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Domination	By : Simoko Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2705 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own DB/Z/GT or any of the characters involved. I am not making a profit for this.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
FINALLY have out another chapter! I know I promised by the end of the year (2010) to have a chapter out, but... looks like I lied. I hope that this chapter makes up for the wait. It is full of juicy events and jaw-droppers. I do want everyone out there to know that I will now be taking a hiatus from writing for a while. I hope that everyone understands! I hope that by the end of it all, I will be motivated and inspired and ecstatic to write. Right now, I'm just all written out. By the way, all facts below about medication and depression treatment is real. I've done my research. So without further ado, enjoy!

Warning(s): Drug use, homo AND hetero sex, molestation, rape, murder, graphic imagery.

Disclaimer: I do not own DB/Z/GT. But all other OC's belong to me. Do not take them without permission! The song "Stella Cometa" is owned by Lorenzo Jovanotti (might I suggest looking it up on youtube!).

Domination Chapter 16: No Mercy, No Remorse, No Matter What

Notes from Dr. Simoko Chan

Schizophrenia is a crippling and debilitating mental illness, and the most mentally destructive known to man. Like a nasty bacterial disease, it can spread throughout the entire body, rendering its victim completely helpless, showing no mercy as it disintegrates the mind slowly over time. Though common, it is rare to have and there are no truly known causes on how to "get" the illness. Many can argue that it is passed on through "bad genes" from family members, or that something extremely traumatic can awaken the "monster" inside of a person. One can even argue that it can simply be caused from head trauma or doing dope; for all anyone knows, it may just be something inside us all that lies dormant in our minds until something –or someone- triggers it.

There is also no set timeline for when the illness "pops up" in a person, just that it can happen between the ages of adolescence and midlife. It cannot truly be diagnosed either, for there is nothing that money can buy that would show physical proof of it. As George Harrison from the Beatles once said, "It's all in the mind."

So how can someone be so bold as to diagnose someone with a serious and life-threatening illness like Schizophrenia? The problem is, is that you can't. All psychiatrists follow the same guidelines to be able to decipher such a thing. Is the patient hearing voices? Does he/she see things that we do not? Is his/her reality warped in the head? If any doctor happens to answer yes to any of the previous questions, Schizophrenia is the best lead that they have; and usually diagnose.

Treatment is not easy; nor is there any cure for the illness. All that can be done is to give the patient a large amount of anti-psychotics (for the hallucinations), anti-depressants (for the depression), anti-anxieties (for the stress and anxious feelings), and a "safe and calm" environment to live in. Therapy works; sometimes- if you have the money for it. All in all, once a patient gains Schizophrenia, they are trapped in its clutches for the rest of their lives.

Medication is ABSOLUTELY crucial. It is the only thing that balances a patient and keeps their mentality in check. Without it, a patient is as good as dead—mostly from killing themselves.

Schizophrenia doesn't care who you are, what you do, how much money you have, or what family you come from. It doesn't care if you work out all the time and eat right, or if you changed everything in your home to "go green" for the environment and the better living space for your family. Rich, poor, fat, skinny, old, young, black, white, domestic, foreign—once it claims you, there is no escape.

But the important thing to do is to not give up. Continue to fight against it, continue to be stronger than it, continue to take medication, and continue to seek help and treatment. Once you give up, you lose the battle completely. The moment you stop fighting, you will be lost forever. You cannot just pick yourself back up and try again. You only get one shot to stay on the right track, but when that is blown, it's game over.

Failure is not an option.

Goten's POV

It's been so long since I've been in this depressed state. I haven't left my room. I haven't touched my shower. I rarely eat, unable to find the motivation to continue nourishing my body. My psychiatrist continues to visit and tries to get me to leave my bed and push past the severe schizophrenic depression I was in. Why does everyone automatically assume that my actions are caused from my illness? Can't I just mourn in my own way without people questioning the motive or cause behind it?

Days bled into weeks and before I knew it, it had been nearly 2 months since Zoomie died. I don't even remember getting transported to the psych ward of Capsule Corporation's small hospital, lying on a small twin-sized mattress 22 hours out of the day. I wasted almost all of my entire summer in my bed, heavily doped up on anti-psychotics like Zyprexa, Clozaril, and Seroquel, also on some anti-depressants such as Prozac, Zoloft, and Paxil. At this rate, I would not be returning to school. Any visitors were a blur from all of the drugs, Dillon being the only person to stand out the most, Dillon being the one that came to see me every single day. Dillon; my savior.

"Goten…?"

Something was happening. I opened my eyes to the bright fluorescent lights of my padded room, blinking several times to make out the figures that hovered over me; Dillon, Raven, Gohan, my father, Vegeta, Dr. Simoko, a man in a suit, some nurses and a few more doctors. My lover ran his hands through my matted, tangled hair, bringing out a small purr from my chest.

"Goten…" It was Dr. Simoko who was speaking. I was only able to make out a few of her sentences. "We have reached a decision to get you out of this depressed state… our last ditch effort…. Electroconvulsive Shock Therapy… it's the only way to pull you back to reality…"

I was pulled by Dillon to sit up in the bed, my body weak and thin from malnutrition. I could feel my ribs against my arm when I set them beside of me, leaning against my Italian lover. I wouldn't dare look into a mirror even if my life depended on it, absolutely refusing to see what I had made myself become. The man in the suit, apparently an attorney, rattled off some legal nonsense about how my being a minor meant I could not refuse the treatment and blah, blah, blah….

Dillon was in front of me, holding my face, trying to talk to me. All of the drugs in my system causing me to zone in an out, hearing only a few words here and there. My head lulled up and down, trying my best to stay awake and not fall back into another nightmare-filled sleep. Then there were more movements, finding myself being forced to walk with the group of doctors and nurses down a hall and into a large, bright white room, zoning out into another blurry haze.

I suddenly came to again, seeing that I had been strapped down at the wrists, ankles, chest and head to a table with a bite-plate in my mouth. There were 2 electrodes connected to the side of my head while my dick had something around it. I panicked but was unable to fight due to the drugs in my system. My glazed eyes looked around and saw a window where my family and friends were staring at me. Dillon was pissed and stressed, never tearing his eyes away from me. Then, a doctor blocked my view as he looked down at me with a syringe in hand.

A minor stab of pain into my arm and a rush of anesthetic were all that I experienced before suddenly blacking out.

Normal POV

Everyone in the viewing room sat and stared, their faces showing extreme distress, awe, or slight regret as the young Saiyan teenager convulsed and seized on the table from the electroshock therapy. The seizure-inducing shocks were administered to Goten nearly 20 times, each process only lasting 15 seconds long; although to everyone else it felt like an eternity.

Dillon glared as he rested his arm against the glass, closing his eyes each time they shocked his lover. He was enraged, his body practically shaking from the anger he felt, finding it extremely hard to contain himself. Raven stood next to him, finding himself more and more emotional with each shock to his friend, tears in his eyes by the 11th hit. He held onto Dillon's arm for support, hiding his face in the Italian's muscles, hating the decision of all the doctors.

Vegeta watched in complete disbelief at what they were doing to the Saiyan, never ever seeing something like this in all his life. He looked over at Goku, seeing that the man couldn't watch, his back turned with his face buried in his hands. The doctors had said that ECT was always a last ditch effort in helping severely depressed persons, the shocks supposedly "resetting" the brain to bring back the patient to a happier state. It was an extremely controversial treatment, one that Goku had practically died from when signing the papers for his son's treatment at the reassurance of Dr. Simoko. At thinking of her, Vegeta locked his eyes on her, scowling at her hand on his lover's shoulder. Whether he loved the man or not, the 3rd class Saiyan was still HIS.

Gohan was a mess, fighting desperately not to cry out and break the glass to save his brother from what looked like a method of torture. He knew that Goten couldn't feel anything because of the anesthetic, but the shocks looked terrifyingly painful. He knew that his father was very desperate to get the old Goten back, but ECT seemed too extreme and too dangerous. The shock therapy would have to be administered 3-5 times a week for a couple months to dissolve depression, but it wasn't a cure. There was no true guarantee that Goten would be better, and there was a high probability that memory loss could occur. On top of his emotional battle he was having with his severely depressed brother, he hadn't seen or heard from his student lover since he dropped him off at his home 2 months ago. He never returned phone calls, emails, letters, visits, nothing. He learned that the boy no longer lived at his home, and Gohan couldn't find him anywhere. The Saiyan was beginning to fear the worst.

Only 10 minutes had passed when it was all over. The nurses started removing the restraints, the bite plate, the device around Goten's penis, and the electrodes. All of the lights came back on and medication was put into Goten that would help him to wake up in just a few moments. The Saiyan was placed onto a stretcher and then wheeled back to his room in the small, rarely-used CC psych ward, his friends and family following close behind.

Goten's POV

I awoke feeling confused, jittery, and with a pounding headache. A hand was clasped around mine, sensing already that it was Dillon's. Any druggy haze that I had been in earlier had dissipated and mentally I felt so much better. Without the anti-psychotics in my system, normally I would hallucinate instantly, but my mind was clear. I felt… calm.

When I sat up in bed, Dillon instantly had his arms around me, shaking, and I could feel the anger and helplessness in him. He blubbered out in Italian about fighting against the decision made for my depression treatment and how he was so so sorry for letting them do that to me.

"Do what?" I asked, quite confused at what he was saying.

He finally looked up at me with red eyes and sniffles a little. Had he been crying? "You don't have any idea what they did…?" He asked me, completely baffled.

I shook my head no. The heavy dosage of antipsychotics that are always in me, much more than any human could withstand, always made me like a zombie with the memory of a wet rag. He sighed and kissed my lips; I instantly felt a spark between us again.

Before I could give him a kiss back, he went off on this tangent about my 3 month treatment with shock therapy to pull me out of my depression and how completely against it he was, mostly because he had been through it as well. I was shocked to learn that my father had signed for the therapy to zap my brain 3-5 times a week –depending on how much it was needed- for 3 months. I didn't know how to react to it all. What scared me was what Dillon told me next. The ECT would be just like my drugs; I would feel better for a short time and fall right back into my depression and continue to waste away in a hospital bed.

"Bella… we can't let that happen again…. You have to WANT to get better. The therapy is only 3 months long. We can work every day to help you not need it as soon as it's done… that's what I did when I had ECT back in Italy. This is a great window of opportunity!" He took my hands in his and kissed my knuckles, looking hopeful at me.

I saw his desperation, his undying love for me, the pain I had caused him over my reaction to Zoomie's death, his whole demeanor screaming at me to want to get better; to want to love and make love again; to want to further our future together and finally run away to Italy; to want to work at his side for all eternity; to want to rule over any city we live in; to want to get married on a cliff in Fiji like we had talked about; to want to have children together; to want to laugh and smile and hold each other; to want to go back to how things used to be… It was all up to me now.

Did I want that?

Did I…?

Fuck yes I did.

I tore at Dillon's clothes as he shoved me against a bookcase, classic literature falling to the floor at how rough we were being. His raging cock was pushing against my stomach, mine straining against his leg. I sunk my teeth into his shoulder, tearing at his flesh in a savage love bite as he forced me to wrap my legs around him.

With all of those psychopharmaceutical antipsychotics out of my system, not a single drug in my blood stream, I was fuckin' BACK, baby.

As soon as I got well enough to leave the psych ward of CC and be back home with Dillon, we wasted no time in making up for all that we lost. He shoved into me without any form of lubrication, ripping an icy pain up my spine but I fucking loved it. It had been 2 months since I had felt pleasure, stuck in a terrible Anhedonian state, refusing sex to my lover. But now, it was all different. I screamed and growled as he fucked me against the bookcase, wanting him to take me raw, there being a very thin line between pain and pleasure; and I loved dancing on it.

God, how I missed this. What the fuck was I thinking earlier?

The pain became pleasure as blood started lubricating the rough sex we were having. Moving from the bookcase, he turned me around and slammed me stomach first onto the coffee table, grabbing a fistful of my hair and yanking my head back. I let out a cry of pleasure and pain as he pounded into me from behind. I clawed at the wood on the coffee table, ripping up chunks of it under my fingernails, screaming his name.

Never again will I take all that medication.

"FUCK!" My orgasm came fast and hard, tears springing to my eyes as stars danced all around my head. Dillon soon followed right behind me, filling me up with his hot cum. We collapsed, shaking and breathless, my lover holding onto me as if he were afraid to fall off the face of the earth; that or to let me slip away again. I felt his lips on my neck and back, showering me with kisses and still embracing me.

I refuse to lose this again.

My sanity be damned. My father be damned. My family and friends be damned. Fuck them all. I don't know what I was thinking in the past about giving up all hope since Zoomie was gone. It had to of been my illness. That is the only reason I can think of for such a dramatic reaction to his death.

When we retired to Dillon's bedroom, we held each other all night long, kissing and hugging and nuzzling. I stayed cured up against his chest with his arms around me, finally purring loud and long. No words were said, simply reconnecting with one another through physical touch and proximity. He sung a soft Italian song to me, his voice lulling me to sleep:

"Penso a te prima di dormire

guardando il sole che fa spazio all'imbrunire

in questa terra lontana da casa

lontana da te che sei la mia casa

ovunque tu sia tu sei l'anima mia

sei un campo di malinconia

quando non sono da te sei un campo di frutti dolcissimi

quando sei qui con me contadino del cuore

la mia gioia mi costa sudore

io ti amo e fuggo lontano la misura di quanto ti amo è il pianeta

di ogni viaggio lontano da te sei la meta

io re magio tu stella cometa... "

I whispered to him, "I love you," before finally passing out in his arms. I was so happy to be back.

Raven's POV

I didn't make it home from work until midnight, completely drained from the past few weeks. I still cannot get the image of Goten's ECT out my head, the constant seizures his body went thru during the process burned into my mind forever. How can someone do such a thing to a person? It was haunting to watch. I hope that I never have to go through that.

I was relieved that they finally released him back to Dillon the next day. He looked like a new person and was back to his old self. While researching, I learned that just one session of ECT doesn't change a person, but it was odd to see Goten back in good health. Maybe it was the Saiyan in him; maybe his alien brain just needed a jolt. Whatever it was, I felt a red flag go up the moment he was "back to normal" and released again.

As quiet as I could possibly be, I made it up my nasty carpeted stairs to the apartment that I shared with my father and the runaway. At the top of the stairs, I looked to see the vertical blinds were closed, the TV was on mute, the kitchen light was on, and the rest of the small apartment was dark. "Dad?" I called out, stepping over the beer bottles and used cigarettes that stained the carpet. Going down the small hallway, I peeked into his room to see him passed out on the bed with his TV blaring. Rolling my eyes, I waved it off and went to the door next to me, opening it up to see Voorhees sitting by my window with the blanket wrapped around himself, smoking a blunt.

"Hey, hooker." I greeted him, taking off my server apron and tie, instantly going to my dresser and stashing all the money I had earned away. Voorhees said nothing to me, just watching me undress and get into a pair of boxer shorts and a hoodie. "What did you do today?" I plopped next to him and stole his blunt, taking a nice long drag on it to calm my nerves.

"Your dad made a move on me." He faked a laugh and then frowned again, snatching back his weed.

"Oh shut up. Seriously. What'd you do?" I yawned and stretched, lying back on the bed.

He sighed and turned, laying on top of me with the covers over us. I watched his golden eyes look at me, enjoying his hand in my hair, sniffing the smoke that he blew out from his blunt, smirking as I felt something between his legs press against my thigh. "I thought about you all day and masturbated." He leaned down and kissed my neck, his breath hot from the weed and I finally smelt a hint of alcohol, his hands going down my body. I moaned a little, closing my eyes and blushing. As wild as he was, I knew he was most likely telling the truth about what he did today.

After a few moments, my boxers were down to my knees while he was between my legs and working some wonderful magic with his mouth. I bit my lower lip and dug my fingers into the sheets, gasping and whimpering when he twirled his tongue or tightened his throat. My cheeks burned as I bucked my hips up to slide my cock down his throat even deeper. It didn't take long before I squirted my seed into his mouth, arching my back and giving a short but loud shout from my orgasm. I was left panting and a little bit sweaty, feeling him crawl back up and kiss me.

After a few sloppy kisses, he rested on top of me and we kept quiet. The Australian teen had calmed down his wild and out of control ways the moment he came to me one night a couple months back- crying and soaked with rain, shivering and begging for a place to stay. His parents learned he was gay and had kicked him out before, but the kid had tried to go back and was met with a shot gun. He had been beaten and shot at by his father, the cold man screaming for him to never come back. I invited him in, he cried his eyes out, and he has been with us ever since. My father didn't like the idea of a stranger living with us, but I offered to pay 75 percent of the rent if Voorhees could stay; he didn't object to that.

"Tell me a story, Raven…"

"I don't know any stories, Voorhees." I scoffed, rolling my eyes like my father.

He was quiet for a few more minutes, speaking up again. "Then tell me something about yourself no one knows."

I sighed. Something that no one knew? There was truly only one thing that fit that category: "I'm part android."

That got his attention rather quickly, our eyes locking. "I've… always had a hunch that there was… something different about you… like Goten but….. not….. I don't know…." He shrugged, but still looking at me, those gorgeous eyes full of questions and curiosity.

"No, you're right. I am different like Goten… but I'm not a Saiyan. My father created me a little over 12 years ago. I don't really know the details, but I know he kidnapped a little 5 year-old-boy 15 years back and worked on him to make me. He gave him artificial eyes, his own hair, his same functions in his body, his same powers, abilities… but he added a function to me unlike himself or his sister; growth. He wanted to start young on purpose. To raise me to be "the perfect killing machine"…. Something he had been programmed for, but never achieved and can never achieve now.

"What he didn't expect from creating a 5-year-old little boy was that he was going to end up with just that; a 5-year-old little boy. I wasn't what he wanted. I had no interest in learning to kill people; all I wanted to do was catch butterflies, draw, play and cling to him. I don't think I ever once heard him say he loved me… It used to hurt me a lot…. And…. I guess it still does… I don't think I've ever been told that…" I huffed, coughing away any tears or sad emotions in myself.

"….. Well… I love you, mate…."

My heart leapt and I stared at him, swearing my face was on fire from a red blush. "W-what?"

He smiled at me, the first I had seen on him in a long time. "Ya heard me… I love you, mate… how could I not..? You've done so much for me. You took me in, you feed me, you care for me, you make love to me, you treat me… better than anyone ever has. And… I love you for it all…" He ran his fingers through my silky black hair. "Even if you are a scary robot." Then he smirked. "HEY! If you're part robot… does that mean you can… you know….. turn your cock into a vibrator?" That smirk widened.

There was the horny Australian slut I knew.

And loved.

Goku's POV

I was messed up, roughed up, sexed up, then tossed up and away. I looked up at my emotionally and mentally abusive lover, lying on the bed naked, sweaty, a little bloody, and tears in my eyes. He is sitting next to me with his usual scowl on his face, refusing to look me in the eye, shaking in rage. I've told him that I wasn't in love with him anymore. I was in love with someone else; a beautiful blonde who was intelligent, strong, fiery and successful… The moment he realized it was Goten's psychiatrist that was the object of my affections, he lost it. Instead of fighting against his attacks, I simply sat back and took it. After all, I deserved it.

He beat me and forced me to have sex with him, fucking me until I came—just to prove a point.

All I could do was apologize at this point. I reached out to him, just wanting to touch him and let him see just how sorry I was but he smacked my hand away and stood up, putting his clothes on. "Vegeta…. Please… you have to understand…" I whimpered and attempted to lift up.

"UNDERSTAND WHAT, KAKAROT?" He turned around and screamed at me. I winced at his voice, feeling guilty and shameful. "That you're leaving me for a woman completely out of your league that doesn't love you back! Who has NO idea of your feelings, NOR will she care!" He grabbed my hair and screamed in my face. "She won't love you. She will NEVER love you. I am the only one who can, and you're going to throw that away for a shrink!"

"I… have to take a chance…"

"The only reason she puts up with you in the first place is because you have a fucked up son!" Ouch… that one hurt me… "Trust me, if you moved on with another doctor for him or stopped seeing her all together, you would never hear from her again!" He was livid. His eyes were full of hate, anger, and… pain? "Craziness must truly run in your family!"

With that, I snapped. Regaining my Saiyan composure, I suddenly knocked Vegeta down with a strong push of my arm, growling at him. No more Mr. Nice Guy. No more pushing Son Goku around. When he tried to stand up, I kicked him back down and growled at him, then placed my foot on his chest. He was shocked to see that the tables had turned and that I was no longer going to stand for the 3 years of abuse he had slowly put me under. Enough was enough.

"I can't do this anymore, Vegeta! I can't continue to be treated like the dirt under your boots! I love you, but I refuse continue a relationship with you. I just… my heart can't take it. I already have so much bullshit to deal with in my life; I don't need you to add to it!" I wasn't crying anymore—I was just done. As I put on my clothes, I could feel how hot my face was, how my head hurt from all of my negative emotions, how my jaw felt when I grit my teeth together. And Vegeta, he just sat there gawking at me. "If you really loved me, you wouldn't degrade me and kick me when I'm down. You wouldn't make fun of how truly sick my son is and put all of the blame on me. I'm aware that I have fault in his illness; but you don't have to constantly remind me! I need someone who will support me, and love me, and hold me, and tell me that everything is going to work out. And I realize… that's not you. And that will never be you. I'm sorry, but I have a real chance at love with someone who can give me all of that, and I am NOT going to let you stand in my way."

I took a deep breath and turned away. Holding my head high, I walked out of the room without giving Vegeta a chance to rebuttal, acting as though I was walking on air with a confidence in me that no one could tear down. I was finally out of yet another abusive relationship and swore to myself I would never subject myself to it again.

As I left the house behind me, I also left my confidence, the realization of what just happened hitting me. Hot tears stung my eyes from all of my confusion and pain, a large part of me wanting to go right back to my Prince but a smaller half telling me to keep moving. Everything blurred around me as I kept moving, my thoughts constantly on Vegeta and all of the shit I had gone through with him, I had hardly noticed that I wound up in front of her door at her spectacular home.

It opened and she stood in front of me in a sexy white dress and high-heels, as if she knew I was on my way. She had to know how much pain I was in because she instantly took me in her arms and brought me inside. It felt wonderful to have her amazing body against mine, her wild blonde hair in my face, my hands on her curves. It felt even more wonderful to feel her pressed up against the wall, her large breasts pushed up on my chest, her slender legs around my waist, her fingers digging into my scalp to make me purr…

I wanted her so bad that my body ached.

And throbbed.

A few hand-fumbling moments later, she gasped loudly in my ear and I gave a high-pitched growl from a mind-blowing tight, wet heat. I kept her against the wall and we moved together, listening to her shout and moan my name, gripping my sweaty back. I kept my face in her sexy neck, biting her a little and panting, feeling something build in my whole being, feeling a peak about to hit me. "S-Simoko!" I cried out her name in her neck and threw my head back, letting out pure bliss into her feisty body. I gasped when she pulled my hair and said my name, feeling her spasm in a strong climax, the experience of an orgasming woman brand new to me because of my ex-wife's "lack of enthusiasm."

I knew then and there that yes, I was very much in love with her.

After catching our breaths, she wasted no time in taking my hand and leading me through the house and into her extravagant bedroom, shutting the door behind us and pushing me onto the bed where we would stay for the rest of the night.

Hours passed and I awoke to find the once warm figure that slept in my arms now sitting on the edge of the bed with her silk sheets covering the front of her gorgeous body. Her golden hair was messy and cascaded down her curvy back, marks of love from my eager self on her skin. Her room was dark but some morning light spilled in from her soft curtains. She let out a sigh and I lifted up, reaching over to touch her smooth shoulder. "Good morning…" I purred and kissed her neck shyly.

"I can't do this, Goku."

Definitely not what I was expecting. "W-What…?" I could feel my heart sink.

"Goku… I can't be involved with my patient's father. It's not ethical." She wouldn't look at me and I felt as if I were suffocating, hearing her want to drop me like I did to Vegeta.

"Did… I do something wrong? Please Simoko… " I sat with her and held her chin to look at her angelic face with those sharp green eyes, "I can't stop thinking about you…."

"So you're asking me to stop treating your desperately ill son, just so you can test the waters of a new relationship with someone you're obsessed with?"

I pulled away from her, her quick response catching me off guard from her cold cut words. "I don't understand, Simoko… I thought that… you felt the same way…. Especially after last night and-"

"Last night was a mistake." She sighed and stood up, wrapping her sheets around her body.

My heart ached, never expecting such rejection from someone; let alone her. She turned and I saw the confliction on her pretty face, trying to decide what to do and what to say to me. I kept myself together, but it hurt so much. Vegeta was right. He was right all along. "I… I'm sorry…. I've made a terrible mistake then….. I should…" I looked around for my clothes, finding it hard to hide the pain in my voice, "I should go…."

I reached over the side of the bed and grabbed my boxers in a hurried rush, hopping out of the bed to find the rest of my missing clothes. 'I don't know what I'm going to do now. I shouldn't have left Vegeta; I should have listened to him. Oh God I'm such an idiot.' Stumbling around Simoko's room, I couldn't stop thinking about my awful judgment. So much so that I didn't even realize Simoko had gone in front of me and had her hands on my chest.

"Goku please… don't take this the wrong way. I'm sorry." She took my face in her hands and pressed our lips together, kissing me deeply, catching me off guard once again. I didn't know how to respond, even though I knew part of me wanted to put my arms around her and hold her forever. When she pulled away from the kiss, our eyes locked and I could see she was near the point of crying. "Do you realize what you're asking of me, Goku…? I have to make a choice between you or saving your son from his horrible illness. If I pursue a relationship, whether it be sexual or not, I have to give up the care of Goten to someone else… No one knows him like I do, and no one can give him the best treatment like I can. You think I don't care about you like you do for me? I DO, I just…. When having to make a choice like that, I cannot fail my patient. I choose saving Goten… As his father, you need to do the same."

I stood there, staring into her eyes, finding myself exhausted from the rollercoaster of emotions I was riding on. I found myself wanting to snatch one of Goten's benzodiazepines to relieve my anxiety and simply sedate me so I could sleep for days on end. Yet through the fog, I could find logic in what Simoko was saying. I could either: put myself forward and be in the best relationship I could ever imagine, or I could continue to fight to save my son from slipping into a never-ending madness. The obvious answer was screaming in my ear, but all I wanted to do was stop talking and bring this goddess back into bed with me.

I sighed, "I understand..."

As I flew away from her large home after awkwardly saying goodbye, her words rang throughout my head. She felt it was best I not see her for a while, suggesting that Dillon bring Goten to her sessions instead. Any contact to her I once had, I should refrain myself from using. She promised me that if I wanted to see my own therapist, she had the perfect person for me. A wild night of passion was probably all I needed to get a lot out of my system; like recharging some old batteries. Whatever issues I had, I should be able to conquer now—and that I shouldn't be afraid to ask for help from a professional.

All in all, she dumped me.

I flew around for hours until landing back in my familiar settings. I held my beaten heart in my hands, feeling ashamed and guilty; hollow; plastic. I didn't know what else to do or where to go. I had no home and no one to love me once again.

Except for him.

"You were right… please… I'm so sorry…"

After a long, dark glare, a gloved hand took my own and led me back inside.

"Things will change." He promised me. "I won't hurt you again." Another promise. "I love you. I swear things will be different now."

I know they won't. I know we will fall right back into the old ways. I know I will allow him to bring me down and spit on my good name. I know that the abuse will start right back up but….. I'm ok with that.

Truth be told… I just don't care anymore.

Goten's POV

What are you doing?

/What the hell do you mean? What are YOU doing?/

Shut up.

/Why are you so afraid to admit what you are? /

Shut up!

/A faggot, worthless, stupid little boy./

Shut UP.

/This is your fault… /

"Please… I just want to stop…"

/They know you killed them… and if you don't take them out, they are going to get you!/

"Make it STOP!"

"GOTEN!" A hand grabbed my arm and I snapped back into reality, Dillon's voice tearing me away from the thoughts in my head. "What have you done?" He dragged me to my feet and hurried me over to a sink in the bathroom. My head was throbbing and all I felt was a searing hot pain all throughout my brain. Looking down with heavy eyes, I saw nothing but red fill the sink as ice cold water ran over my skin, Dillon squeezing my arm to continue to push blood out. My eyes locked on the red liquid that swirled down the drain, Dillon's voice thinning into nothing, listening to myself again.

/He's trying to put that thing back inside of you so they can track your every move./

"But he wouldn't do that. He loves me."

/Does he? You stupid boy./

"I'm not stupid…"

/He works for THEM and you're going to let him do this!/

"Y-you're lying…"

/YOU STUPID FAGGOT BOY! THIS IS YOUR FAULT!/

"Goten, it's just me here. Who are you talking to?" Dillon shook me, making me gasp and realize that this was reality. He held my face in his large hands, piercing golden-green eyes looking deep into mine. He had bandaged my mangled arm up in a towel, and wrapped my other hand together tightly with medical tape.

"…. Wh-what… happened…?" My voice rasped out, finding myself disoriented and unsure of the past hour.

Dillon sighed and placed his forehead on mine. "Bella….. you thought that someone put a tracking device in your wrist… so you ripped open the skin and kept trying to dig it out…"

"….. so….. You didn't put it in back, did you…?"

"… Oh God, Goten…."

/I told you./

Normal POV

The door closed behind a gold-skinned Australian teen, the man sighing as he trudged up the stairs into the ratty apartment he shared with his lover and his lover's father. He held some grocery bags in his arms, realizing quickly since living with the Androids that food would always be scarce unless he bought it himself. Raven was away at work and the teen prayed that his alcoholic father was gone as well, wishing to have the place to himself.

After putting away his groceries, he quietly walked down to the room he stayed in with Raven, instantly going to his bag of clothes and pulling a tiny vile of white pebble-looking chunks. Voorhees made himself comfortable at Raven's small end table, getting out the white chunks and then a razor he kept in his jacket pocket. He instantly went to work chopping up the cocaine into a fine powder, completely focused on it, not paying attention to anything else but the drugs. Once all of his hard work paid off, he lined up 3 rows of the white powder and plugged a nostril, bending down and snuffing up a line of cocaine instantly. He coughed a little and rubbed his nose, his eyes watering up.

As Voorhees went down for another line of the cocaine, an unwelcome visitor opened walked into the room and smirked at the sight. His glazed eyes ate the image of the drug-using Aussie alive, his lack of sobriety making the teenager even more appealing. "What do we have here..?" His voice slurred a little, causing the Australian to stop what he was doing.

"M-Mr. Gero! I uh… I'm sorry I just… I thought I was alone." Voorhees wiped at his nose, his face red and his eyes filled with tears from the drugs, feeling its effects quickly.

"A dire mistake, don't you think…?" Raven's father smirked even more, closing the door behind him and blocking the only exit Voorhees had. "Doing drugs in my home?"

Voorhees couldn't stop fidgeting, his gold pupils completely dilated –causing the figure of Android 17 to blur- and his body felt as though it was on fire. But, for some reason, he could sense something wrong was going to happen and backed up away from the end table to the wall. "I'm s-s-sorry, mate. It just helps to kill time…"

The Android knelt down in front of the shaken Voorhees, his smug smirk never leaving his pale face. "I know of another way to kill time…"

"I-I-I…. I'd rather n-not… Raven he'll… he'll be home soon." The teen could see what Android 17 wanted, and it terrified him.

"Who gives a shit about that damned disgrace of a son? Besides," Android 17 grabbed Voorhees by the wrist, scowling, "you're living in MY home for free. I think you owe me some form of retribution for having to support your ass. Raven can't help you now, slut." He frowned even deeper and started to pull the teen away.

Voorhees on the other hand fought back, trying to yank his arm away, only to end up wrestling with a robot that could crush him with the flick of the wrist. He was pinned down stomach-first under the pale eyed Android, 17 grabbing his pants and ripping them down. The teen screamed, everything in a completely different sensation from the cocaine in his body, trying to break free only to have his arm twist and pop. He shrieked in pain, tears pouring down his cheeks.

"Try that again, and I'll rip it off." 17 growled in his ear and went to undoing his own pants, ready to take his retribution one way or another.

"R-Raven! P-Pleeeeeease!"

"He didn't believe you, did he? When you told him I made a move on you? Of course not. He's a waste of air. I'll bet he also wouldn't believe you if you told him you were still whoring yourself off just to pay for your fucking drugs. Huh?" Android 17 pressed himself against the entrance of the squirming, pleading, sobbing Australian.

"Help me!"

"He can't save you. Nor does he want to. No one wants you besides those wanting a whore!" 17 took both of Voorhees's wrists in one hand and then yanked on his hair, loving it when the teen squeaked in pain. "Now, scream, my little whore." He then impaled.

"RAVEN!"

Gohan looked up, sensing something wrong that suddenly hit him. It had come to him so suddenly that he had stopped eating, his fork hanging in the air. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he could feel his stomach flip-flop.

"Daddy?"

Little Pan caught her father's attention, getting him out of that weird daze. "H-huh?" He stuttered and looked to his daughter, then to his wife. "OH! S-Sorry! I just... thought I felt something… that's all." He gave the classic Son grin but couldn't help that nagging feeling of trouble.

If only he knew how right he was.

A phone rang throughout the large Italian home of the Santinni's, the heir of the family in the kitchen with his Saiyan lover, wearing an all-black pinstriped suit and a blood red tie. Dillon reached across the island in the middle of the large room and grabbed the cordless, face red and a little short of breath. "Ciao?"

"Hey Dillon, it's Raven... Are you busy?"

Dillon looked down at the chocolate eyes that looked up at him, moaning as the mouth that belonged to those eyes did something fantastic. "Errr…. U-uhmm… a little. What's up?"

"I promise I won't take long… I was just wondering if you had heard from or seen Voorhees lately…?"

"I thought that he moved in with you months ago. Sh-shouldn't you… nnnn….. know these things?" The fingers in Goten's hair tightened as the Saiyan took him all the way down. He gave a loud moan that he couldn't bite back.

"Y-Yeah but…. I just…. He hasn't been home for weeks now… I'm used to him being gone for a few days but… I just… was hoping that you might have heard from him…"

Goten ran his tongue up and down and then started sucking on the end, knowing just what it took to bring his lover over the edge. "N-No I'm sorry, Ray… I haven't heard from him. If I do, I will let you know. Now if you'll please excuse me, I have something to take care of…" With that, he hung up and eagerly finished what Goten had started, leaving Raven confused and upset on the other side of the city.

Truth be told, it truly had been a few weeks since Raven had last seen or heard from the Australian. He arrived home late one evening from work again only to find the place a wreck and his father smoking a cigarette on their black leather couch, smug look on his face, feet propped up on the glass coffee table. The teenager rolled his eyes, hating when his "father" had that grin because it only meant trouble, and went to his room to find Voorhees gone. When yelling into the living room about his whereabouts, the Android simply replied with a "He didn't say." Not finding any concern in this, Raven simply figured Voorhees was out getting into his own trouble. Who wouldn't? Staying cooped up in a nasty apartment wasn't exactly the most fun a wild 17 year old could have.

Yet, Raven couldn't help himself in stressing and wanting him there after the Aussie had expressed love to him. He felt vulnerable and a bit obsessed now, never really having been in a real relationship before with anyone. The closest thing he knew to a relationship was whatever his father was expressing towards him, or the random time in his life where he met an older guy he was extremely fond of; a senior football player that went to Orange Star High.

They met when Raven was crying on a stoop in the city, homeless at the time, his father having left him alone for days on end at the shelter. The football player was such a nice guy with sandy-colored hair and big green eyes, always wanting to play with him and toss the football around. Little 11 year old Raven was completely obsessed with him, latching onto the 18 year old like an older brother—or even a father. So there was no surprise when his older friend touched him between his legs eventually and the hybrid android welcomed it with open arms. That's what love was, right? How did he know that those kinds of touches were bad? It just felt nice to be wanted. He loved him and was willing to fight back his fear, tears and uncomfortable butterflies when his older friend put his dick in his mouth, and then into his body. He was strong –just like his daddy wanted him to be- by not crying when the kind football player fucked him behind the football field bleachers one day, taking his virginity away without a care.

19 sexual partners later, and Raven was still trying to find out what love really was.

He thought he had finally caught it with the Australian teen and wanted nothing more than to hold onto it forever. Now, sitting in his room, alone, he thought about Voorhees and then thought about the bastard that fucked him when he was just 11. Hot tears poured out of his eyes as he came to the realization that like the football player, Voorhees had left him too the moment he told him he loved him. Just like when he was on the stoop years ago, he wrapped his arms around his legs and tucked his face between his limbs, sobbing quietly to himself. But this time, no one was there to come up to him and make him feel better.

He was utterly, miserably and unbearably alone.

Goten's POV

"We have a new job for you, Goten."

After becoming an assassin for the Santinni mafia, I didn't have to ask about what kind of job they were talking about. As a top assassin, I was given jobs that required perfection and the utmost brutality and torture. Things that are perfect for my schizophrenic mind. It made my blood rush, but I showed no real emotion like a true sociopath.

"A prostitute of ours now only owes us money for his work, but he has persistently missed paying us dues for all the drugs we provided for him when he came looking. He has been going to a rival family for 'help' against us and to the FBI to rat us out. We want you to go take care of him."

I was told the locations they have seen this whore and that they wanted his head. Retrieving the head meant only one thing; it was extremely personal. It was going to take me just a little investigative work due to the fact that the prostitute was constantly hiding and changing his image to avoid detection. I am going with the description of "innocent golden eyes" as I head out into the filthy streets of the city that was known for its male prostitutes. I walked in a black trench coat and a fedora, scanning the people that walked up and down the sidewalk. Drug carting, prostitutes, criminals, murderers, rapists, and dirty cops; it was primo Santinni turf.

Male prostitutes tried to beckon me away for an hour for a "good time" and promises of getting my mind blown. I simply growled and yanked away from their dirty hands. None of them had the golden-eyes, but some had yellowed eyes from drugs. A blaring police siren caused me to jump and hide in an alley from paranoia, keeping my back against the brick wall as the cop car flew by. There was the downfall of being in the mob; constant paranoia. I jumped again as a homeless man grabbed my ankle, begging for some change. I kicked him away and nearly stomped him to death for daring to touch me, briskly walking away from the mess I just made.

I searched for nearly an hour and growled once again in frustration, starting to think that this was going to be a few days process. I was about to call Dillon to let him know that the man wasn't here until someone nearly screamed my name. I put my phone away and turned, seeing someone in nothing but rags and dirty clothes stand up from an alley and come at me. "Thank God it's you!" He fell to my feet and grabbed onto my legs, shaking and sobbing.

I grabbed the man by the head and nearly ripped his head right off of his shoulders had I not noticed a mop of curly golden-brown hair fall from the hood that the ragged man was wearing. I pulled his head back and caught sight of a very dirty and thin-looking Aussie.

"…. Voorhees?" I was flabbergasted.

"Oie, Goten! I am so happy to see you, mate!" My friend staggered on his feet, unable to keep himself standing straight, his hands shaking like mad. I put my arm around him and helped lead him away from such a busy street and sidewalk, going down and more secluded street with less traffic. He constantly kept scratching at his neck and I could see all the scratches that had scarred his once beautiful skin.

"What…. are you doing here…?" My voice was quiet in case loud sounds startled him, stepping into a dark building that served food, having the teen sit down. He looked like a god awful mess, his face slightly sunken in while the rims of his eyes were red and puffy. He looked like he was freezing, even in all of those rags and coats.

"I am I some real trouble, mate." His words all ran together and he looked just as paranoid as me. "I r-ran away from Raven's about a month ago. I've been on the streets ever since." He grabbed the water and bread that was placed in front of us and sucked it back. "I started d-doing cocaine w-when I was living with him and now I c-can't stop." He kept pulling at his fingers and scratching his neck with his shaking hands. "I can't g-get the good stuff now, so I had to go t-to crack." I closed my eyes in disappointment as my once amazing and go-getter friend was now nothing but a crackhead. "N-Now I'm sucking cock just to get enough money for a tiny, worthless pebble."

I slammed my hand down on the table, making him jump and nearly shriek. "Why don't you go back to Raven's? This can't possibly be the life you want!" I was pissed and waved off a server that tried to come over.

"I can't go back there…" He whispered and I could see pain in his glassy eyes.

"Why?"

"I just can't…"

"FUCK YOU. WHY can't you go back, Voorhees?"

"Because 17 will rape me again!" He blurted out and then covered his mouth with his hands, gawking at me as if he weren't supposed to say anything.

Without me asking, he finally spilled the beans on what happened to him. How Raven's father had made several moves on him prior to his rape and he had always laughed it off, and how he was more than welcome to stay with them as long as he was willing to pay for the cost of living with his body like a true whore. He explained to me that he couldn't go home either; his father would try to literally kill him. He didn't want to burden Dillon or I considering my mental state, so all he did was run and find comfort in crack cocaine.

"B-But…. Now I fear that I am in some trouble now I can't escape from.."

"Nonsense, Voorhees. You'll come back with me and we'll get you back to your old self in no time." I waved it off and found myself angry when he shook his head at me.

"N-No… I can't. I won't. I need to keep running."

"What are you talking about?" I quirked an eyebrow at him, now very curious to what he had gotten himself into this time.

"…. The mob….. I owe them a lot of money…"

I blinked and just stared at Voorhees, shocked once again. "H-How…?"

"All of the drugs… they let me have it ahead of time and then I was supposed to pay them at a later date… and when the date came up, I would beg for more and they would just tack on more to my 'bill'… and then before I knew it, I owed them almost 200 thousand dollars! Where can I get money like that? I… I didn't know what to do so I just….. I started selling my body to try and make payments whenever I could… th-then a pimp picked me up and… I guess he works for the mob too! The same mob I owe all this money to… Oie Goten…. I don't know what to do…." He started sobbing in front of me, looking at me with his glassy eyes.

His innocent, golden-eyes.

I stood up and patted his arm, telling him we should leave the little hole in the wall restaurant before we drew too much attention to ourselves. I led him down the street and we turned into an alley, my arm still on his back to guide him as he cried. We went around the alley corner where no one could see us and I finally took my hand off of him, letting him sit down on an old crate and watching him wipe his eyes, putting my hands in my deep pockets. "Th-the worst part is….. I heard that there is a hit on me….. that their top assassin is coming after me. Word has it; he tortures and eats his targets before handing over their bodies to the boss. It's so terrifying… I can't even sleep! I can't eat! I always think he is right around the corner… hunting me…" He looked up at me again.

I just stared down at him with a solemn look on my face, but heavily conflicted on the inside. "Goten please help me….. I just…. I don't know what to do anymore….." He pleaded with me and started to sob again, wiping his eyes with his dirty hands, most likely ridden with all kinds of disease and illness from living on the streets and selling his body for drug money. I took my hands out of my pockets and raised one to his head, my fingers forming the shape of a gun.

"Don't worry my friend…. I'll save you…"

He raised his head, my index fingers right between his eyes. Sickening, black fear instantly washed over his face. "G-Goten….?"

"I'm sorry, Voorhees." A bright white light formed at my fingertip.

"G-Goten? What…. are you doing?

"No Mercy. No Remorse…. No Matter What."

TBC.
- 15
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Domination