For the Love of a Guardian

9

He was sleeping on her couch when she came home later that night. Trista softly closed the front door, trying not to make a sound as she made her way into her room. She threw her clothing in the hamper, before pulling on some drawstring pants and a tank-top. She leaned against the back of the couch, gazing down at the man conked out in her living room. A small smile appeared on her face, her gaze going to Anthony's hair. Trista studied it for a moment, before turning and going back into her room. She laid down on the bed, staring at the ceiling for the longest time. Why does he look so much like Goku! She bit her lip, rolling onto her side and her brows furrowed. It's so uncanny, the hair, the facial features, those eyes! But...Trista let a sigh out as she closed her eyes. I don't think Goku would become a doctor, especially with his phobia of needles. A small smile graced her lips as she drifted off to sleep.

I'll ask him in the morning...

XXX

They were making breakfast a few mornings later when she remembered what she wanted to ask him. Trista bit her lip, glancing over her shoulder at Anthony, who was in the process of buttering the toast. She returned her gaze to the grits she was stirring, swallowing as nervousness fluttered through her. Why am I so nervous? She licked her lips, her movements slowing until she was just standing there, staring down at the pot. A moment went by before she realized...she was afraid of his answer. Trista sucked in a large breath, giving a quick stir to the grits before turning quickly before she lost her nerve.

"Um...Anthony?"

"Hn," he absently answered, setting a piece of toast down before grabbing another, slathering it with butter. His head came up when she stayed silent.

"What is it," he asked softly, laying the knife down as Trista studied his features.

Trista's gaze slid away for a moment before returning. "I just...I wanted to ask you something," she said softly, watching his eyes sharpen on her face. She bit her lip again.

"Yes," Anthony questioned, turning and folding his arms, leaning back against the counter.

It was silent for several minutes as Trista thought about how she wanted to word her question.

"Why...I was just..." she paused, taking a deep breath. "Do you remember when I was in the hospital, when I first met you?" She waited for him to nod before continuing. "Remember when I woke up and saw you for the first time? Do you remember what I called you?" she asked in a whisper, holding her breath as he stood there silently. She resisted the urge to shift her feet as he studied her intently.

"Yes," he finally said, his voice quiet.

"Well," Trista said, drawing out that one word. "I just thought that, with...with everything that's happened that I would-"

"It's funny how some people look so much alike isn't it," Anthony stated softly, a small smile appearing on his lips. He turned back to the toast, not saying anything else.

Trista stared at his back, her eyes a little wide. Wait a minute! He was just going to leave it at that!? Just chalking it up to coincidence! Her brows furrowed a little as she crossed her arms.

"Anthony," she said sharply. She gulped as the man's back tensed, his shoulders going rigid. He didn't turn.

"I just don't understand how you could look identical to a man I know of...and just not expect me to ask you any questions about it," she stated quietly, listening to the silence in the kitchen as Anthony stood there with his back to her, not responding.

"Anthony," Trista whispered his name, laying a hand on his shoulder.

He abruptly turned and left the kitchen. Trista stared at the swinging door, flinching a little when she heard the front door slam shut a moment later. She stood there in silence for the longest time, before the smell of burning grits brought her out of her shock. She walked over and cut the burner off, her gaze absently roaming the counter top, staring at all the food sitting there. She wasn't even hungry anymore.

She closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her head shot up when the kitchen door suddenly slammed against the wall. Her mouth parted as her eyes widened. Anthony stood in the doorway, a serious frown on his face. Trista gulped at the steel in his eyes. She took a step back as he purposely strode forward.

"I didn't want to rush things you know," Anthony stated, still stalking forward. A muscle jumped in his jaw.

"I-"

"But I guess it would have come to this sooner or later right!?" he said loudly, cutting her off as he wrapped an arm firmly around her waist.

Trista stared up at the man, a little shiver going through her. Anthony seemed...mad. He narrowed his eyes down at her, confirming her suspicions.

"Anthony, I'm sorry-"

He swooped down and captured her lips, firmly cutting her off once more. A whimper escaped her as he furiously ground his mouth against hers, before abruptly softening the kiss, sliding his lips against her jaw. She felt his breath fan the side of her face.

"Don't be scared," he whispered in her ear, holding her to him as she tried to extract herself.

"Anthony," Trista said shakily, pushing against his shoulders again. He wouldn't move. "You're scaring me. What's going on?"

The man didn't answer her, just continued to hold her against him, his face still settled against her neck. "Don't be afraid okay," he whispered against her skin.

Trista felt a sliver of fear course down her spine. She suddenly felt dizzy, gasping for air. Her vision blurred, and she clutched Anthony's shoulders, not understanding what was going on. "Don't be afraid..." she heard him whisper a second time. "...of me."

She closed her eyes to the odd sensation of falling, her stomach flipping. She whimpered right before her vision went black, wandering about the man's last statement before her mind went blank.

XXX

It's funny how sometimes, you just can't escape your past. How it always comes back, rearing its ugly head, even when you've tried to turn your life around.

He stared down at the woman in his arms, Trista having passed out halfway through their...journey. He swallowed, studying her soft features before letting a sigh out. He was pretty sure she was going to hate him now, after she woke up and realized where they were. He held her more firmly against him, biting back a curse when he heard the door to the house behind him open. He hadn't wanted to run into anybody yet, wanted to spend more time with the woman he'd fallen hard for before she woke up and all hell broke loose.

"Hey Dad! I didn't expect you back so soon!"

He slowly turned, watching the man's face carefully as he held Trista more firmly against him. "Hey son," he said softly. The young man stared at the woman, before lifting his gaze. It was quiet for several seconds before either spoke.

"Is she hurt?" his son asked softly, his eyes roaming over her form, looking for any signs of injury. He shot the man a soft smile. Leave it to the boy to inquire about her welfare above all else.

"No," he finally said, before starting forward, holding Trista firmly in his arms. "She just passed out."

"So this is..." his son trailed off, his eyes widening a little as they shot up to meet his. "This is the woman you told us about?"

"Yes," he stated firmly, moving passed his grown son and entering the house. He quickly made it to his bedroom, gently laying her down on top of the covers. She didn't stir. He studied her features, gently moving strands away from her face before straightening up. He turned and left, softly closing the door behind him.

He ignored his sons' questioning gaze, striding back outside. He let a sigh out, crossing his arms and spreading his feet shoulder width apart. He studied the sky, his eyes narrowing.

"Hey dad," his son said behind him, coming to stand at his shoulder. He didn't move his gaze away from the sky, his mouth firming a little. "Is she staying?" the young man asked softly. He could feel his boy look over at him.

"I don't know," he finally said, tensing a little a moment later.

"They're on their way," his son said quietly. He grunted, letting his arms fall to his sides as he prepared himself.

"Everyone's going to be happy to see you again," the young man beside him stated, "but I don't know how their going to react to the...guest you brought along."

He felt a scowl appear on his face at his sons' words.

"One more question before they get here," his son said, crossing his arms.

He finally looked over, meeting the man's eyes. "What is it?"

His son studied him for a moment before sighing, looking back up at the sky.

"Have you told Goten yet?"

"No."

XXX

Neither of them said anything else as they waited for their friends to arrive. He stayed silent as, one by one, everyone showed up. He shot them a small smile at their excited greetings, his eyes roaming over everybody. His eyes shot to the man strolling forward, his arms crossed, a frown on his face. He tensed a little once more, remembering their last confrontation on his last visit. It had not been pretty.

"Vegeta," he said firmly, his eyes watching the man's every move.

"Kakkarot," the man said as a way of greeting, before entering the house, not saying another word.

He let a small, relieved breath out, giving his younger son a hug before they all made their way into the house.

"Hey Goku," his scarred friend asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

He quirked a brow at him, silently waiting.

"We were all wandering..." Yamcha trailed off for a moment, before clearing his throat. Everyone else became quiet. "We don't want to intrude but..."

Goku crossed his arms, his fingers tapping against his arm. He didn't say anything, just waited.

"Who's that?" the man asked, looking over his shoulder.

He jerked his head around, suddenly realizing why everyone had became quiet. He swallowed hard, his arms slowly lowering.

Trista stood in the doorway, her eyes wide. Her face had whitened, her lips parted as she stared at everyone in the kitchen. He took a step towards her, pausing when her eyes shot to his, widening even further. A gasp escaped her, and she whirled around, taking off down the hall. He heard a door slam, the sound loud in the silent house.

Goku swallowed hard again, sighing as he closed his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Dammit," he muttered, before lifting his head as he turned. Everyone was watching him, questions in their eyes.

"Hey dad," Goten asked, his brows furrowed a little. "Who was that?"

He pinched his lips together, crossing his arms. "That was Trista," he stated quietly, listening as low murmurs erupted throughout the group.

"That's her!?" Yamcha said loudly, disbelief in his tone. Goku narrowed his eyes at the man. The scarred warrior stuttered a little under his glare. "I just...uh...never expected her to be so..." Yamcha trailed off, gulping loudly.

"Be so what?" Goku said quietly, lowering his head as he kept his gaze on the man.

"Hot!" Yamcha squeaked out, taking several steps away from the taller man.

Goku grunted, a small smirk appearing on his lips. He met Gohan's eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath.

"I'll be right back you guys," he stated before turning and quickly making his way towards his bedroom.

He paused at the door, letting a small sigh out before slowly opening it.

She was sitting on the bed, her back against the headboard, her arms wrapped around her knees. She didn't look over as he entered.

"Trista," he said quietly, slowly sitting on the bed. He swallowed, a sigh coming out of him.

"Why didn't you tell me Anth-" Trista cut off, and he heard her suck in a breath. "Goku?"

He was quiet for several minutes, silently cursing himself for not coming clean with the woman sooner.

"I'm sorry," he said, listening to her shift on the bed. He couldn't look at her, afraid of the anger she was sure to have towards him. He didn't want to see it, didn't want to hear the biting words cutting him down. Goku clenched his jaw, his head hanging, his shoulders drooping. He really thought this time would be different. That he had met someone who he could spend the rest of his life peacefully with. Unlike his late wife, he had thought that Trista would love him like he did her. He had thought that...that she would accept him for who he was, not keep trying to change him like ChiChi used to do.

Goku sighed. He knew that she might, possibly be scared at first, finding out the truth. That's why he was trying to take it slow, and not jump into anything with blinders on. Like he did with ChiChi.

He listened to the silence for a few moments, before slowly standing up. Apparently she didn't want to talk to him.

Goku froze as a hand clasped around his, softly squeezing. He looked down at their hands, before looking behind him. Trista was studying him with wide eyes, the fear in her eyes still apparent. He slowly turned, sitting back down. His gaze never left her as he scooted over towards her, slowly wrapping an arm around her.

"It's okay," he whispered, settling his chin on top of Trista's head, listening to her sharp intake of breath. He tightened his arm around her, running his hand down her hair.

"I'm sorry for not telling you the truth," he whispered into her hair, taking in the scent of the woman he loved. "I was afraid you would hate this...hate me," he confessed softly.

"I don't hate you..." he heard her swallow. "Goku."

"You're not afraid of me...are you?" Goku asked tentatively, feeling his heart thud as Trista kept quiet.

"No," she finally stated, her hand squeezing around his once more.

Relief flooded through him as his body relaxed, kissing her forehead before moving back. He met her eyes, running his thumb along her cheek.

"You know," he said softly after several minutes. "My sons are excited about meeting you."

Trista's eyes widened, and she looked towards the door. She looked back at him after a moment, swallowing. "Really!" she asked, disbelief in her tone.

"MmMm." A soft smile crossed his lips, and Goku stood, holding his hand out.

Trista eyes widened. "Now!" she squeaked out, staring up at him.

"If you want," he said softly, sliding his hand along her neck. His smile turned into a grin at her soft gasp. He leaned down and softly captured her lips, sliding his tongue along hers as they both groaned. He pulled back at the loud knock on the door.

"Hey Goku, is everything okay?"

He met Trista's eyes, slowly smiling once more.

"Yeah," he finally answered, still holding Trista's gaze. "Everything is fine."