Welcome to Boxer & Rice

It's been too long since the last time I walked these halls. I can't believe the nostalgia, the overwhelming sense of reminiscence...

...of ghosts...

It's been so long...the sterility of life, the death of medication. Last I was here, it was a joyous occasion.

Last I was here, a new member of the family was born.

Goten.

My new baby brother.

My new reason to succeed.

Goten....

And I think it somewhat sad to be here, again, because of him.

"Goten..."

The coffee tastes the same as it did the last time, though now I think my appreciation for it is somewhat more...sophisticated.

The floor still carries the sheen of that dull, dusky grey of neutrality, accented with the dark greens and murky reds of 'liveliness' they think that Moorish splash of colour will create.

Kami-sama...the squeal of gurneys, the shuffle of soles, the flip of the charts...

Congratulations Son-kun! It's a boy!
Sugei!
Mm-hm! Would you like to see him?
Hai!

And to think, I was that close to being a medical student.

"Code 10, ICU. Code 10, ICU."

I look up to the intercom as if it's talking to me, personally. I hear the beeps and flinch; I want to be in there so badly, to see what's happening, to let him know I'm still here...but I know I'll only get in the way again.

And I don't want to be like Okaasan...

"Kami..."

I watch the doctors rush in, the nurse trailing behind them slows to a respectable pace and throws me a sympathetic smile. I know her. She's been the one person who's seen us every time we made our midnight visits for the past five months.

I know her, and yet I can never remember her name. Her stethoscope always obscures the tag.

And I guess I'm usually too busy with Goten to ask her for it again.

"Iiiieeee!!!"

Instinct pulls me to my feet, and I'm at the door, ready to push it open. It's not the first protest I've heard come from his room, but it's the loudest one to date. Kami save me...how I even let this happen to begin with, I don't know...I mean, we were so careful! We did everything right! No one knew! And it was all going so well...

"GO-han! GOHAN!"

My muscles tense. I want so, so badly to be there with him, but I...I can't. Son Gohan always does what he's told, ne? Always does what's best for those around him, always knows when to fight or flee...

Even now.

I turn to see the machinery coming my way, and quickly find my seat on the opposite wall once more, jumping back from the door as if afraid I'd been caught peeking in the oven before dinner was ready.

They drive the cart through the double doors, the volume of his call rising and fading with each swing of the hinged partition as friction slows the wax and wane of rubber against plastic.

"Doctor Ako, room 291. Doctor Ako, room 291."

The same reaction as before, though I know it's not meant for us at all. We're not even on that floor.

I pick up the discarded cup, swirling the dregs of coffee-coloured plasticine as something to occupy my mind, but it doesn't last long before his cries ring through to the hall once more.

"Yamero! YAMERO!! GOHAN! Onegai! NNNNnnngggghh....!"

I wince with him. I know it's time. I know what's happening.

I tried to explain to them that whatever they were going to give him to dull the pain, they were going to need a lot of it. Whatever they were going to do to him, he'd be able to feel it if they didn't up the dosage to at least double, if not more.

I knew what was best.

They didn't listen.

As usual.

Hn.

I hear the crash of metal on linoleum, and do everything in my power not to stand. It's not my place to intervene.

Damn, I feel like Dende.

The footfalls draw my attention, and I watch with pursed lips as two more nurses run into the room. I sneeze at the thick scent that blows back at me from beyond the swinging doors.

Blood.

So they've finally started. It won't be too much longer now, ne?

I sit back in the slick plastic cup designed, no doubt, in some foreign country and brought here at an attempt to 'modernize' these dreary halls--only to succeed in sending you sliding forward onto the floor.

Trust the dependability of industrial design to promote comfort in one's time of need, ne?

"GO...hanNnnnn..."

It's no good. I'm usually so adept at blocking out the problems and cries for help of those around me...but...never mind. It's not working. Nothing seems to be working.

"Hold him! Keep him still!!"

His ki spikes, and I know I flash gold for only a second. You don't fuck with my friends or family.

Not unless you want to take a trip to the next dimension. I hear Hell is rather nice this time of year.

I feel cold, clammy. I wipe at my brow with the back of my hand, a gesture I picked up from who-knows-where.

Oh wait.

I do know.

Trunks.

Hmn.

Well then. Not that it changes anything, but I guess it's nice to know.

Another cry brings me to the door again, and it would be so easy for me to push it open, to just walk right in there....

I get smacked in the face with it as some one runs out, and press myself to the wall to avoid another reprimand for my rebellious thoughts. Nursing my aching nose, I sit back down again, trying to release the energy jumping through my system by tapping my foot.

I stop when I realize the vibration has driven my beverage to the floor, and I hope no one has seen the spill, or my embarrassment.

Or thought there was an earthquake.

Running a hand through my hair, I bend to wipe at the splatter, thanking my foresight for grabbing as many napkins as I did.

...Gohan...

It's the first time in almost a month he's called to me like that. I thought he was bitter, maybe even angry, and that was the reason he'd closed himself off, but I never really...asked him....

Aishetaru, Gohan-koi...

I freeze, my ability to blink taking precedence over the breath I've decided to hold in Pavlovian response to his voice. Kami forgive me if he's not all right....

I stuff the drenched paper into the foam cup, and rise to stand uncertainly in the middle of the hall.

"IIE!"

Another crash.

A rise in ki.

Someone screams.

I hear a thump, like a body falling.

A little light above the door suddenly comes on, blinking an irritated red at being awoken. Two figures run out as two others careen around the corner, carrying armloads of material. Sheets? Towels? Gauze...?

The doors swing easily for their entrance, the scents of anxiety, anger, and blood replacing and reinvigorating the stagnant air of the hall I've called my home for the past three days.

Goten...onegai...

This isn't fair. Why it had to happen like this, I'll never know. I mean, first he's ill and then...

Dammit!

Fuck you! Fuck you 'tousan! You who just HAD to go away after Namek exploded and TRAIN! If you had come home--if you had at least told us SOMETHING! Prepared us in some way...!

...if...if you hadn't chosen training in space over your family...you would have never gotten sick...

...HE would have never gotten sick...

I...I just don't know what to do...

I mean, I think, at one point, I did, but now...if he'd only never gotten ill...if we had never done...what we did...Kami-sama save me.... I don't want to play the blame game with this. I don't want anyone angry, or upset, or afraid, or depressed...I...I just want everyone to be...happy...like we all used to be....

Like when we were all ignorant.

There were no aliens. There was no Vegeta. No Vegeta-sei. No Namek. No arguments...no fighting, no whining, no cursing, no divorces, no more dying, no more tears, no Maajin, no Cell, no Satan, no Androids, no Garlic, no hate...

...no us...

Otousan would go fishing at the lake.

Okaasan would cook dinner.

I would study.

Maybe, when Okaasan would go out shopping, Otousan would teach me to spar, and we'd smile and tell her I studied and Dad had chopped wood, and that we couldn't wait for dinner because we worked hard and loved her cooking.

And then I'd have a baby brother--someone to play with and teach things to and then Otousan and I would show you how to fight and fish and hunt and gather wood for the fire and protect our house from thieves and predators....

And someone I could go to school with, or go talk to, or go out with...someone to save me from 'kaasan's seemingly endless line of possible dates and fiancées...

Someone I could love, someone I could care for, someone I could protect....

"Doctor Kien, Doctor Takana, ICU. Doctor Kien, Doctor Takana, ICU."

...someone I could fall in love with...

...but...

Something tells me the situation might have turned out the same either way.

Destiny or doom. As long as I have you, they're both like heaven.

The shriek of abused hinges pull my head from my hands, and I can barely see the silent forms wearily shuffle by through my misted vision. I wipe the tears from my eyes and straighten myself, determined to put the best foot forward, no matter the end result. Sitting back, I watch the morbid procession of smudged and smeared coats and coverings peeled away as the occupants of the only room that exists, exit.

And the red light falls back to sleep.

Too tired to notice, or too respectful to acknowledge, they ignore my presence, trudging by as if my incessant spying and harping hasn't even occurred.

I know I annoyed them, but someone please...look me in the eye. Let me kill the hope before it gets too strong...

"Gohan-san."

I stand at the familiar summons, instinct bowing my head slightly before the man I seem to owe everything to, time and again. "Hai, Trunks-san." I inch past the last of the neatly pressed uniforms to stand before the man I'd been waiting to hear from all day.

He bites his lower lip as he unties his smock, his brow knit in concentration. "Gomen nasai, Chibi," his voice is low to mask our familiarity, "we didn't mean to keep you in the dark all day."

I nod. "I understand, Trunks. I survived." Just barely.

He chuckles. "I noticed."

"We both did."

Trunks' double image comes up behind him, wiping his hands on a pinkened piece of terry. Again I bow. "Konbanwa, Trunks-kun." He smiles.

"I know you have other ways of telling us apart, Gohan-san," he removes his cap, shaking his mop of pale purple in relief, "so you can drop the formalities." There it is--the wipe to his forehead. He winks, noticing my gaze. I fidget.

"Gomen na, Trunks..." I shift my stare, "Trunks."

Stripping out of his gown, Mirai sobers. "Do you think you're ready, Chibi?"

His look sets my heart on edge, and I can hear it pulsing in my ears. I close my eyes and swallow, their faces working to prepare me for the worst. I run a hand over my face and rake the fingers through my hair.

I will see this through.

I can deal with it, positive or no.

I can live with this, good or bad.

I can...Kami-sama...

I grow cold at the sight...the blood soaked linens...the dismal footprints littering the floor...

I can't help the cringe at the putrid smell of seared flesh and congealing blood.

The hand on my shoulder jerks me to the now, eyes too blue to be human showing their sympathy to my cause. "It actually...looks worse than you think it is, Go-kun. Trust us."

"Have we ever let you down, Gohan...?" I turn to the echo and my eyes widen at the scene before me.

"Goten..."

Reckless in my abandon, I hurry toward the bed, aware only in my peripheral of the taller prince's fiddling. "Goten...Kami-sama...Go-chan..." He's so pale, so silent, so...peaceful...so...

"Asleep."

I spare Trunks the smallest glance, and lean down to kiss the forehead of the boy I haven't seen in days.

"He's fine, Gohan." I rise, turning to look at the slim figure leaning nonchalantly against the rail of the bed. "There were some problems, but--"

"What problems? What happened? Was it his heart? Will he be alright? Is that what too--"

"Chibi."

I pivot almost instantly, heart beating even faster with anticipation. I see smiling cerulean advancing and when I decipher it's secret, I almost fall.

"Congratulations, Go-kun. It's a boy."

"...sugei..." I blink at the familiarity of it all, my knees quaking with the excitement and reprieve I've done my damndest to repress this last week.

"Would you like to see him...?"

Instinct drives my hesitant arms forward to accept the silent bundle from him. "H...hai..." I answer softly, praying to every god I've ever had the honour of meeting that I never wake from the warmth of this dream.

"Goten will be fine. He'll wake up sore--and knowing him probably hungry, but fine."

I grin like the baka my father always was, unable to do anything more.

My ability to multi-task has just gone out the window.

I feel myself being guided away from my koi, but...I'm so...enthralled by the parcel I hold, our distance doesn't seem as far as it has been. Sitting, I see the blanket pulled back from his face, and the crooked smile I've taken to sporting widens, signaling the tears to start again.

But this time, I don't mind as much.

"Definitely a Son, no doubting that."

"Hai, just look at him...."

I grin my father's grin for the two prince's attending me, not even attempting to thank them for all they've done. They know. They say as much with their eyes.

Kami-sama...the hair, the cheeks...the fingers curled into themselves...

"He looks just like your brother." I agree dumbly, reliving that day when I finally got to see 'niichan for the first time, remaining honest in my promise never to forget.

Then or now.

"Gohan-san."

I can't stop looking at him. He's so small, so...light.

He fidgets, tiny nose wrinkling in his fit.

Sugoku kawaii...

"Go-kun..." I nod vaguely in response. "We've done what you asked." I stare blankly at one Trunks and get answered by another.

"His tail." Oh. He's still got it. "He's still got it." I smile, gaze drifting down to the little one in my arms and sigh.

Right now, at this very moment, life...is good.

I hear the paradox of twin princelings whisper their farewells as they tread wearily away, leaving my incoherent form to rest in the room I've diligently defended for the last 76 hours.

Good Kami-sama. This is a better bonus than paid leave.

I shake the idle thoughts of work away as I draw one shaky finger along the slight jaw of my...

Kami! I can't say it! I mean, he's my...

He's mine.

I snuff the tears back into place, standing on reinforced legs, my goal in sight, my resolve set in stone.

Goten.

Moving confidently toward the bed in the very center of the room, I realize I've been subconsciously rocking my diminutive burden and only smile at the instinctual action.

I used to do it to Goten when he was a chibi.

My cheeks ache from the strain all this damn smiling has put on my muscles, but I...don't care. Sliding to sit on the bed before me, I snake a subtle limb out to encircle the ringed hand of my placid lover.

"Yatta." I know the whisper falls silent to him, but I can't leave him be any longer. "Yatta, Go-chan. Look what we've done--look what we've made." His pallid pretense remains inert, but I swear to Kami I see a smile. I blink my vision free of anything that may obscure that lovely face of my baby brother and plant a grateful kiss to his angelic visage.

"Aishetaru, Goten-koi."

I nuzzle the weightless parcel snoozing soundly against my chest and sigh, the tension and fatigue that wore heavily on my neck and shoulders falling away with every light rise of my lover's chest. Drawing one leg up onto the mattress, I sit and wait for the messenger that will surely wake me from this delight, but for now...I've got everything I could ever ask for.

My lover by my side. My boy...my...s...

My...son...in my arms.

My heart in heaven.