So This is Forever

A/N: Wheeeee! Chapter three! Sorry that took so long, finals week is coming up and I've been a busy bee. Also, I have been having trouble with italics so all the ghosts of christmas passed (aka, memory voices) are in brackets, i.e. [did you know that Bejita can travel 20 miles per minute?] Enjoy the chapter and if you want another one, then review please!



Bejita left. He always does. I don’t know where he goes.

I lay in bed long after he has left, letting the sunlight streaming through the windows sear my eyes as I breathe in the lingering scent of what we’ve done together, savoring it like all of the rare things we share.

So different. What a cruel joke.

His chi soars further away from me and still I lie there, following it until it is too hard to distinguish from others. So far away. And I lie there still for hours afterward, forgetting food, ignoring my urgent need to urinate, only to lay in the spot that he left warm behind him and wonder where he goes.

Not home. West City could be found in the opposite direction of which the object of my frustration soars with such maddening speed and Capsule Corporation lies in the center of it, surrounded by winding metal freeways and the whir of hover cars. No, Bejita would not go there. He had always found the city to be a chaotic sea of noise and distraction, so different from the empty, deathly silence of space that he was so familiar with. A deep breath fills my lungs, and I feel like I can breathe for the first time in hours as that small memory rushes back to me, a precious gift like so many others, rare and beautiful and stumbled upon my chance. A domed window, stars and blackness on the other side, in the center a deep red planet that radiates such strength and magnificence that all stars seem to swirl around it, pulled in by its force, entranced, so captivated that they may only gravitate toward it, basking in its glow. And my heart sinks in my chest, feeling as though a hand has reached inside to pull at it and with that aching, throbbing pain the vision vanishes, leaving me clutching at my chest and aching for something that I’ve never known, yet longed for all my life. Home.

A knock on the door.

The sudden noise jars me, sending my heart racing in my chest in an unexpected panic, my body bolting forward, eyes scanning my small quarters in alarm. Confusion clouds my thoughts, I blink, lifting a hand to my head as it begins its dull throbbing, taking in the tangled sheets, the golden quality of the light shining through the window, shreds of blue cloth scattered across the floor, the clinging smell of sweat now turned stale and choking. It is later than it was and Bejita has not come back.

A knock again, louder this time, and I pick up on a small, concealed energy just outside the door, cautiously probing it with my mind before recognizing it as familiar. And a voice that has followed me nearly my entire life calls out soon after.

“Goku! Come on, I know you’re in there.” A pause, uncertainty. “Let me in?”

The name sounds strange at first, and it takes a small amount of thought to recognize it as my own. I stand and run a hand through greasy, tangled hair before stumbling toward the door. The light shining through the curtains has a golden quality to it and for a moment everything looks solid, real, as if everything before this moment had been a dream. I open the door.

He looks older than I remember him looking since that last day we were all together, the whole group gathered on top of the lookout, all giddy smiles and thumbs up and shouts of victory. Bulma had thrown a dinner party at Capsule Corp. and it had been the first time that everyone I knew and loved was gathered together in seven years. Chichi held onto my arm all night pressing herself against my side just like the day we were married but this time I didn’t pull away, just savored it, this thing that I had missed in exchange for saving the world. Another price I paid.

That night had felt so surreal, so dream-like, as though it were too good, too simple and happy to be a part of my life. Trunks and Goten shouting across the table as they retold tale after tale, their training with Piccolo, the fusion, battling Buu, being trapped inside the Hyperbolic Timechamber, being absorbed and trapped inside Buu’s body, even the hazy, fragmented memories of death that mystified them in a way no other aspect of their adventures did. Piccoro sitting in the corner, arms crossed in front of him, giving a small smile as he listens to their excited voices. Bulma ruffling Trunks’ hair as she pours Yamucha a glass of wine. Kuririn balances Marron on his lap as he describes being turned into a chocolate bar, making his daughter giggle as he uses his chi to make animal crackers dance in front of her and 18 watching him all the while with a look in her eye that Chichi stopped giving me long ago. A proud, fierce sort of love that is protective and enduring.

Still, surrounded by my friends and family, hearing story after story, despite Chichi’s expectant stares and Goten’s awed admiration and curious questions my eyes began to wander, finding Bejita standing against a tree in the shadows of deepening twilight, separate from us even when surrounded by us. The way he noticed me watching him and held my gaze in his unflinching stare, the two of us lost in something we couldn’t understand as the world spun and buzzed in its tumultuous chaos and frivolity around us. How everything had been in that look, an odd sort of truth I found in his eyes, a mad reason that told me the story of my own separateness. The way the corner of his mouth curled before he walked away, pinning me under those eyes like a butterfly under glass. The way he looked as he made his way toward the GR, each step radiating strength and certainty and the way that it felt as it hummed through my body as I watched his boots crush the blades of grass beneath them, leaving barely distinguishable footprints. The moment I decided to follow…

“Goku?”

My eyes focus and Kuririn is standing in front of me, looking worried and afraid, and I realize that I’ve faded off again. I move a hand to the back of my head and contort my face into a sheepish grin like I used to, but it feels forced, my limbs are stiff and the smile makes my lips feel stretched and thin. Remembering that I used to laugh at this point, I push out a distorted little chuckle, hoping this will put him at ease, that he won’t see that the person I am can never be Goku again.

“Sorry, Kuririn, I…” My voice trails off and I’m searching my mind for words, an excuse for some sort and he is frowning in a frightened way, but what am I supposed to tell him? That sometimes I am not myself? That sometimes I lose track of where I am, that my mind will turn into smoke, a swirling fog full of too many memories for one person to carry and they’ll push their way into my head, overwhelming everything else until I don’t know what is real until I touch something solid? And even then my mind will see something else, hear different voices, voices that I have never heard before, speaking languages that are strange and unfamiliar yet I understand every word? That sometimes I will wake up next to Bejita and not remember if I am him or me?

“…I…was sleeping.” My hand covers my mouth, which stretches into a yawn that is, by the expression on his face, not too convincing. My eyes dart away to examine a crack in the doorframe, willing him to leave. Unprepared to explain why I have not been home in a week, why Bejita hasn’t been seen in the same amount of time and why I smell like day old sex. I realize that my hand is still next to my mouth, having subconsciously curled itself into a fist, and I let it fall to my side.

Kuririn eyes me warily. “Can I come in?”

Panic curls itself into my stomach and my eyes shift to the side to survey the damage I have made of the small capsule home I stole from Buruma the day it became obvious that I could no longer be apart from Bejita for longer than an hour.

“Oh,” the word comes out as a squeak and I clear my throat loudly, turning my head as I take in the bed against the wall, it’s sheets twisted, drops of blood stained on the white material, shreds of mine and Bejita’s clothing strewn across the floor. The smell of our sweat and semen hangs like a heavy cloud in the room. Desperate, I scan my mind for excuses, thinking of the things Chichi used to say when Buruma would visit. “Well, the house is such a mess…”

Kuririn’s hand shoots out in front of him to grab the door as I move to close it, holding it open as his eyes pierce mine with a grim, determined stare. “Come outside, then.”

We stand there, staring at each other, and I’m finding it harder to stay composed. Bejita has been gone for over four hours and I am feeling my sanity slipping with every passing minute.

“O-okay.”

I step outside and pull the door closed behind me, keeping my hand on the cold metal doorknob as I lean against it, holding myself up. Kuririn stares at me and I have to squint to see him as the sun sets behind the trees, turning the sky orange and red. There is gray in his hair.

“Um, is there something wrong?” There’s a pain behind my eyes and my stomach has turned cold and queasy.

“You haven’t been home in two weeks.”

I blink, confused, and my hand slips against the doorknob with the sweat that has gathered there. “One week.”

“Two.” Kuririn insists and waits for me to answer and I wipe the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand, stalling for time. I can feel Bejita’s chi approaching at a steady pace, coming from the north, and it is everything I can do not to fly toward it.

My name is said again, the strange one with the round sounds to it, lacking the harshness of the other, the jagged consonants. Kuririn is waiting for an answer.

“Bejita and I have been…training.” It is a weak excuse but the only one he might find believable.

Kuririn stares at me in a cautious sort of way, scrutinizing me under a gaze I am finding for the first time to be intimidating. It is cold out here compared to the humid temperature of the capsule house and I shiver despite my efforts. He sees this and his voice comes out softer than before.

“You don’t look well, Gokuu.”

Bejita has crossed half the distance that separates us and the feel of him getting closer and closer is all that holds me together. The silhouette of Kuririn against the orange sky is shifting and growing horns and my panic is rising in little shivers of horror.

[Oh my. You are not looking well at all, my dear.]

“Well, training is…hard…“ Hands curl around my shoulders with claws that dig into my skin and I am holding in the need to retch, panting against the sudden heat in my body. My heart pounds in my chest, making every breath shallow and I can’t breathe. Kuririn blurs right in front of me and the edges of my vision turn black, my eyes are rolling into the back of my head. Someone is holding me up and whispering in my ear but I’m fading away and I can’t find anything solid to touch. “Please, don’t…”

A weight on my chest, hands around my throat, something slithering in the dark, cold fingers forcing my mouth open and I’m gagging and fighting against hands that hold me down, pushing something into my throat…

…Bejita-sama you need to open your mouth. we’re trying to help you damnit hold him down…

“Goku?”

The doorknob. My hand closes around cold metal and I squeeze it to the point of breaking, savoring the pressure against my palm as everything sinks back into place. Black trees against an orange sky, a soft breeze ruffling my hair, the solid pressure of the door against my back and Kuririn’s wide eyes, mouth open as if he is going to speak but cannot find the words. I find mine first.

“ I’m not feeling so well.” Please, just go away. There’s no way to make you understand. “Maybe we can talk some other time--”

“What’s going on, Gokuu?” He has crossed his arms in front of him, feet spaced in a stance that is unmoving and Bejita is now only 100 miles away, moving quickly and I can feel his desperation in the air as if carried on the breeze. “You come back from the dead and then you disappear again? Think about Chichi! She’s waited her whole life for you to be there and now that you have the chance you’re training?”

“Kuririn…” 80 miles away and I’m going to lose control…

“Goten doesn’t even know who his father is and Gohan gave up on you so long ago that he doesn’t even care when you’re gone anymore!” He stops suddenly and his hands are clenched into fists at his sides, arms shaking as he struggles to compose himself. And I am shocked because I have never seen him so furious. It’s strange coming from him, the one person who has only held a respect and awe of me that has never failed to endure my oddities. But with all its harrowing wrongness, it makes its way to me through a sieve of detachment, like a voice calling out across the great expanse of the ocean. The words are there and the voice is familiar but I can find sense in neither. 60 miles and I am a monster…

“Think about it, Goku,” the old familiarity returns to his voice for a moment and he is pleading with me. “Can you really give all that up, just so you’ll be able to fight all the time?”

“Th-this isn’t about that…” I did this for them.

“Just go home, Goku. Be with your family, while they still want you to be.”

For a moment I can see into his frustration, feel the fierce love that comes from having a family, from having people to protect and I think of Gohan and I feel that familiar tugging in my heart that comes with losing something and fearing that you will never get it back, but it is only a ghost of an emotion and it is no longer mine to have. Because Bejita has taken that part away from me and I would be lying if I claimed to miss it.

“I can’t.”

Disbelief. “Why not?”

But there is no answer I can give him, none that he would understand and I don’t say anything. Bejita’s chi is a roar in my ears and 20 miles is not far enough away, not enough time. There is a hurt in Kuririn’s eyes that I have never seen before and I am hurting him, hurting everyone I know, but the moment I see Bejita I will no longer care. Because those emotions are lost to me in his presence with no room for anything but the cold certainty of my desire.

“You give me an answer, Gokuu.” He has taken hold of the front of my shirt, attempting to shake me, to make sense of this, but he has the power to do neither and I am unable to continue with is. I grab his wrist and his eyes widen, fear flashing behind them as my fingers tighten and it should have hurt more, the fact that he is afraid of me, but it fails to make an impression. Bejita is nearly here and I my insides have gone cold. My grip tightens just enough to encourage him to let go of me and I pull his hand away before letting it go, giving him a look that proclaims this conversation at an end.

“I just can’t.”

He brings his hand against his chest and rubs the bruised skin of his wrist, calculating me with precise eyes and, despite that he is now trying to hide it, I can see the sting of betrayal lingering there, eating a hole in his resolve. Eyes narrow with accusation and there’s something there that is threatening and strange to see in him as his next words come out in a gruff whisper.

“What is going on with you and Bejita, anyway?”

And in that moment the wind picks up, turning the gentle evening breeze into a destructive gale and Bejita’s chi hits me with the swift force of a blow, turning the world black in a single second, my vision invaded by a sudden assault of images, each striking me in rapid succession and my hands cover my ears to block out the sound of a thousand voices screaming.

… Jheisu,covers his mouth with a gloved hand, blood leaking a bright red between the stark white fingers and my head throbs, pain stabbing against my cheek like needles [you fucking little bastard] but the scream turns into my own and there are shackles around my wrists and ankles and hands are pressing me down against a cold metal table and Raditzu is fighting two soldiers that are stronger than him, reaching out to me as they hold him back and a syringe is filled with a green liquid, the needle flashing in the harsh light before pressing against the soft flesh of my arm and it burns cold inside my veins [help me Raditzu don’t let them do this to me don’t let them] a girl pinned down against the bloody remains of her people, sobbing and whimpering as globs of flesh and bone get caught in hair, Nappa and Raditzu’s laughter echoing across a lifeless landscape that smells of charred meat and organs being cooked slowly in the sun, the sick feeling in my stomach, a hallway and pure, unbridled terror, strong hands forcing me forward, boots sliding against the smooth surface of the floor, struggling for resistance [nonononononononono…]

Terror takes a hold of me and the doorknob shatters in my hand, slicing open my palm as it closes around the remaining jagged metal shards and the pain cuts across the barrage of memories, so I clench it into a fist, digging every splinter deep into the muscle until I can open my eyes and see Kuririn looking up at the sky with a foreboding expression, fists raised to ward of a threat.

Bejita lands without a sound no more than ten feet away and crosses his arms in front of him, angry eyes taking us in without a word. Kuririn watches him closely, his body tensed for a fight but Bejita does not acknowledge him, just stares at me with an expression that reveals nothing. He crosses the distance between us without a word, each footstep brisk and sure of itself, yet there is an underlying urgency that fills me with anxious anticipation. The possibility that he needs me as desperately as I need him.

Those steps come to a halt directly in front of me and I look back at him expectantly, overcome by the closeness of him with no more than two inches between our bodies. There’s a heat radiating off of him and it feels my body with electric sensations, lifting the hair on my arms and neck.

“Bejita…”

A gloved hand lifts and touches my chest and I can feel the heat of his skin through my clothes, my chest rising and falling beneath that touch in sharp, unstable breaths. Bejita frowns, glancing at Kuririn from the corner of his eyes before returning his gaze to me.

“Get rid of him.”

Fingers curl against the front of my gi, twisting the material to pull me from the door with rough impatience and I stumbled backward, watching him enter the little dome house to close the door behind him, leaving Kuririn and I outside, nothing but the sound of crickets echoing around us. I can feel Kuririn looking at me through the darkness but I am unable to speak, only able to think about going inside where Bejita is, still feeling his hand against my chest.

When Kuririn speaks his voice is haunted and shaken and full of despair. “What has he done to you?”

But I barely hear his voice and I find it is as meaningful to me as the chirps of the crickets around us. All sounds are muffled whisperings and my eyes can no longer see anything but dreams. I move to the door and I hear Kuririn turn to me, needing an answer, a reason but he doesn’t know that can’t give the answers anymore. That was Goku’s job.

“Goku?” Shrill and expectant.

“Go home, Kuririn.”

The door squeaks as I push it open but there’s no light shining through, just a blue shade of darkness and the air is humid and choking when I step inside, not turning back because then I will see his face and feel the unease of knowing that I no longer feel an empathy for him, this friend of mine that trusted me with such blind faith. Still, I wish I could tell him why it has to be this way. I want to tell him that it was a mistake.

“Goku!”

His voice breaks and even the crickets are silent and I do look back, despite my resolve, and his hand reaches out to me, eyes wide with disbelief, begging me back, but I can’t. This has taken control of me.

“I’m sorry, Kuririn.”

But he doesn’t hear me because I have already shut the door.