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Crossroads	By : AnNiE4 Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1963 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ nor am I making any profit from writing this.

Chapter List
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"Crossroads"
Chapter 4
Once home Gohan hurried upstairs and grabbing a clean towel headed off to the bathroom while his father raided the fridge downstairs. There was an hour before he had to start work. With the door closed and locked he carefully pulled off his t-shirt in front of the small cabinet mirror and inspected the bruising. It always amazed him at how quickly he could sometimes heal. It was both a blessing and a curse as it also made him the ideal target. His old man knew any evident would be quick to disappear.

He checked the large ugly bruise that tainted his otherwise perfect flesh under his ribs. It was tender to touch. He hissed when he pressed softly around the swollen area. "Damn, that smarts."

There was nothing he could do about it until it healed. He reached back and pulled the plastic shower curtain across before turning on the taps. There wasn't much room in the dark dingy room and even with the light on it was still gloomy. When the temperature was about right he quickly stripped and hopped into the shower before the hot water ran out. He certainly didn't want his father pound on the door accusing him from using all the hot water.

Relishing his time in the steamy water as it washed over him, massaging all those tired sore muscles. Gohan knew he wasn't built like his old man. He looked more like a regular teenager of his age but with more defined muscles than most. What with working over at the steel works for the past few months. Still nothing like the man he admired the most - his teacher Harris.

Gohan had noticed especially in the last month or so his attraction to the man was growing in leaps and bounds. Even to the point of waking in the dead of the night all flushed and sultry. It panicked him each time.

But each time he saw his teacher it steadily got worse. There were also unexplainable urges to want to sink his teeth deep into the man's neck. It was a need that was strong in him unexplained need.

It had to be twisted to even harbour a lot of these thought, but it was always a real turn on for him. He was acutely aware that he was attracted to older males, specifically drawn to the alpha male. If that was the case, then what did that make him? He didn�t feel any lesser, but dominant males was what caught his eye. Especially if they were well built. This, he knew for certain, was definitely not in his best interest. It was a definite, tabo in his household to even consider leaning that way.

Even with everything that had been happening with Stephanie Hamilton it was always James Harris that snuck into his dreams at night. Today he had to fight the urge, the need to have Harris touch him. Gohan needed him to respond. Something he knew would never happen.

He was getting hot just thinking about it as soft soap suds caressed over his toned flesh, begging for release. Dark eyes clouded with desire hidden behind heavy lashes on wild and heated visions that quickly came to his mind. Just when he was entertain the thought of finding that release. His father pounding on the door abruptly cancelled out any desire he might have had.

"You're using up all the water! Get OUT!...Bloody kid." Mark complained with his ear to the door. "Are you OUT?" Still hearing the water running as Gohan rushed to rinse himself.

"YES!" Gohan yelled snatching up a towel hoping his father leave him be.

"Good! Now get dressed." Mark growled satisfied the boy was out of the shower. Gohan collapsed back against the shower wall eyes squeezed shut, frustrated and angry. He hated his life.

Climbing out of the bath slash shower he dried his hair, before dressing as fast he could. He didn't want a repeat of his father�s return. He took time for a quick glimpse in the mirror and noticed the straggly bits of hair telling him it was time for another hair cut.

No matter what style he cut his hair it always had a mind of its own. He had all but given up. At the most he didn't mind growing it long enough that it would cover his eyes. Being very self-conscious he had always been uncomfortable when it came to complements, and people seem to be always complementing him on his dark eyes and heavy lashes. Growing his hair was a way to escape that and hide them from view. That and wearing baseball cap low seemed to do the trick. It made him look uninteresting for anyone wanting to make conversation.

Gohan tossed everything into the dirty clothes hamper that will need washing over the weekend. His father had a way of leaving all the house duties up to him and expected him to do it otherwise there were consequence. In that Gohan learnt early on that you just don�t auger with Mark Collins.

With one last look, a sadly smile tugged on his lips at seeing his mother Chichi's protective chain that hanged around his neck. He hurriedly opened the door to grab his wallet and keys.

.....

Downstairs Gohan went in search of food and heard the TV droning in the living room in the front of the house. He could hear his father back to grumbling about some sports commentator. He grabbed some cheese and bread and quickly made a sandwich to go. He didn't want to stay around any longer than he had to with his old man around. Washed it all down with a glass of milk and was just about to make his escape. When he reached the handle of the front door his father stood and walked over.

"You better be home by the time I get back from the pub with Dan. I know your shift knocks off at ten." Mark warned.

"I'll be home." Gohan promised, ready to go.

"You better be." Mark warned raising a brow making his point known before turning back into the living room. With that Gohan was quick to flee from his father's presence. Outsaid he quickly moved around the front of the truck and tossed his workbag in the back tray before opening the door. He quickly fired the old Chevy as his father watched from the living room window.

Pulling away from the house squeezing the steering wheel, his jaw was clenched holding back all the strong feeling swelling inside of him. All the things he wanted to say like letting his father know just how much he hated him. If he wasn't such a coward he would have done something about years ago. His old man was right in one regard. He was a coward. Maybe he had always known it from the start. It could be why he always got into so many fights. In a loop always out to prove himself that he wasn�t.

Rolling up the windows he turned the radio up and turned the heater on. This required a firm hit at one point to get the heater working right. Gohan turned the wipers on as the light drizzle trailed a path down the windscreen. Headlights shone the way pulling out onto the main road once again for that day.

Glancing up through his windscreen noticing it looked like they were in for some more rain. He could only hope the old tyres will grip okay in the wet weather. As much as he loved driving he hated driving in the rain. Crossing the railroad seeing the lights over in the huge factor shed brisling with life. The steel works was otherwise surrounded by dry woodland, a wasteland devoid of inhabitants.

He parked the truck under one of the two giant lights Sam had there. The icy rain fell softly around him tapping at his thin jacket. He was wearing torn jeans, t-shirt and working boots that cost him his first pay check. He zipped up his jacket as far as it would go and quickly sprinted through the rain towards one of the many sheds where he worked. That was if he wasn't called to help with something else.

As soon as Gohan stepped inside the large open warehouse he could see Sam was right about needing every able person. The place was packed with large wooden crates that towered over him. It was going to be a long night. Walking over to his forklift parked off to the side pulling out his gloves from his back pocket, put them on and went straight to work.

.....

Later that night wiping his tired eyes he heard his name been called from behind him. "GOHAN!" He turned to see Sam pointing to his watch. "Take a break!" Came the order.

Gohan was thankful for the rest. He felt he been at it for hours. Hopping down he moved over to Sam who was waiting for him. As soon as Gohan was in reach he placed his arm over the boy's shoulders. "You looked like you need a break. You've been working hard." Sam said slapping him on the back. It was taken as a complement. "Come up to the office."

Grateful and a little curious to what this was about. It wasn't like it happened all the time. Gohan apprehensively followed him up the scaffolding at the front of the building that led to the boss's office overlooking the whole area. Once inside Sam motioned the boy to take a sit. "Coffee?"

"That would be great. Thanks." Gohan said trying not to get ahead of himself as to why he was there. Taking off his warn work gloves and stuffed them into his back pocket just as Sam hand him a cup of coffee. "Not the greatest, but it will warm you up. How have you been?"

"Good." He lied. Sam knew all too well things weren't. He just had to see his split lip to know that. He had seen too many boys come threw his doors with the same heart aching story, but Gohan struck him as descent fellow, a good kid that had it bad. Knowing Mark Collins as he did he knew all too well what life at home would be like for the boy. It didn't help seeing the constant unexplained bruises on the kid.

"Here�s the deal kid. I'm looking for good hands to help me get that shipment out and it could take another few week before were back on schedule.... so if you're willing. I'll pay you extra for another few hours a night. I know how that beast of your cost you in fuel so what do you say?"

Gohan couldn't believe his luck. Extra money wasn't something he could turn a blind eye to. Ever since he started driving the Chevy it's been up to him to pay for its upkeep. It almost felt like his. That's if the old man didn't open his mouth and destroy his fantasy each time. Reminding it was still his. As much as he loved the freedom of being on the road it was costing him.

Almost speechless with excitement Gohan abruptly stood spilling his hot coffee onto to his jeans, a slight flinch, burning. Even so he extended his hand. "Count me in sir!" He chimed with a lopsided grin ignoring the pain. "Thank you! I promise to work extra hard."

Sam looked on concerned but smirked at the boy over enthusiasm. He watched Gohan desperately wipe the coffee from his denim clad thighs while still gripping his hand. Amused, "Okay-okay� Now go, and make yourself useful." He laughed.

Gohan did just that and hastily sprinted down the scaffolding with a new found zeal for work. It would be great to be able to have some extra cash to help with things.

.....

Tired and dirty Gohan climbed into the truck after the long shift. He wound downing the window trying to keep himself awake enough to drive back through the heavy mist that had settled over everything. It was a little past twelve when he pulled outside of his house. It was only then when he saw the porch light on that he realised that his father was excepting him home an two hour ago. Anxiously his eyes settled on the front door as he turned off the head lights and killed the engine.

Gnawing on his bottom lip as anxiety tightened around his heart. He was startled when the driver's door flung open and a large hand reached in and grabbed him by the shirt yanking him out. "What did I SAY?"

Arms raised ready to defence himself. "Daaaad LISTEN! S-Sam asked me to stay back!" He screamed as his father dragged him out from the cabin shoving the boy against the truck.

"You expect ME to believe THAT? You little shit! Get inside before I break ever bone in your body!" With that he shoved Gohan forward. Stumbling unable to get his legs to work as his father pushed him up the stairs.

"Get inSIDE!" Mark barked. Pushing him on, not giving him the chance to find his legs causing him to stumble and fall in the hallway. He heard the front door slam shut behind him.

The dogs out in the streets were barking he was sure his old man had woken up the whole neighbourhood. Not for the first time since they had moved there. "Get upSTAIRS! And if I find out you're lying through your teeth AGAIN. I'll whip you so hard... you won�t be able to stand for weeks! NOW get upstairs!"

....

Behind his bedroom door, he collapsed to the floor with a heavy heart, hot tears blurred his vision. Until they spilled and trailed a damp path down his anguished and tortured face. The heartache he felt within him was suffocating. It twisted and tightened inside his throat forming a suffocating lump. A violent shudders racked through him. It felt as if someone had gotten a knife and stabbed him until he could no longer bleed. Days, weeks, months, now years. It was all growing very weary too much to carry on his young shoulders in utter silence. With no one to hear his pleas or hold him and tell him everything would be okay.

No one left to care a dam about him.

Unable to breathe, his hands fisted yanking at his hair angrily pulling at it. He was angry at himself, angry at whatever gods that played this sick game in alowed him to survive, when his mother hadn�t. Unable to see through the watery haze, jaw clenched not willing to let his father know just how much he was hurting inside. Not giving him the satisfaction of knowing what he had done. Hatred swelled inside him for allowing it to continue.

Hot tears streamed down his soaked face. Fists clenched unable to escape unable to find the will to go on. Pain was what he hungered for. A war raged inside of him. His body and mind screamed for action, but something kept holding him back. He felt weak, vulnerable and he hated feeling that way.

Wiping away the tears, that felt as if they had burned a path down his face. He looked numbly through the haze. So very tired, his body ached, sore all over, inside and out, emotionally drained. Reaching into his pocket and pulled out a small pocket knife. It was like a flame that he couldn't drag his sights from the sharp edge. It was like it was calling for him, telling him it was the only way, an escape. Bloodlust seemed to faintly let its self known. Like a moth trapped he was drawn to it. His mind numb of any rational thought.

Shakily uncaring he raised it to his wrist. Drained of any emotion, no real thought only the desire for it to all to go away, for it all to stop as he brought it down. His eyes slammed shut savouring the feel as it pierced his skin. It was only then did it bring him back in an instantly to life.

The first real feeling since he came home. Mesmerised by it all, the way the crimson burst bubbled through the surface. It had an oddly calming effect about it. But it only lasted a brief second as he watched it trail and spill onto his shirt and jeans making a mess, getting out of hand, sobering him back in an instant.

Blinking into consciousness once the full impact of what he did hit him, slowly realisation of what he had done. In a state of panic he scrambled to his feet pulling his shirt over his head he quickly wrapped his wrist around and around the open wound.

Pressing hard down on the open wound, cursing for being so stupid, willing it to stop bleeding, �Ohh nooo...�

Turning to his bedroom door he wondered if he dared venture out there knowing his father was still lurking downstairs somewhere. Peeking out from his room like a small child, not wanting to get caught.

Anxious to get across the hall to the bathroom in the hope he could clean it all up, and correct what he had done. Quietly he snuck out of his room and saw the coast was clear. His eyes turned to the bathroom a few step away and wondered when his home had turned into a prison.

Quickly he took the steps he needed to get in the bathroom and quietly closed the bathroom door partway as he turned the tap on just enough not to make a noise. There he watched as the blood spilled turning the water crimson as it spiralled before disappearing all together down the drain.

Rummage through the cabinet behind the mirror, something that could cover up the evidence.

Finally finding something he could use. Seeing it wasn't as bad as he first feared, but it still wasn't good. He went about cleaning it up and binding his wrist good and tight. Desperately praying he won't need stitches because, right now, there was no way in hell he was going to hospital.

He kept asking himself how stupid could he be? Why did he allow himself to get to this stage?

Once it was all cleaned up Gohan went about covering up any evidence of it ever happening. He picked up his bloodstained t-shit to dispose of it, peeking through the door relieved that he had got this far without been found out.

That night lying on his bedcovers in the middle of the night with his bandaged wrist resting carefully on his stomach, with a slight throbbing sensation. Listening to the droning of the TV downstairs thinking how close he had come to joining his mother. Closing his eyes exhausted. He could only hope one day he could escape from this place away from his dad, away from Heyfield. Rolling over and hugging his pillow he fell into a restless sleep.

....

Elsewhere in the dead of the night with an explosive light a time pod appeared out of nowhere. In the grounds of Capsule Corp there was the hissing sound as the hutch of the glass dome lifted revealing its only occupant.

A tall figure emerged with his long lavender hair tied back reviling intelligent blue eyes that scanned his surroundings.

Unlike his home this one was still intact. Filled with hope he leaped out and touched the ground with a light elegance and grace. He was a statue of an immense force that was confined to only a few in the known universe that could match its own legacy.

"And who are you?" Vegeta asked hovering and landing a few feet away in front of the stranger. Arms folded looking his usually royal gruff self.

"It's me, Mirai Trunks."

"Who...?"

TBC �
A/N: A BIG thanks goes to my editor Vegeta-sire ;)

Thanks for reading ;)
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Crossroads