Crossroads

Rewritten...

Rating: MA

Warning: DARK FIC ; Homosexual relationships, coarse language, violence, censored scenes, attempted suicide, drugs, alcohol, male-pregnancy ( maybe ), alternate reality, out of character and this can go on...

The old saying applies: don’t like / don’t read!

Pairings Mirai Trunks / Son Gohan

Beta: Vegeta-sires

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ nor am I making any profit from writing this.

"Crossroads"

Chapter 1

Dressed like any other teenager boy of sixteen - worn jeans black t-shirt sneaks with his favourite baseball cap pulled low, but looking more confused than ever. Reading an old pamphlet he had taken from the window of an old Service Station after paying for his fuel.

It was for a reward on any information on a Son Chichi. He couldn't understand it. It looked like a young photo of his mother, but she wasn't a Son she was a Collins. The date of the women disappearance coincided with in the year he was born. His dark eyes turned to the phone number at the bottom of the pamphlet. It told him that whoever had been looking for her must have lived at West city which was a full day's drive away.

"Hey Gohan, come on man it's getting late." Sharpener yelled from the passenger side of an old Chevy pick-up with a huge floral design couch tied down in the back.

Smiling, he folded the leaflet before quickly shoving it in his pocket for later reference, . "What's your rush?"

"I just want to get this back home. Angie is supposed to be ringing me this afternoon." Sharpener explained anxiously watching his friend approach the truck.

Gohan laughed sprinting around the front to the driver's side. "Do you even know how we're going to get it up those stairs of yours?" he asked opening the door and climbing in.

"I have no idea." Sharpener said looking over his shoulder at the massive couch his mother had found advertised in the paper. She had asked him to see if Gohan could help them pick it up. They had left early that Sunday just so they could get back before dark. It had belonged to an old lady who was selling up the family farm. It was a bargain but Gohan still had reservations on how they were going to even get it up into Sharpener's mother's apartment or even if it would fit.

During the long drive home Gohan's mind wandered back to the leaflet that he had found at the service station. The similarities between his mother and that young lady were uncanny. By the time they pulled up outside of his friend's home it was getting close to dark. He was glad they had left early or they would be still on the road.

"You're here finally!" Helen cheered as she hurried down the stairs of the apartment building with Sharpener's little sister Mel not far behind.

Sharpener and Gohan both climbed out of the truck and started untying the rope that held it all in place. "You're lucky we even found the place mum." Sharpener grumbled catching the rope Gohan tossed over to him.

Helen came up to her tall son and hugged him tight. "You're welcome sweetie." She purred sarcastically. Sharpener rolled his eyes as Gohan lowered the tailgate.

"Okay, let's do this." Gohan said tugging at the giant couch dragging it from the truck with his friend's help. Helen and Mel hurried back up the stairs to make sure everything was out of the way for the two teenage boys. It was an effort for both boys to squeeze it around the stairwell to the third floor. They were both exhausted by the time they reached the door. Gohan wiped the sweat from his brow with the bottom of his t-shirt. He turned his tired dark eyes to his friend. "You ready?" He asked.

"No. I lost my strength down on the second floor." Sharpener complained. Gohan smirked he was in no better condition. They both pushed until it was up under the window where Helen wanted it. Both boys collapsed back on it with the young mother admiring her new couch that was so much better and bigger than her last one.

Mel climbed onto Gohan's lap carrying her doll. Blinking tired he forced himself to open his eyes looking down at the little girl, smiling. "Hey squirt." He affectionately said sounding out of breath.

"Hello Gohan." Mel chirped happily oblivious as to how exhausted the two boys were. "You like my new dolly?"

Gohan picked up the plastic doll with its long green hair and raised a questionable brow as he looked at the unusual colouring. "Green hair, huh?"

"Uh uh. It used to be blonde but I think it looks better green. I washed it with some of mummy's food dye " The little girl explained. Gohan turned to Sharpener who just shrugged his shoulders. He has long given up trying to work out his five year old sister anymore. She was just strange as far as he was concerned. She was a girl after all.

Gohan handed back the doll as Helen entered the room again. This time she handed both boys a cold soda. "Here you go." She said cheerfully.

Grateful "Thanks." They said simultaneously.

"You're staying for tea?" Helen asked the boy hopefully.

She had quickly warmed to him from the very first day her son brought him home three years ago. Gohan was a very private person but Helen knew his home life wasn't the greatest with a father like Mark Collins. He was a beast of a man that she had no time for and would do everything in her power to keep Gohan away from him.

Shaking his head Gohan explained. "I can't, sorry."

Disappointed. "Well maybe another time then." She said sitting down on the arm of the one remaining worn single chairs. Keen to hear the boys to tell her about their day's adventure. This lasted another hour before Gohan insisted that he had to really go. Sharpener walked him down and out to where the Chevy was parked.

"Thanks for helping us out."

"Hey, it's cool. I'd best go. I'll see you in the morning then."

"Yeah, but do you mind if Mel comes with us. Mum has an early shift at the hospital and can't get her to school."

"No that's fine. Well I'd better let you go or you'll miss Angie." He grinned knowing how his friend was really into that girl. He waved as he pulled away from the curb and headed down the street. Sharpener and him lived only a few blocks apart from each other. But instead of taking a left that would lead him back home, Gohan continued on ahead towards Heyfield's only lookout up on Crow's Nest Mountain. It was his favourite place to be since he had got his driver's license at sixteen.

It was a pleasant enough drive with the thick tall woodlands closing on all sides around him. He climbed steadily higher up and onto the mountain peak. He needed some time alone just to think. Gohan shifted so he could pull out a smoke from his pocket. Pressing it between his lips he reached over and grabbed the truck's lighter and quickly inhaling the pleasant smoke.

His dark eyes watched the road until he saw the little dirt track that would take him down a more secluded part of the lookout. It was too difficult for cars to go down, but not for him. Anything too low to the ground would only bottom out in places. His father's old Chevy could get him just about anywhere. The road was rough and only got worse the closer he got to his destination. Just up ahead he could see a clearing he being looking for. Placing the smoke between his lips as he rolled the truck to where he wanted it parked, overlooking the whole of Heyfield with all its glittering streetlights that mapped out its dizzy roads below.

Climbing out and stepped up onto the bumper bar so that he could perch himself on the bonnet of the old truck and gazed at the view. Leaning forward, resting his arms on his knee while flicking the ash from his cigarette and scanned the area with his mind wandering back to the leaflet he had accidentally come across that day. Leaning back with the cigarette back pressed between his lips he retrieved the Pamphlet from his front pocket.

Taking a good look over it once more, there was no doubt in his mind this was his mother. The woman in the photo even wore the same bangle he remembered his mother wearing all the time. What did this mean? His mother never talked about her past.

"Not like I can remember a lot." Gohan thought out loud his voice laced with pain. It had been years since his mother was killed on that fateful night.

Staying up there on the mountain thinking until Gohan knew he couldn't put off going home any longer. He knew his father would be waiting and what was going to happen next...

.....

Pulling up outside his place he saw the living room light on and knew that he was expected. He willed his body to stay calm while subconsciously his fingers were nervously brushing lightly over a silver chain his mother had made especially for him. It was supposedly to protect him but since her death it had done little of that, but he would never give it up for the world.

Quietly he stepped out of the truck wearing his baseball cap lowered over his eyes and warily took in his surroundings. Gohan closed the door locking it and pocketed the keys. He guardedly moved around the front of the Chevy towards the porch.

Stretching out his arm to open the door only to have it abruptly swung open for him and a large hand reached out grabbing him in a tight hold.

"Gotchya!"

Next minute he was shoved face first into the wall of the hallway. He was unable to move, trapped as his father's weight pressed him roughly into the wall. His arm was pushed up high between his shoulders blades making him wince in pain. Gohan's eyes slammed shut as his father add pressure causing him to cry out.

"Did you think you could sneak past ME?" His father growled, his hot alcoholic breath piercing his ear.

Shaking his head, no which only made his father even more irate as he was swung around with a solid punch under the ribs.

His knees buckled under him as he quickly sank to the floor clutching at where his father had made his point. He bit down hard on his lip to refrain from making any sound. Dark eyes through the haze of pain watched as his father towered over him. "Dad-"

"You little SHIT! Where have you been all weekend, HUH? You're a coward if you think you can hide from me! That's what you are! Say it! Go on and SAY IT!"

"DAD pleeeease… don't…Argggg...!" Gohan found himself clasping to the ground on all fours while trying protect himself. Unable to control the sobbing that racked through him with each painful blow that rained down hard on him from above, fast and furious.


"You're nothing more than a COWARD!" Mark Collins bellowed. Grabbing a fistful of his son's hair he yanked it back hard so that he could get a better look at the boy's face, those hot fresh tears Gohan desperately tried to stop. "Pathetic!" He spat. "Get to your ROOM!" Through the burning haze of piercing pain he watched his father's back disappear up the stairs cursing as he did.

Gohan struggled to his knees, before collapsing back against the wall for support, trying to breathe without it feeling like his lungs were on fire. It felt like his rib was broken but he knew his father wasn't that dumb. Well he had hoped.

He touched his swollen lip tasting the blood. Not another slipt lip? How was he going to explain this one? He was quickly running out of excuses. From where he sat on the floor his bedroom looked a long way off, impossible to reach. Closing his eyes gathering up the strength it would take to climb the stairs. He didn't want to be there when his father returned. Gingerly Gohan crawled over to the banister for support. Steadying himself he climbed to his feet clutching his bruised ribs.

Glancing up to see how far he had to go before he would reach the top of the stairway. Taking it slowly, each painful step reminded him of how much he hated his father. Finally he found himself in the sanctuary of his room and quickly and quietly closed the door behind him. He let himself slide to the floor and tried to catch his breath and desperately tried to shake the images from his mind of the events moments ago.

Head hung low he ran his fingers though his dark unruly hair pushing it back only to have it fall forward covering his dark solemn eyes. Sniffling he wiped the remainder of his tears from his face, frowning trying to keep his emotions in check. Angry at himself, angry for feeling so weak, for crying and not being able to stop, especially in front of his old man the way he did.

Lifting up his shirt to inspect the damage, he saw the reddish dark blue marks that were now tattooed over his adolescent flesh. By tomorrow he was going have a tough time trying to pretend that they didn't exist under his shirt. Climbing to his feet and carefully peeling off his t-shirt before tossing it carelessly into the far corner with the rest of the mound of washing.

Life at home wasn't a bed of roses. No, not for him it wasn't. Life was far removed from those glossy family shows he had seen over the years on the TV. When he was younger he would pray that he could escape into to one of those shows. What it would be to have two loving parents that would love him and take care of him, but it was all a pack of lies. There was no such thing out there, well not for him.

This was his reality and there was no amount of praying that was going to change it for him. This was the hand that fate had dealt him and he had to make the most of it and maybe, just maybe, one day his ticket would come in and only then would he be able to escape from this place he calls home.

TBC...

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

Hi guys ;)

Sorry about the size of the chapter... I’m in the middle of rewriting this story. It’s being sitting in my file since 2006. I haven’t got the heart to delete it so I thought I would finish it. Though, I’m making some small changers here and there, cutting the size of each chapter... It helps my editor and I’m able to post a little faster.

I hoped you liked it so far ;)