The Story of Us
~ seven years later ~

co- written by djFusion and Kinomi

The sun is shining over the far off Pouzu Mountains. As with every other day, the view from up here is breathtaking. An absolute perfection of a day, although I have to admit that the ledge I'm standing on right now gives a particular advantage over everywhere else. Up here, nine stories above everything and standing on the very edge of my balcony is my new favorite place to think.

Even just catching a hint of the fresh summer in the breeze vividly reminds me of home in a way few things can. This is the kind of day that makes me want to run through the fields near my parent's house like I used to as a kid. Or catch fish in the lake like I used to do with Gohan before he went away to college, or in the same stream my father fished in when he was my age. It never occurred to me when I was younger that I would miss all of that as much as I do now.

Because I've had so much time to think about things over the past seven years since my life completely changed, I've finally grown to understand why Trunks used to think it was so great that I got the chance to live out in the middle of nowhere when he always had to live in a city. I could never understand that. I always thought living in the countryside was so boring compared to the big, hi-tech house Trunks got to live in. It never occurred to me what a cage a city can be to a Saiyan.

Trunks knew better from an early age. He lived in West City his whole life, where you can't do anything without drawing attention to yourself. On top of that, he grew up with constant pressure from his father to become who he was born to be in a place he couldn't. In a job he couldn't. In a whole life built for him by his mother that he didn't belong in. Granted, Trunks adapted pretty well to the lifestyle he was handed, whether he wanted it or not, but it had it's price. He lived with more tension and stresses than I've ever had. I might have been the hyper one as a kid, but Trunks was constantly strained by a restlessness he could never satisfy.

But I lived in the country, where I was allowed to be Saiyan all the time, even though I still had to endure the occasional lecture about 'trying to make the effort to act more human' from my loving mother. Deep down, I knew both my parents just wanted me to be myself... whoever I would someday turn into, but I was too ashamed to tell them the truth. To tell them about me and Trunks, even though - deep down - I knew they would have understood if I told them.

The very definition of irony.

Once we were together on our own, nothing changed like we thought it would. We just got used to hiding the only things left about us that made us so different. Trying to be two regular, everyday guys living in the city and pretending to be like everyone else. Sometimes it was just lying to a new girlfriend. Or to our parents. Making yet another excuse as to why we were still living together. Coming up with more and more stupid loopholes to justify to ourselves what we were doing, the Saiyan in us starting to disappear. The desire to fight and train, to share our bodies with each other and act on instincts... they became things so far away from where we had put ourselves, it was hard to remember how things used to be.

We spent so much effort resisting the simplest things we needed. I needed Trunks. He needed me. But out there in a city that could never truly understand us, the simplest solutions can be the most complicated to make.

Live with tension like that for long enough and it can drive a person to do stupid things.

Not until after we fucked up everything we possibly could have and we were absolutely forced to remove ourselves from anything that could interfere - left alone with nothing but the reality of our evolution - were we able to admit and accept what we had become. For just a second, I finally let go and listened to my heart. To see Trunks as more than the boy I had been best friends with for longer than my memories could take me. Who had been at my side for the best and worst times of my life. My blood brother. The other half of my memories. The other half of my soul. My life.

And finally... we weren't afraid let it happen.

The last chapter of our story. The bitter, fucking end.

As quickly as the memories come back to me, a thick cloud of smog and pollution smothers my senses and drags me back to the present. Looking as if I'm probably about to take a flying leap off the edge of my own balcony, all though my ability to defy gravity cuts out any risk of my becoming a part of the pavement below. Besides, I've always had pretty good balance.

But even up here, with this amazing view and an endless, open sky in front of me, I feel like that bird who's completely outgrown the cage. There's too much in me that feels trapped now that I remember what it feels like to be free, but I've learned from my mistakes, and I know I can remember how to listen to my heart again.

My life has little resemblance to the way it was before. I have a son to take care of now. A strong, powerful son who I can't even teach to transform yet, or to control and focus his ki because there isn't any safe place to do it in a city. There's so much tension in him already. I can see it in his eyes.

And Marron.

Marron.

Marron.

She gave up everything for me when I was the one who once promised to take care of her, never asking anything of me or anyone, even when she really needs it. Almost completely on her own, she's picked up the pieces and gotten her life back together when I couldn't. Marron's barely twenty-seven now. I was still a broken piece of nothing at twenty-nine, and here she is, raising our son with so much love and patience, despite the fact that he can sometimes be too much for her to handle.

She makes everything work out. The glue that's keeping all of us together. I don't know what I would do without her.

...Which may be the reason why I've been giving so much thought lately to exactly who I am. Or should I say who I've become.

This time, I won't make the same mistake.

From where I stand, I can hear Marron inside, scolding Toran for something or other, which knowing our son he richly deserves. The slide of the balcony door closing cuts off Marron's raised voice a moment before Toran runs out to mirror my posture next to me and he stares up at the clouds. Not daring to come up to the ledge, he knows better - he still has to work on his flying.

I glance over for a second and smile. There's flour all over the front of his shirt, no doubt from whatever Marron's been making in the kitchen. Or was making in the kitchen.

Rather than looking upset that he's received a hell of a tongue lashing from his mother, I can see out of the corner of my eye that he's grinning. That same mischievous, conniving smile that always graced Trunks' lips when we caused trouble. And I know.

"Why do you do that to her?" I ask him without drawing my focus away from the mountains, already suspecting the answer. Toran's always been quite the handful, but I've never had a problem dealing with our son because I understand him. I secretly cherish that little stubborn side of him because it is the Trunks in him shining through. But he still can be a lot for Marron to deal with sometimes. She's tough, but her son is part Saiyan. Not really much of a contest there.

He shrugs. "I dunno…" Typical seven-year-old logic. "It's fun. She can yell even louder than Grandma, have you noticed?" he asks me.

I don't have to ask which Grandmother he's referring to. I know he means my mother. He calls his other grandmothers by their first names, Bulma at her insistence, and Eighteen because she looks more like an aunt than a grandmother.

Before I can give my disapproval for him baiting his mother for a reaction, I look over to see Toran's face grow serious, suddenly seeming older than seven.

"Dad, where's my real father?"

I blink. Real father? Where did that come from?

For the past seven years, he's never asked about this... even the obvious question about why he has three sets of grandparents while all the other kids in his school only have two. I don't want to give him answers he won't be able to understand, at least not until he's much older.

"Well, why do you ask?" I start, hiding my concern about how I'm going to respond to him.

Toran looks at the ground, fidgeting with his feet. "I know you told me you and Papa Trunks are both my dads, but I asked mom and she said my real dad left a long time ago. Did he leave because of me?"

This brings be down from the ledge.

"No, no. That's not it at all! Toran, your... your real father loved you very, very much..." I kneel down and put my hands on his shoulders, noticing how strong the muscles in his arms have been getting as I fight to sound strong in front of my son, still a little thrown from hearing a mention of Gotenks out of him. "He loves you more than anything. But even though he's gone, I want you to know... there will always be a part of him here with you. Always."

"Then... why doesn't he come back?"

That old, familiar ache in my chest again.

And another simple question so complicated to explain. I don't even know where to begin.

"Toran! Don't think you can hide from me out here, young man! Get back in here and clean this mess up!" I yell after sliding the balcony door open with more force than I probably needed to use. Having a child like Toran around has inadvertently been making me stronger.

I startle the both of them. But in the moment after finding my son out here with Goten, I realize there was a serious moment happening here before I went and interrupted it. My son suddenly looks so innocent, which is something he usually doesn't pull off very well, and by the way Goten was talking to him - eye to eye on his knees with such a concerned expression - I can tell this was something I might not be a part of.

"Oh, I... I didn't... mean to interrupt." I apologize, still trying to sound somewhat annoyed at my son.

"No, it's all right..." Goten says, looking back at Toran as he gives a rub to his shoulders. "We'll talk about this later, son. Okay?"

Toran just nods.

Without saying anything else to him, Goten stands up and gives Toran a pat on the back, sending him back into the apartment to leave us alone out on the balcony.

I wait until Toran's out of ear-shot before speaking.

"I'm sorry, Goten. I didn't know you were talking to him."

He plays it off, but I know something's jolted him. "It's okay. Really." He looks past over my shoulder to our son who I hope is in the kitchen washing up. Goten tries not to smile about it, knowing I'm not as amused about this as he is. "So, what happened this time?"

"Oh, nothing," I answer sarcastically. "Your son has just been spending his time lately using whatever he can get his hands on as weapons against the furniture. I think he's been more antsy today than usual." I take a deep, preparing breath, looking back over my shoulder to see my son standing on one of the stools around the center island, pushing off one counter and flipping over to land on another, wielding a spatula to fend off imaginary enemies. I swivel my head back to Goten without any surprise on my face. "Maybe we should get him out of this city this weekend. Go let him work some of this energy out of his system."

"... I know."

From inside, another big crash interrupts my thoughts.

I close my eyes. "Just tell me if he's at least okay?' I ask, not wanting to turn around to see what part of my kitchen has become his latest causality.

"Yeah, Toran's fine. But..."

"I don't want to know." I can already hear Goten trying not to laugh, and open my eyes to see my suspicions confirmed. For a second, I try to act pissed off that he finds this so damn funny, but in reality, I can't help but laugh with him.

Our son has been a handful.

Mind you, I'm sure most seven year olds wreck and ravage the houses they live in, too, but Toran is different for other reasons only obvious to his family. He has more energy than any other child I've ever met, and I'm starting to get mildly concerned about what he'll be like in a few years from now. His sheer strength is incredible; enough to where I can't even enroll him in some sort of activity group anymore because his body is clearly not developing at the same rate as other kids his age. He has actualdefined muscles that clearly don't look like they belong on the body of a seven-year-old boy. How do you explain that to the other mothers at the park who point and stare at him?

Well, at least he doesn't have a tail anymore.

But above all - without first noticing his immense power - Toran is not just some cute little kid who blends in with the rest of them, or a handsome little boy that you know will someday grow up to be some handsome young man. He's beautiful, and this is not just coming from the mouth of a usually very biased mother. Just the few times I've attempted to bring him to the playground in the West City Park it's been blatantly obvious that Toran is unique. Just his coloring - two toned black and aqua spiked hair, and crystal, vibrant blue eyes - make him more his father's son than I want to keep realizing every time I look at him.

I can't take him anywhere without people asking me questions about him or giving us strange looks, all of which I just have to lie about anyway.

And I know my son very well. I know he wants to be outside more than I can take him, but since bending the metal bars of the jungle gym at the park with his bare hands, there aren't many places I can take him anymore.

Even more difficult is the fact that he's begun practicing how to use his ki in the apartment more than he admits to, not that I really know much about that subject to know what is an experiment or what is what Goten's already taught him. Saiyan ki is much different than the energy my dad learned to use or the synthetic variety given to my mom, and once Goten showed Toran how to tap into it, it's been all he's wanted to do lately. I've forbidden him to use it indoors, since every time he does it means the end of another piece of furniture, but I know I won't be able to contain him forever.

About every other weekend, Goten takes him out of the city to visit his grandparents and Gohan's family in the country, and every time they come back, Toran always acts a little strange. Like the wild demons in him have been calmed for a while. Dende knows what they do out there, but I know Toran would want to do it all the time if they could. It's just too far to make the hour and a half commute as much as he would like.

But above all my concerns about Toran and being able to raise him right, I still find myself at night worrying about Goten. He has gotten stronger over the years, having regained most - if not all of the strength he lost after Trunks died. It took a few years, but eventually and ever so slowly, he started to come around, but still not back to the old Goten that I can hardly remember anymore. He's grown up; more mature than he used to be. There's so much history in his eyes now that I don't know about, and might never know, since for the most part, Goten can be pretty quiet these days.

I haven't dared asked him any questions. I don't think anyone has.

He thinks about the past a lot. I can tell. Like today, even before Toran ran out to the balcony to hide from me, Goten had been out there all afternoon, just staring out into nowhere. Just standing on that ledge again and scaring me half to death, but I can guess what it is he dwells on. I wonder sometimes if he's ever talked to Toran about his past. About he and Trunks? About... Gotenks? Especially now that I know our son has gotten to the age where the curiosity about such things is starting to set in. I know so little about who Gotenks really was; I used to think I had almost nothing to tell my son about his father.

But all of the qualities that I fell in love with that belonged to Gotenks, also belong to the man I still live with. The man I share a child with. Not metaphorically or adoptive. The same blood that runs through Goten's veins also runs through my son's. Goten is as much my son's father as Gotenks was.

Goten was the biggest part of Gotenks. I know that fact in my heart now, despite it being so hard to remember. And over the years, I've grown to see Goten for who he has become - the man I can't imagine not being here with us. With me. I need him.

Him. Not Gotenks. Goten.

And suddenly, more than ever, I want to finally let go of the past.

Him. Gotenks.

I can't get my mind off him.

In my desire to keep Trunks' memory alive in my son's eyes, I keep forgetting that the experience of his conception was very different for his mother. It's not like it's ever been spoken about around here.

She fell in love that night with the one person I should know better than anyone, but it's not that simple. She gave her heart and trust to that man. I know this because I was just as responsible for taking it away. I remember some of what happened that night we fused. But a lot of it - most of it - has been blurred over too much time to remember exactly how things happened.

I remember Marron that night, though. I remember her being happy. Not like I'd ever seen her, but a real, true happiness that has yet to come back since that night. And I was happy, but I was confused. We never wanted things to happen the way they did, but... they did. And now... we have a son.

But up until now, I've always thought of Toran's parents as being the three of us: Marron, Trunks, and myself. My version, I guess. It never occurred to me that Marron might have a different one. She still thinks about him. Remembers him. This whole time, she hasn't stopped loving him or wanting him any less. Wishing he were here for her son instead of me. And it makes me... jealous... in some kind of egocentric, convoluted way I can't even begin to explain.

I pause near the wall by the kitchen and watch Marron as she stands there looking out the window over the sink. Resting her chin on her hands. She doesn't look any different than she did a half hour ago when she made me a sandwich, but somehow - subtly - she's changed in my eyes...

I wonder for the first time what's put that dreamy and somewhat sad expression on her face as she rests it against her clasped hands. Is she thinking of him?Is that the reason she's here, in this house with Toran and I? Because of him? Because this place is the only thing she has left to hold on to him? The thought makes something in my chest hurt a little... though mostly because I can turn those exact same questions back at myself.

As I let my eyes roam over her beautiful face and slim body, her long, silken hair, I realize... I want her here for me. Not him.

She must have heard me as I shift minutely to lean against the wall, because her eyes drift over to mine. She doesn't smile at me in welcome like she usually does. Something in my expression must have caught her, like my change in perception of her has caught me... but as I look into her clear eyes it occurs to me - I know every inch of this woman except what lays in her heart. What goes on behind those beautiful blue eyes. Suddenly... I want to know. Very much.

"I was thinking," I say hesitantly, trying not to let my thoughts invade my words, "would you like to take a walk with me? To enjoy the weather? It's... just so beautiful outside today."

She turns to face me completely with her arms behind her back as she leans back against the countertop. Studying my motives for a moment as a simple smile graces her lips. It's not often either one of us makes an effort to spend time alone together. In fact, I can't remember when the last time was that we were together without Toran.

"Goten... I'd love to. But what about To-"

"We'll just drop him off at my parents house on the way."

Already, this is clearly more than the simple walk Marron thought I was talking about. She straightens up, questioning my sudden suggestion, but her doubt quickly turns to a smile.

"Well... just let me get ready."

As soon as we arrive at my parent's house after the long car ride there, we leave Toran with specific instructions not to get into any trouble while he stays with my folks. Pointless to tell him that, though, since my dad has no problem getting into as many kinds of trouble as Toran can, much to the perpetual disapproval of my mom.

We leave the little cluster of houses that stand alone in the nature surrounding them, and head down the hill towards the sun that is just starting to set between the Pouzu Mountains in front of us. Looking back, I wouldn't trade my childhood memories of living out here for anything. Every time I come out here, the memories get stronger. It's becoming more important to me that I give my son the same chance to have more of these memories, too.

I take Marron up past Gohan's tree with the notch cut out of it, and even past the stream that always has the biggest fish to catch. We walk for almost an hour in silence. Only taking in the scenery that hasn't changed at all since I've grown up in it. I can't say as much about myself.

Once we reach the foot of the cliff - the same one we can only see the top of from my parent's house - I offer my hand to help her up the near-vertical wall of rock in front of us. Normally, I wouldn't think to question Marron's strength. I would bet that if she were properly trained in martial arts, she could probably take on anyone without the Saiyan gene, including my sister-in-law, but this particular cliff isn't meant for just any human to climb.

She looks at my hand and laughs sarcastically at what I've implied. "Goten, I'm not climbing a cliff like this! I can't-"

"I don't remember saying I was going to climb it," I say bluntly, still giving her my hand.

Now I know Marron understands what I'm offering, and naturally, she's got some hesitation. But slowly, she gives me her hand, subconsciously telling me with a single look that it's taking a lot of trust in me to let me do this. She wraps her arms tightly around my neck and squeezes her eyes closed, preparing herself for something I now know she's obviously never experienced. I had always assumed her parents had flown with her before, but... I guess I was wrong.

"Well, there's always a first," I tell her.

And gently, I wrap my arm around her waist and push my energy downwards, lifting us off the ground as slowly as I can to not freak her out. Gradually, I can feel her vice-like grip lessening as I whisper in her ear for her to trust me. But it's only once we reach the top of the grassy cliff does she open her eyes and realize why I've taken her so far.

A tiny gasp escapes her, immediately commenting on how incredible the view is without anything to obstruct it like in the city. We've caught the most perfect point of the sunset, too, just as the sun turns to a fiery orange and magenta as it burns between the crack in the mountains. I was hoping we'd catch it. It's been a long time since I've been up here to see it.

We sink down into the thick, untouched grass, sitting back on our hands and watch nature's paintbrush go to work. The entire sky is washed with an incredible smudge of orange and purple this time of year. It's easy to forget this vast and heart wrenching beauty living inside a landscape of concrete. Where you can't even see the sunset behind the buildings if you wanted to.

"The way the sun peeks between those mountains. And the colors! It's... so beautiful. I've never seen a view like this, not even back on the island. How did you ever find this spot up here?"

Memories pour like a waterfall. A deep breath of the warm summer air fills my lungs. It's so easy to remember out here.

"We used to fly up here as kids all the time. This was our secret place that nobody else knew about," I turn to her and smile, trying to hide the hint of sadness that's been implied in what I've said. "...until now, I guess."

I can tell I've made her feel awkward by mentioning Trunks, even just in a word. It's been seven years and I've never once mentioned him to anyone but Toran, but I guess nobody has asked either. I know they've wanted to. Especially Marron. I can just tell, but I also know she wouldn't ever bring it up unless I said something first.

"Oh..." she says quietly, looking down, not sure of what I'm trying to say to her. I'm not even sure if I know either.

I lighten the mood. "Someday, I'm sure Toran will find this place and think it's this secret nobody else knows about, too." I laugh to myself a second before that thought of my son coming here actually hits me.

"Goten? Are you okay? I lost you for a second."

The glazed over look on my face must be giving me away. I pull myself out of my train of thought, but I shouldn't avoid this and change the subject again. She can see right through me. I know it. And it's part of the reason I've taken her this far. I bite the bullet and force a weak little laugh to pretend like this is going to be an easy conversation; like this is just some after-thought that hasn't been eating away at me for months.

"Isn't it funny... how your own life can seem abstract to you," I say seemingly out of nowhere. "After looking back at all that's happened."

She smiles apologetically, shaking her head at what I'm trying to say to her. "I... don't think I understand."

My hands are fidgety in the grass as I try to put my thoughts into logical words. "I guess... I never I thought I'd have a son to show all these things to someday. It's strange, you know? I see so much of me in him... it's made me think a lot about being that age again," I say truthfully, avoiding eye contact and focused intently on the blades of grass in my hand. "I guess I haven't remembered in a while... until recently"

She smiles as she smoothes her hand across my back, all though it feels more like a caress to me than she might be intending it to be. The muscles in my back tighten anyway.

"You have a lot to teach him, Goten. A lot that I can't. It's why we need you so much." She tries to be comforting, but I can hear the twinge of heartache in her voice. She pauses a moment before adding with a different tone in her voice, "It's why I've needed you."

I don't have to turn around to see the look in her eyes. I can feel it. This is flirting with a subject not yet touched by either of us in a long, long time. I know that she thinks about it more than she's let on. So do I.

But I don't want the facts of what our son is to be the only thing connecting us. I want us in this together. I want her to understand.

"Hold out your hands," I tell her, repositioning myself on the grass to face her.

I get a sideways glance, wary of what I have planned.

"Trust me. I won't hurt you."

"I know," she responds quickly, finding my eyes to let me known that she does indeed trust me with anything as she places her hands in mine. I probably could have asked her to jump of the cliff and she would have.

I contemplate for a second of how I should do this, since it's something I've always taken for granted that the person I was with already understood. I don't want to scare her, and I definitely don't want to hurt her. I'll just have to keep it small.

"Here..." I say, facing her palms towards each other a few inches apart, putting my hands on the outside of hers. "Just let your body relax..."

And without telling her anything about what I was about to do, I focus my energy and push it through her hands, forming a tiny ball of raw, golden ki between her palms.

At first she flinches, but once the initial shock subsides of feeling it for the first time, she relaxes and lets me show her. Slowly, I can feel her own energy releasing into mine as her eyes remain transfixed on the illumination between her palms, studying it closely as if it were an optical illusion. It never occurred to me that she hasn't seen Saiyan ki up close before. It is quite different than the variety her parents have surely shown her.

"So... it is alot different than human ki, huh? It's... it's incredible. But ... how can you just... you know... do this? Without powering up like my dad has to?"

"It's just a concentration of pure energy that's always living inside your body. It's the same energy that connects us to nature. It just takes some practice to find it and control it, but it's easy once you know how. I've been able to do it since, well... I guess since I've been around Toran's age." I lower my voice to a soft whisper, dropping my face to meet hers and interrupting her focus on the glow between her hands. "You should just see what your son can do now."

She suddenly recoils her hands away from mine and the ki quickly fades. Instead, she turns back towards the view in front of us, rubbing her hands together, no doubt still tingling. I can tell I've make her upset somehow.

"Marron?"

"I don't know anything abo-" She stops abruptly, squeezing in what probably amounts to a waterfall of emotions that have been pent up for ages. "I don't know anything about all of this, Goten. I never learned to train and fight like you did. How will I ever understand my own son?"

Like a reflex, I put my hands on her face to turn her back to me. "Toran needs you because you're his mother. Just because you're not a fighter doesn't mean anything. Look at Bulma. She's never trained a day in her life and she..." I trail off. "And ... she's... she's been a great mother to Bra, hasn't she?"

I'm not fooling either of us. As well as I know Bulma's daughter, we both know I wasn't referring to her.

I move back to where I was, wishing I could think more before I speak. Now there's silence again.

By now, the sun has completely set, and I realize that it's been quiet for a while. Marron hasn't said a word, but I know because I've left so much about me in the dark, she's too scared to ask.

Marron deserves to know everything about me. She's why I'm even here at all.

"He's still a part of me, Marron... even after all that's happened. I... I can still feel his soul living inside of me somewhere... "

I look back to her, and every ounce of hesitation or fear that might have existed in me melts away at the sight of her face.

"I love him. And every time I look into our son's eyes, I see him - that trouble making, arrogant little brat of a kid that changed my life forever. And I miss him. I miss him so much." I stop before I get ahead of myself. "I can't describe to you what it feels like to have your soul ripped out of your body. I don't even think there are even words meant for something that. But I felt it as it happened. Leaving me empty of any desire to live anymore. I was nothing. A bottomless void that felt... absolutely nothing. I was dead without him."

Things I've known, but never heard myself say out loud.

"In fact, if I was dead, I probably wouldn't have known the difference. I didn't want to exist without him. There was nothing left for me here."

Her face is stained with tears as much as mine now, still looking away towards the mountains, listening to my words still lingering in the air between us.

"But you were there. Giving me hope. A reason to keep going after I though I had lost everything worth living for. And somewhere along this long, crazy road my life has led me since Trunks... it happened. You started filling that empty place in my heart I thought only to salve with love for our son. And I didn't feel hollow anymore, like an empty shell walking around and killing time until my body died. You prodded and pushed and demanded, forcing me to get up and live... even if only for Toran. And I did."

I steady my nerves for a second. My heart is racing enough to where she can probably hear it beating through my shirt.

"And days became weeks. And months piled into years. And before I knew it... you were everything to me. Toran was my everything. And I wanted to live again. It hit me like a ton of bricks one day out of the blue, the realization that somewhere along the line of picking up the pieces - in the day-to-day routine of raising Toran and getting better, I... I had fallen absolutely head over heels in love with you."

A tiny, choked cry escapes her mouth before she catches it. Emotions torn between surprise and something I have yet to decipher.

"I'm in love with you, Marron. I'm not afraid to say it, and I don't want to spend another day of my life without having you know that. I love you."

And again, there's a long silence from the both of us.

I can hear birds miles away. I can hear the wind I can't even feel yet. It's so quiet between us; I can hear her heartbeat, nearly louder than my own right now.

Her voice almost catches me off guard. Barely audible over the silence. "I know. And... I love you too, Goten. I do. I just..."

"Tell me."

"I'll never be to you what he was. How can I compete with what the two of you had together?"

"Marron, you don't have to compete with anything. What Trunks and me had was what it was, and I don't regret a moment of it. It was a life I wouldn't want to share with anyone else. But you and I are something so different than what me and Trunks ever were, and I don't want to share this life with anyone else either. I needed Trunks then. But I need you now."

I make no attempt to wipe the tears dripping down my cheeks, just sitting in the grass with my hands clasped loosely around my knees. Managing to somehow keep myself composed with a deep, shaky breath in. Wishing she would say something. Like that I haven't completely overwhelmed her. Or that she wants to stay. With me. At all.

And gently... with the lightest touch, her hand gently reaches my face. Warm and soft. Like the echo I can only hear in my heart. I close my eyes, leaning into her hand as she turns my face to hers, and I release the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding in.

For the first time since everything about my world had changed, I realize that the other person, sitting right next to me with her hand on my face, understands exactly what it means to lose someone you love, and find hope again after you once thought all hope was gone.

I trace the contours of his face with trembling fingertips, noting the curve of his cheek, the shadowed sweep of his bangs. His perfectly bowed lips; all the beautiful lines of a face I etched into my memory so long ago. I've been in love with Goten for so long. It's just taken me a while to see it.

But before I have another second to think about what I'm doing, he places his hand over mine; still pressed against his cheek, and the look on his face that I might have mistaken for pain a moment ago quickly melts into this long awaited release.

"I'm so sorry, Marron. We never meant to hurt you."

I smooth my thumb over a trail of tears on his face. "Goten, you don't have to."

"No. I betrayed your trust after promising to take care of you. I never meant to-"

"But you are taking care of me," I bravely smile, cutting him off before he starts apologizing for things that are so far in the past. I want to live in the now.

And suddenly, with such a tiny change of my perspective, the man sitting in front of me is no longer the same man I've been taking care of and nursing back to health all these years since Trunks died. He's not the same man in whose arms I found comfort during a moment of weakness long ago, or the man I've been thankful to just have around to help me raise our son.

For the first time, I look at Goten like... he's my whole world. Like he's the only person who could ever understand me. This whole time - since everything's happened to us - I've been staying to help him get better. But he's been better. For a long time. And for a long time, I've really been staying just because... I love him.

I want him to read what is in my soul. I don't want there to be any doubt that I'm here because we are meant to be together. That our destiny has led us to this place, this moment.

Black eyes lock with mine, and in this long drawn out moment stolen from time, I let him see everything; all the love and desire and intensity of my need for him. Everything I thought I would never feel again. Everything I want to share with Goten.

My head fills with a soft humming and I feel the sensation of a whisper light caress moving against the back of my neck.

Without a word, I reach for the lone lock of blonde hair resting against her shoulder. An intentional brush of my knuckles against the side of her breast draws a reflexive gasp, automatically bringing back a lazy smile to my face. I let go of the lock, watching as the long, curling strand settles back down at her breast before dragging my gaze up to meet her eyes. A wave of red-hot desire hits me hard as I look at the soft, slender woman in front of me. Intense, longing, urgent desire fires my blood as I remember how good it feels to be with her. The person I'm giving my heart to. My body to.

This new life I'm not holding back.

With gentle pressure of my fingers beneath her chin, I tip Marron's face upwards. Blue eyes flecked with silver gaze back at me with an expression hovering in the depths of need. The pad of my thumb caresses the gentle curve of her jaw, brushing across her skin. She tries to suppress the delicate shiver running through her from my touch, but she can't quite pull it off.

Throughout my touch, Marron remains unnaturally still, her eyes glued to mine as if bound by some powerful spell beyond our ability to break. Under my increasing gaze, her breath quickens, now coming in deep, shaky gasps. Puffs of air warm the flesh of my thumb as I run it over her bottom lip.

There is still no sign of protest as my hand slides over her smooth skin to lightly cup the side of her face. A small smile touches my eyes when she can't stop herself from pressing her cheek into my palm, her eyelids fluttering shut for a fleeting moment. Feather light eyelashes brushing the tip of my finger.

I slide my hand around her waist, coming to rest at the small of her back and splaying my fingers to draw her a little nearer. A warm feeling spreads in my chest as there is still no attempt made to pull away or to tell me that I'm wrong to assume.

For a long time, I've questioned to myself over and over again if our broken hearts would ever stop aching, if we would ever be able to find the way to keep going. If fate would take us to the right place, or only leave us lost and alone forever. Wondering if fortune would follow us to the new life growing between us, or if I would ever be able to give my heart away again after knowing the pain of having it once torn out. If I could imagine the thought of my life without her, or if loving Marron is somehow being disloyal to Trunks.

I swallow hard, and know in my heart that Trunks would want me to go on. And if ever there had existed the smallest possibility I could have ever let Marron go, it had just vanished forever.

I remain perfectly still, staring up at him with wide eyes, ready and willing to drown in his liquid gaze if he'll let me. I would do anything for him.

He only has to ask.

And without another second passing, I'm melting my body against his.

The soft brush of his fingertips against my cheek.

Firm lips soon pressed against mine. Light and warm.

Our kiss deepens until we share one breath. One heart beat between us.

Losing ourselves.

Not afraid.

Not looking back.

The taste of her is like sunshine and air. Like fresh rain on green grass. Like a spring breeze that holds an illusive hint of honey and vanilla.

I want everything. All of her. I want that piece of herself she's always held back.

Reluctantly, I draw away, lifting my head only to lose myself in the beauty of her face. I trace its graceful lines with a languid gaze as deep in my chest my heart constricts painfully at the intensity of emotion that she invokes. Awakening my heart with a new, yet familiar ache that only tells me I'm alive again.

I look into her eyes, our bodies taut with the ancient instinct to mate, and we find ourselves quickly losing the hesitation we held only moments ago.

Through eyes burning with desire and need, I watch her undo against me, listening to the increasing tempo of her breathing as I bend my head to her neck. Marron's warm scented flesh is intoxicating, and with every bite, lick and suck I inflict on her sensitive skin, she writhes against me even more. Her little mewling cries of pleasure I remember and love so much excite me, slowly driving me crazy with need. My arousal strains painfully against my confining pants, growing impossibly harder every time she lets out another breathy moan in my ear.

Under the influence of pleasure - the very taste of Marron driving me mad - my control completely slips.

Peeled off layer by layer, our clothing somehow finds itself in a pile beside us. I can barely recall how.

I lay back onto the soft, thick grass, never taking my eyes off him. In the freshly set sun, Goten's body is highlighted to make him look like a statue chiseled straight from marble. His long, spiked bangs blow carelessly in his eyes. Eating me alive with his gaze, making him look almost too perfect to exist, but this time, I'm certain he does.

Slowly, he lowers his body over mine, whispering my name with awed wonder as I wrap my arms around him, holding him close. Suddenly afraid that if I don't hold on tight enough, he'll disappear and this will all just turn out to be a dream. But this time, I know it won't.

Soft, tender lips find mine again, pressing my body to his as I inhale the warm sent of his skin. His tongue entwines with mine with so much need and passion. To take in every ounce of me with the same feeling of longing I want to give to him in return.

Trembling as I feel warm waves of desire wash over me, I'm already drowning in our kiss. Our naked bodies against each other's, the hot feel of his skin and the hard, taut muscles underneath it as he flexes to control himself. Desperate for the touch of a woman.

Without any coaxing, I reach down to the hard length between my thighs, and slowly guide him into my body, forcing out a sharp exhale of breath from his chest at the first touch of sensation he feels. Biting his bottom lip and using every ounce of restraint he can summon. A vibrating moan from his throat.

With little preamble and much failed resistance, he suddenly pushes forward, sheathing himself in my core and forcing a muffled groan from the both of us. But when instincts take over and my hips begin moving in tandem with the pace he's setting, he knows he's going to drive me insane with want.

I read her body's every response in the flush of her cheeks, the hitch in her breath, and those soft, feminine mewling cries that rip an answering moan from my throat. Only seconds ago, the air had been filled with her silent cries of 'please, please'. Now only our jagged breathing can be heard as we both fight to regain control. I want to make her burn for me like I do for her, because if that one time after Toran had been born was for me, then this time will be for Marron. And every time after... is for us.

Ancient instincts assert themselves over Marron's relatively inexperienced body and she begins to move with me without the need of any guidance. Our rhythm becomes one.

I grip her hips, thrusting myself deeper into her velvety warmth, and every time I pull back, I feel like I've lost something, only to find it again and again as I slide back in. The sound of our bodies coming together accompanied our moans and cries rise around us as I rock us towards an impending release.

I give her no choice in the matter as I hit that secret spot inside her repeatedly, and as if on cue, her muscles contract violently, working with delicious amounts of pressure. Her fingers begin to claw at my shoulders, the pain already forgotten as I increase my efforts to push her over the edge. Around the heat that slicks in and out, I can feel her beginning to contract around me, squeezing me with surprising strength.

My own breath becomes ragged; competing with the harsh gasps that are emanating from the woman under me I'm driving towards a shattering climax. Another rush of wet heat drenches her sheath, desperate fingers clutch at my chest, thighs reflexively clenching under the onslaught of her release. The sight of Marron writhing against me as the waves of pleasure wash over her is utterly breathtaking.

I slip my hands under and over Marron's shoulders, using my hold to angle deeper. My climax is fast approaching.

She throws her head back and sinks her nails into the flesh of my upper arms.

I'm near the edge.

Her name sounds from me over and over. Our mouths crash and meld in a wild kiss. And with a final rush of heat, I lose myself in the primal satisfaction of spilling myself into her core as I climax harder than I think I ever have, and with one more hard thrust, I let go, emptying myself deep inside her.

Not until her violently contracting inner muscles milk me of everything I have, do I lift my head from the crook of her shoulder. An exhausted tremor racks through me as I slip out of her tight body, breathing hard and heavy.

Finally, spent and exhausted, I collapse on top of her and rest my head against her naked breasts, luxuriating in the musky scent mingling with glistening skin and that faint tang of vanilla I will forever associate with Marron.

I roll onto my back bringing her with me as she burrows into me, nestling at my side with a tired sigh. I draw her head down to rest against my shoulder, enjoying the feel of her hand as it idly caresses the contours of my chest. The faded scar that will always be over my heart.

Her soft breath skitters across the base of my throat, warming the skin in its path, and I turn slightly to the side and place a kiss on her forehead, inhaling the scent of her hair.

"I want to share everything about me with you, Marron," I whisper. "I don't want to hold anything back."

"Neither do I."

He holds me to his side, lying together out here for longer than we should. Wrapped in the glow surrounding us like a blanket. The sky is getting dark, faintly salted by millions of tiny stars scattered out into infinity. Right now, it feels like they're all shining just for us.

"I've been thinking..." he says towards the sky, pausing to filter his thoughts into words. "I don't think I want to go back."

I laugh. "Goten, I don't want to go back either, but we can't just leave Toran with your par-..."

"I mean I don't want to go back to West City. At all. I want to stay out here. In the country..."

Before I can jump to any heartbreaking conclusions about his statement, he explains.

"I want us to move out here. The three of us. Where Toran can grow up with room to play and fly like a kid while he still can. Somewhere I can teach him to use his ki and transform... not be kept in a city where he'll have to hide and pretend he's like everyone else... where he'll forget who he is... being someone he's not."

I can help but wonder if he's still only talking about Toran.

"I don't want him to have to grow up like that, Marron. He deserves to find places like this and learn about who he is and what he can do." He swivels his head to me. "I want us to be a family out here."

I barely know what to say. "Goten..."

"I want to start over. The three of us." He idly brushes the hair away from my eyes with the edge of his fingers; sounding like this has been something on his mind forever. He lowers his voice, speaking so close to my face I can feel his breath on my cheek. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Marron. And... I want to spend it in a place that will be ours."

I don't even have to think. I've already listened to my heart. And for the second time in my life, I've completely given my heart to him.

"I do, too." About all the words I can manage right now.

Immediately, Goten wraps his arms around me, engulfing me with an intense feeling of relief. Holding me impossibly close. If I didn't know better, I'd say I almost feel like there's some unexplainable electricity starting to tickle my bare skin. Like some organic force that's growing in intensity around us... swallowing us whole.

But I realize what it is.

And I smile, letting the warm glow of his ki flow through my body. Giving myself to him in every way I possibly can. A part of me feels scared. So open... and vulnerable. But I'm happy. Instead of giving my heart away to the man of my dreams... this time, I've fallen in love with the man of my life.

"There's something important I have to do out here before we head back. Will you come with me?" he whispers in my ear, apparently unaware that he's already rendered me speechless.

I try to laugh through my tears of happiness, making him smile in return. That genuine Son smile I'm missed so much.

"Well... I don't think I can make it off this rock by myself, so I guess that means I'm coming with you," I say playfully, kissing his cheek in response to the kisses I already feel on the side of my neck, igniting a tiny spark every time I touch my lips to his skin. "Where are we going?"

"I'll show you..."

After leaving the cliff, Goten takes me flying with him over the countryside... or what he likes to refer to as 'The Easier Way of Getting Around Out Here'. My fears of this now completely replaced by the sheer awe of his talent to soar like a bird, to be so free out here to do things like this that would be otherwise impossible anywhere else. The way is lit by nothing but the cool, blue light leftover in the sky and the pale starlight barely shining off the landscape far below. From way up here, it's absolutely beautiful.

The fleeting thought of my son someday flying up this high suddenly makes me very worried.

We land just on the other side of the mountains, and I follow him through the thick, overgrown grass, still waiting for him to tell me why we've come out this way and for what. It's not near anything in any direction that I was able to see from the sky.

We walk through the empty fields until we reach an open area unobstructed by any trees or rocks, not too far from the river bank. The grass has grown deep here, enough to where I almost don't notice the sheets of metal and parts scattered around the field until I nearly trip on some of it.

"What happened out here?" But he doesn't hear me, still walking on through the field as it becomes more and more apparent that he's taken me someplace where something big had happened a long time ago. Some sort of battle maybe. Or...

Suddenly, he stops. Right around the exact second I figure out were he's taken me. Instantly, I regret opening my mouth.

Only a few feet in front of where Goten stands lies the burned remnants of a metal frame of something vaguely resembling a truck, or jeep or some sorts, almost completely covered by overgrown weeds and vines. Empty crates and boxes that I couldn't see from above litter the field in the thick grass, seemingly untouched since they day they were abandoned. It takes him a minute before moving again, just standing there and staring at something on the ground as I watch from behind.

I stay back and hold my breath, giving him room to grasp the onslaught of emotions I can feel from were I stand, and I know now - after hearing the retold story about what Goten did and how Goku later had to wish back the morally innocent people killed - that this is where it must have happened.

I start to wonder why Goten would even want to come back to this place, and more importantly, why he wanted me to be here with him. But no sooner than the thought circles through my head, he slowly drops to his knees, reaching down for something in the grass near one of the large wooden crates that's open on it's side. Lost in another world. Another time I can't even fathom.

"Goten."

It's not until a gleam of starlight reflects off the blade do I know what he's found. I remember it, seeing it that day I moved in the apartment, and even from back when Trunks would endlessly carry it around when he was a kid. The blade created by the gods themselves. The story everyone had heard about.

Goten grips the sword firmly by the hilt, holding it out even to the horizon, every muscle in his arm fighting to control the twitching in his composure. So much respect for the sacred weapon, as if by reflex. His breathing noticeably quickens and he doesn't have to tell me why it's out here.

Before this moment, I knew very little about what had actually happened. I knew Trunks had died during some kind of battle. I had even later learned that he had died by the blade of a sword. Never did it occur to me that it was possibly the blade of his own sword that killed him. The very sword Goten now holds in his hand.

But there aren't any tears or sudden regress into hopelessness like I expect. Instead... there's strength.

He speaks out loud, studying the weather-beaten weapon in his hand. "This belongs to someone else now." He turns back around to face me and sheaths the sword together in one smooth, graceful movement. "Let's go home."

Again, I don't have to ask.

"Wow! Can I hold it? Can I?" Impatient, wide eyes stare in amazement. Just like the last owner.

"You can do more than hold it. It belongs to you now."

And in the middle of my parents yard, I hand my son the same sword Trunks was given over twenty years ago, knowing he would have wanted Toran to carry on his legacy by mastering the same weapon like he had done. I know my son has it in him to do so.

"Really? You mean it?!" And without another word, Toran slings the strap around his back and clasps it, unsheathing the sword in one, quick yank. He's mesmerized, by either the weapon itself or the fact that he knows full well that no other seven year old on the planet would ever be allowed to touch something so dangerous.

I glance over at my father, now standing in the doorway of the house. He just stands there, watching the three of us together as a family. Hoping all along that fate was eventually going to have another chance. Who knows, maybe he actually knew.

"This is the coolest thing ever! Grandpa! Grandpa! Look! Look what my dad gave me!" Toran shouts, running back towards my dad to show him what I've brought back, not that he couldn't already tell.

Early memories of Trunks are all I see as I look upon my son. Even down to the same way the sheath nearly touches the ground behind him because the boy wearing it hasn't quite grown into it yet. It still feels like yesterday. But it no longer hurts to remember.

I stand back up beside Marron. As predicted, tremors ripple through her grip on my hand at first sight of Toran swinging the weather-scarred sword through the air, though with surprising form. I can tell she has some... reservations... about our son hurting himself and anyone within a ten mile radius of him. But once she remembers that he'll soon develop the power to tear down mountains and melt steel with his bare hands, she smiles.

Toran runs back towards us with a grin on his face that makes him look exactly like his fathers, already having learned to sheath the sword behind him without looking. Through him the sword of the gods will be returned to it's former condition... just as through Toran, the sword's previous master will live on.

We both kneel down in front of him as I rest my hands on his shoulders to keep him in one place. So much young energy that has so much to become.

"What would you say about living out here? We could live next to Grandma and Grandpa, and Uncle Gohan? What do you think?"

"All the time? We could stay out here!?"

All the answer I need.

"And guess what, dad! Grandpa said he's going to teach me the ka... kamma... uh..."

"I think I might know that one," I laugh, glancing back to my dad now standing in the doorway next to my mom, then back to Marron, as I slide my arm around her to draw her close. My Marron.

For the first time in years, I'm anxious for the future. For all the possibilities, thrilling and wondrous, that lay ahead. Watching our son as he becomes the man he's destined to be. For the children Marron and I will have together. For the new road ahead of us we have just begun to take.

The next chapter of the story of us.

I can't wait.

I can no longer hide the awakening of emotions from my son.

"Dad?" Toran whispers, making no secret about how in tune and insightful he can be. "This sword used to belong to my real dad, didn't it?"

I have so much to tell him. Even more to teach him. I want him to know all about who he is, and about his parents whom he takes so much after. About how it has been an accumulation of all of our lives that has lead us up to now - My life with Trunks… My life with Marron… Tracing the beginning all the way back to the one person who brought us all together...

"Well, I think it all started with a kid about your age named Gotenks..."

And the story goes on...

My chapter in all of this is now over.

My part in his life gone, but never forgotten.

I tighten my fingers on King Kai's broad shoulder as he allows me the rare privilege - gift, it's a gift and nothing else - of looking in on my son.

He's sleeping. Curled around the scabbard of my old sword like it was a much loved teddy-bear. I used to do that... I can't help but remember. He's growing into a fine warrior. I suspect my father will seek him out soon. But I'm not worried that my son will live the life I did. He's stronger than I ever was.

I tap King Kai's shoulder lightly and his focus changes, showing me Goten. My Chibi.

Actual time has little meaning at the Grand Kai's training grounds. Months, years can pass over a eternity, or be gone in a blink. But for a long time, I've been staring off into the ether knowing that things weren't right with Goten… even after I said good bye. So many times I hoped and prayed that Goten wouldn't follow me here, that he'd be strong enough to go on.

And he has.

He's limped along, pulling himself back from the brink. Or more correctly, she's pulled him back. Marron… Who knew she'd end up being the strongest of us all?

I see him now. His sleep deep and untroubled, the lines on his face smoothed out. He holds Marron tightly in his sleep, but not in the desperate clinging way of a drowning, dying man. He holds her with love.

Thank god for that. I've never been the praying kind, but I almost want to fall to my knees with relief. Emotion clogs my throat and makes my eyes burn. He's where he's supposed to be; with he person he's supposed to be with now. I no longer have to fear that one day I'll look up from my training to see that our bond has finally destroyed him. That it's taken from him everything that I loved about him. Everything that was fine and good in him.

Goten belongs to the world. He belongs to her.

I pull my hand back from King Kai's shoulder, severing the connection that allows me a peek into a world that I am no longer a part of. I nod my thanks as he moves away toward the Grand Kai's palace.

I can be at peace now. I can finally rest knowing that Goten is finally going to be okay. And that one day, a very long time from now, when I look up and see Goten again…

We'll have forever. And that time will be ours.

Until then... I can wait.

~ The End ~

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AUTHORS NOTES:

Well, that's it... The last and final chapter of my epic story.

I can't complete this last martini shot without giving a world of thanks and gratitude to the one person who's been the heart and soul behind this fic since the very beginning... the one person who has dug me out of countless plot holes and given so much life and meaning to the characters I've been writing about for so long. I can honestly say that if it weren't for her, you would be reading a very different fic, and in no way would my original idea have ever found it's way off the ground. To have the very author who inspired me to write about these characters in the first place and to take so many chances... Having Kinomi be at my side this whole time has been... an honor! And I consider myself very lucky to having had the chance to work with her! "You're the best, K!"

I hope you've enjoyed my story, wether it's turned out the way you had hoped or not, whether you've just started reading it or have come back to it after a long time - and thanks a million for all of you who have showed so much support and dedication to this story until the end of all things! The Story of You and Me was on my mind for a very long time, and I've given more of myself to this story than I care to admit right now. I really fell in love with the idea, and I'm so happy I was able to write it out and share it with such a supportive group of fans! I value every single review and comment I've receive, flames and all. And while it may take a spell for me to get around to reading them and responding to questions, I always do. Y'all have made writing this story a wonderful experience that I'll never forget!

Thank you.

~djFusion