him all the stories of his past came rushing to his brain in an instant, making Raven ever more curious. He snapped back to reality when he felt a hand touch his shoulder. It was Voorhees. “Don’t worry about him, mate. He’ll warm up to you eventually…” he started, but seemed as though something had caught his attention.

And as a matter of fact, something had.

Voorhees let go of Raven and waved his goodbyes, running off to the side of the school where a tall and handsome teacher stood, an almost scary replica of an older Goten. “He’s such a slut.” Goten piped up, winding his fingers with Dillon’s. Raven watched as the two exchanged a few words and then left with each other behind the school in the back parking lot.

“He seems like a nice guy…” the blue-eyed beauty said, more or less to himself.

“Yeah don’t let that fool you. Goten is right. He likes to get around, especially with the older men.” Dillon turned to talk to Raven, smile on his face. “Don’t get me wrong, he is a nice guy. But mostly when he wants something from you.” Raven nodded at Dillon’s words, not really hearing him, but mostly staring at him in awe. Shaking his head to get out of his daydreaming, he looked at his watch and realized he was going to be late. He too said his goodbyes and ran down the street, disappearing from sight within seconds.

“He’s strange.” Goten sighed and leaned against a lamp post on the sidewalk.

“I wish you’d give him a chance. He’s really sweet.” Dillon remarked and stood next to his dazed lover. They sat in silence for a few more moments, before the Italian spoke up again. “I take it Senor Juanes had some important stuff to tell you?”

Goten couldn’t stop the cocky smile that spread across his face. “Or show me.”

Dillon shook his head and chuckled to himself. ‘Should have seen that one coming.’

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

Both teacher and very antsy student rode in silence together, one lost in his own thoughts while the other had ideas spill into his perverted mind as to what he was getting into tonight. This happened almost everyday like clockwork. Gohan was trapped, constantly suffocating and wanting to escape the torture he had to endure with the younger man next to him. He was exhausted all the time, trying his best to wear out his student and satisfy him enough to make him leave. But it never suffices. The Australian boy always crawls back for more, begging for it, driving Gohan crazy. And lately, not the bad crazy either.

On the other hand, the teen felt as though he would never be satisfied. How could one tire from the activities that he and his wise and older lover progressed in everyday? He loved the way his body burned and ached for his teacher. He loved the moment when he reached pure bliss, crying out to the world his love and desire. He especially loved the sounds he could rip from his lover when he dug his nails into his back and moaned in his ear.

Voorhees looked over at Gohan with a smile plastered on his face, resting his chin on the palm of his hand, leg crossed over the other. With his free hand, he reached over and ran his fingers up and down Gohan’s arm, making the older man jump at the contact. Gohan looked at him, holding his gaze for what seemed an eternity. Turning his attention back to the road, Gohan sighed. What was the point? The boy was hooked, and it was his fault for leading him on. Before this, he was too nice, paid too much attention to him, and even smiled at him when it was probably not necessary.

But he couldn’t help it back then. Jason amazed him in sports, being the best player on the field, always pushing himself to the breaking point. He was incredibly fast and sharp, making the right decisions at the perfect moment. Gohan adored that in a person. Not only that, but Jason amazed him in the classroom. For being a jock, he was smart as well. Private schools would help in that, but it seemed like Jason wanted to learn and was actually interesting in what Gohan had to say. Now he knew that he was extremely far from the truth.

“So what are we going to do tonight, Mr. Gohan?” Voorhees purred and moved his fingers up to stroke Gohan’s jaw. The movement was tender, and as much as he hated admitting it, Gohan liked the affection.

“The same thing we do every night, Jason. I bring you home, do you, and then you leave with enough time for me to clean up before my wife and daughter gets home.” Gohan groaned. He hated to treat Voorhees this way; it was completely out of his character. Whatever the kid saw in him, he wanted to take that and turn it on itself. Gohan had a good heart and he wanted to do good for everyone just like his father. When put into a situation that he could not control or escape, he panicked.

Hearing Voorhees huff, something had finally dawned on Gohan. How he had not seen it before was un-telling. Voorhees held his future by his balls, and with each time that Gohan shot him down, the boy would no doubt squeeze just a little tighter. The Saiyan man had been blackmailed into the affair, because Voorhees truly did have the power to ruin his life forever. Just like all the other teacher-student relationships he had seen on the news, it was always the teacher to blame. It was always the teacher who was the terrible monster to have a sexual relationship with the student. All his pupil had to do was tell anyone about them, and he was fucked.

Because he was forced into the affair by Voorhees’s threats, it was highly possible that if Gohan made the boy mad, he would for sure be doomed. The Saiyan looked at Voorhees to see that the boy wasn’t pissed, but hurt. He had been lucky this far to treat him terrible, but having a new found look at the entrapment, it was time to turn the other cheek. Give Voorhees what he wanted, to an extent, and satisfy the boy enough so he would leave him. Or better yet, get bored. It was worth a shot…

With a new outlook on the situation, Gohan reached over with an unsteady hand and stroked the boy’s curly golden hair. The gesture made the kid jump and blush, but gave him a look of happiness and confusion. “I uh… I didn’t mean to snap at you like that…Work is just piling up since it is almost the end of the year and I’m just a little stressed…” He mumbled with his face completely red, losing his words. Voorhees grabbed his hand and gave it a kiss, then nuzzled it with his tanned cheeks.

“It’s ok Mr. Gohan. I understand. If you need to vent out your frustrations, then go right ahead. And…” He kissed his hand again, and started to move his kisses up his arm slowly, “if you need to find a release to all of your stress…” Voorhees moved in his seat to be closer to Gohan, kissing his arm and then his cheek, “You know I would have no problem at all to bring you that release…” He purred, letting his eyelids go heavy with a seductive gaze.

Gohan swallowed back his pride, knowing that his brain was screaming at him to push the boy away. But he would not allow himself to fight this battle anymore. And who knew? He might even enjoy himself. Gohan pulled up to his home, turning the car off in the driveway and looking at Voorhees. His gaze was intense, and it made the Australian teen squirm in his seat in anticipation. “Well, then if it will make you happy, then I believe you should help me rid me of my stress from today.” Gohan was shocked at his own words. They came out just so smooth and calm, as if he spoke in sexual innuendos all the time.

Voorhees nodded happily and jumped into his embrace, inhaling his scent instantly. His body shook in arousal and with a few nerves. Gohan had never acted this way to him, and as much as he could get off to the verbal abuse, Voorhees liked this side of his teacher more and more. He felt as though he were talking to his lover, not his bedmate. He held his teacher’s cheeks and pressed his lips to the man’s moaning and deepening the kiss instantly. He was even more surprised to find that Gohan was kissing him back, their tongues twining together, sending electric shocks up his spine. The teen pulled away to stare at his teacher, the man’s cheeks red but not in embarrassment like usual. Gohan’s eyes were slightly glazed and he felt hot to the touch. Voorhees knew that look all to well; Mr. Gohan was aroused.

The teen instantly slid down Gohan’s chest to rub his face in his teacher’s crotch. He felt the member begin to grow hard, and it made him painfully hard as well. “Oh Mr. Gohan…” Voorhees moaned and began to grope the bulge in Gohan’s pants, watching as the man let his head fall back and open his mouth in a pleasurable sigh. He stroked his teacher’s growing hard-on through his pants, keeping his eyes on the Saiyan’s face the entire time. Feeling that Gohan’s hips were starting to move up and down, a sign of wanting, Voorhees found a zipper and pulled down, a hard cock popping out of the hole.

With skill that he had gained over the past year, he swallowed Gohan whole, sucking on the appendage quite noisily. Above him, Gohan gave a gasp of surprise, his thick fingers grabbing locks of the students golden-brown hair. With skill that he had gained over the past year, he swallowed Gohan whole, sucking on the appendage quite noisily. Above him, Gohan gave a gasp of surprise, his thick fingers grabbing locks of the student's golden-brown hair. "Nnnn…" The Saiyan man bit his lower lip, bucking his hips up and down, choking the Australian teenager. Voorhees bobbed his head on his teacher's cock, letting it slide down his throat to block his breathing. Saliva fell from his mouth all over the dick and down his chin, moaning and massaging his large sack. Gohan began to pant and moan, moving the teen's head up and down in a rhythm that was bringing him to his peak.

The Saiyan man sucked in air through his teeth, giving a loud moan as his thrust his hips up, his cock going down Voorhees's throat. The teen gagged, but his head was held in place, Gohan's essence shooting down his throat. The teacher bucked his hips a few more times and then let Voorhees go, resting his head against the headboard of his car seat, panting. When the spots in his vision started to disappear, he looked around to find Voorhees sitting on his lap, hugging him with a large smile. The man gave a smile himself, running his fingers through the locks of his student's hair.

Oh yes… Gohan would definitely enjoy himself.

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

-Goten's POV-

April 16

I'm feeling antsy. Antsy, like the little bugs that crawl on the ground. The ground is wet and muddy. It only happens when it rains. Rain comes from the sky. The sky resembles a black lit canopy with holes punched in it. Holes, like the ones in my face that I see in the mirror. A mirror that reveals the horror that I am. A monster. A beast. Why hello there, Beastie. Are you as terrified to reveal the real you to the world like I am? No one would love you. No one but me. I love you. We are both monsters that have to pretend to be normal. No one would accept us for who we really are.
Who are we? Who am I? I am Goten. I am Eros. I am Ommato. I am war, I am pain. I suffer alone and terrified. Waiting for someone to help. But it wont come. Mmm.. I like to cum. All over my lover and myself. Me, myself, and I.
My doctor tells me that she is worried. My writing is starting to get scrambled. My speaking tends to confuse. She calls it a "word salad." I like salad. It has lots of lettuce and stuff. Lettuce is green and leafy. Like leaves from a tree. Trees are massive and ancient. My mother is ancient history, and it makes me smirk. Dr. Simoko says that speaking in a "word salad" is not a good thing. It means that my illness is getting worse as time goes on. She says that Dillon is not a good influence. I think she wants to get him out of my life. I think she wants him dead. I wont let that happen. She is out to get me, just like everyone else. I can't trust anyone. NO ONE BUT ME, MYSELF, AND I! I will kill her. I will kill and eat them all.

The first to go… Trunks.

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

It was almost one in the morning by the time the blue-eyed beauty got home. He closed the door behind him and walked up the carpeted stairs that led to the main area of the apartment. All of the lights were off except for the TV that was blaring blue and white across the walls with a terrible late night show. As he came around the corner and into the living room, his father was sitting on the couch with a cigarette between his fingers and a beer on the coffee table.
"You're home late." He murmured, inhaling the smoke into his lungs and blowing it out, eyeing the teen that put his hobo bag down.

Raven didn't speak as he untied the apron around his waste, untucking his black shirt out of his pants. He grabbed his black pouch that held his money, mass amount of pens, and his book where he wrote stuff down. On the separate leather chair, he sat down and pulled his hair out of his small ponytail, his black silk falling down to shape around his face. "I got the last table unfortunately. At least they tipped me really good." He pulled out his big wad of money that he had made and began to count, his father eyeing him curiously.

The teen had made about $200 and he couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. Luckily the restaurant he had been working at for 2 years now was kept constantly busy with snooty rich people and important business men. All who knew how to tip for great service and hard work. Raven had been working in the fine dining place since he turned 15, starting off as a dishwasher and working his way up to being the youngest server the company had, being that he went above and beyond in everything he did. It was how he could easily come home with $200 on a weeknight. That and the fact that a steak cost a guest at least $50 a pop.

"Hn. Business is booming." His father remarked and finished off his beer, tossing the bottle on the carpeted floor with no care. Raven gave an agitated sigh, considering he had just cleaned the carpets last night. Before he could say something to his distant father, his phone began to ring, making the father-son twins perk up. Raven reached for his phone to see that it was Voorhees who was calling him.

"H-hello?" he answered uneasily, finding it odd for someone to be calling him this late. The bubbly Australian teen chatted his ear off, begging for the kid to leave and come out with him to cause some trouble with the others. Raven hesitated, only making the feminine boy whine and beg some more. He felt his father's eyes on him and felt nervous, excusing himself to his room without a word. Now this… definitely got his father's curiosity.

//Ohh come on baby. We should hang out and go skinny dipping and make out a little bit! Oh oh then we can steal a tractor and race down the highway! // Voorhees's voice rang out through the phone, making Raven laugh at his fast-paced words. Suddenly there was some fumbling around and a yell of displease, then a deeper, Italian accented voice presented itself. Dillon apologized for Voorhees's behavior, telling him that he decided to bring along his "special herbs" from Australia on their midnight excursions.

//Although… you should come out with us…// Raven almost began to swoon as Dillon spoke to him. //We plan on vandalizing a ton of shit and—Voorhees really? That is my ass, c'mon now!// There was more muffled sounds and shouts back and forth, but Raven couldn't help but feel himself yawn in sheer exhaustion from work. "Dillon I uh… I can't. Not tonight. I am really tired… but I will definitely hang out tomorrow, ok?" Raven laughed slightly and said his goodbyes.

As he placed the phone down, he had a sudden awful feeling in his gut about the situation. Something inside him had told him he had made the right decision in skipping out on the adventure. To be completely honest, he was utterly terrified of Goten. His father had told him all the stories in the past about Goten's father, Goku. Goku was one of the most powerful men in the universe and when angered, he was lethal. Like most Saiyans were, earth-born or not. Then, Raven had heard the small talk between Dillon and Voorhees about Goten's "illness" and how it wasn't getting better. Raven didn't want to be around when the Saiyan just snapped and went nuts. And tonight definitely felt like one of those nights to the hybrid android, heeding his father Android 17's warnings about a psycho Saiyan.

Raven would have had no idea how right he was about this particular night.

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

Something didn't seem right with Goten tonight… Dillon could sense it in the air. As the close-knit group ventured out around in the streets of the city, causing all sorts of teenage mischief –something Dillon had never done till now- Goten was starting to get agitated and twitchy. It hardly went unnoticed by the protective lover when Goten started cocking his head up slightly, as if he were listening to something being told in his ear. And yet, no one was around him to do such a thing.

The night went on and Dillon noticed that Goten was getting more and more… worse. As they were walking in the back alleys of the city, Voorhees baked out of his mind to care, Goten had started mumbling to himself and pulling on his hair. "Bella… what's wrong?" Dillon asked quietly, placing an arm around the fidgeting Saiyan. Goten started talking quietly, making the Italian heir lean in closer to hear the words spill.

"It-it-it-it-it's not right. Right is the opposite of l-left. I left my light on in my room and I am going to be punished for it. Punishment helps to stop me from being bad. Trunks is b-b-bad and he wants me dead. Sometimes I want to be d-dead because I will be in peace. There is no peace in this world. The world is at and end and I am the reason!" Goten sputtered out the ever famous word salad that had taken over his cognitive learning, his mind making his words jumble around. It was a nasty side effect of his deteriorating brain from the schizophrenia, and it pulled at Dillon's heart.

"Bella sssshhhh… it's ok. The world is not going to end." Dillon stopped Goten from walking, pushing him against an alley wall lightly to stare him in the face. He watched as Goten's face twitched and became distorted as he fought against the voices in his head. Voorhees turned around, puffing on the Australian weed and giggling, telling Goten that he was being silly. "Not now, Voorhees!" Dillon barked, making the golden teen laugh again.

Goten was starting to get irritated with Voorhees, growling at the teen's voice and fast movements. Just like in the hospital during the attack against him and the Australian a while ago, Dillon could see it happening. He grabbed Goten's arm, hoping to keep him in his place and be distracted in pouncing on Voorhees. But Goten was strong, and he started to pull towards the stumbling and giggling golden teenager. His eyes had set into determination and were in slits, the shadows of the night giving him a frightening look. Dillon had faced death, abuse, and danger his entire life, but even Goten's demeanor gave him a shiver of fear.

His immense strength dragged Dillon with him as he lunged for Voorhees in an attempt to attack him, whining and snarling. Dillon fell to his knees as Goten pounced on Voorhees, the Italian man screaming at Voorhees to get out of the way. He watched as Voorhees turned to see Goten lunging for him, knowing all to well that it was too late. As if it were in slow motion, Voorhees fell to the floor, his neck in Goten's mouth. The Saiyan boy shook him like a dog does to a rag, blood splotching the ground and splattering Dillon's face. The heir to the Santinni fortune stood and drew out his revolver that he kept with him always, shooting it off in the air to scare Goten. The boom made Goten shriek and jump off Voorhees, bailing out of there down the alley.

"Goten NO!" Dillon watched as Goten ran like a maniac down the streets. He stood and started after him, but stopped to look at Voorhees. The teen was moaning in pain, bleeding from the back of his neck. Dillon was torn between chasing after his deranged lover, and helping his bleeding friend. He gave a growl and ran after Goten, listening to the psychotic screams. He loved Voorhees, he truly did, but Goten was his life. If anything were to happen to him, he wouldn't be able to survive it.

Coming around the corner, he found Goten standing in the middle of the street, looking right up at the sky. Dillon ran up to him, cautious of touching him because of how bad Goten's episode was. He followed Goten's gaze up to see a big, bright full moon the color of a pearl. Memories of a conversation Goten once had with him about his species and the moon came to mind, and it all made sense as to why the Saiyan had snapped the way he did. 'He must have looked at the moon back there…' Dillon thought and nodded to himself, creeping up close to his lover. Clouds were forming over head in a rainstorm, and Dillon hoped that it would affect Goten positively.

"Mio Bella…" He cooed, reaching out to stroke his fingers over Goten's arm. Goten didn't flinch, but seemed to relax at the touch. "It's going to be ok…" He stepped forward, putting his arm around the twitching body, nuzzling Goten's neck lovingly. Goten continued to stare up at the sky, his eyes filling up with tears. Dillon felt his heart begin to pull again, wanting nothing more than to end Goten's pain. He took the risk of putting both arms around Goten, letting the shivering teen lean into his chest. He was mumbling incoherently, spouting out words that didn't make sense.

It started to rain, thunder booming above them. The two stood there and held each other, Goten still locked in his psychosis. He clawed at Dillon's back as waves of insanity hit his mind, giving out moans and cries. What could be understood were Goten's pleas to die, begging for salvation and freedom from his illness. Dillon groaned in the discomfort of Goten's nails tearing at his skin, but he held strong, afraid to let go.
He knew it was never going to end.

Goten was never going to get better.

He was only going to get worse and there was nothing Dillon could do.

Nothing.

TBC.