Phobia

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z, though you probably already know this . . .

Agent 182: Okay I lied I said I would not write another Valentine's Day fic but I love it so much. Um I was cleaning my room, I wrote down words, and they turned into this. I'm going to take more time on this one so don't expect a chapter everyday. Sorry, um I hope you read Valentine's Day and Paranoid cause if you didn't this wouldn't make too much sense. It should be a lot scarier than the other ones and messes with minds more. I love that. Anyways it's Goku/Vegeta yum and romance and you know who is in this. *Shudders. I hope you like it and it would be nice if you told me what you think. Though you don't have to . . . thanks a bunch

Chapter 1: My plague

The shimmering gloss from her lips gone. Now bruises, smudges of their once softness. No words fell from them, no giggles, no breath.

Nothing

That's what she was . . . that's what she meant to me, nothing. Was she ever anything to me? The question still remained but I always elude the answer. My dark eyes narrowed at the long jagged tears across her slender wrists; they told the short story of her life. No blood seeped from the deep gashes. The blade had been tossed carelessly across the floor a trail of blood followed it. Her sky blue eyes stared forward.

Guilty, they screamed.

I am guilty.

The blood had pooled around her. It was now deep, deep enough to drown in, but I was already drowning; sinking deeper into my unshed tears.

It's my fault

It's my fault she's dead, on the ground cold and lifeless.

Gone

I am guilty; her eyes tell no lies. Her blue hair soaked up the once warm crimson. I still stand; my mouth hung agape in shock because of what I've done and what I didn't do. I hurt her; I must have, that is why she pulled the blades across her milky wrists. A single tear crept down my tan cheek. It's my fault; I should have done something, anything. I should have seen through her smiles . . . her laugh but everything was the same, nothing had changed. Or was I too oblivious to notice, too caught up in my life to notice her pain.

Would her pain be too much to fathom?

I will never know. Her eyes, I kept going back to the sparkling blue. They didn't show sadness, she said she was happy for us then what else is in those eyes. She wouldn't kill herself she loves life but still there is something in the depths of her wide eyes-

FEAR

Fear was in her eyes. She didn't do it. She didn't bring the edge of the blade to her wrist. She didn't let the blood fall through her fingers. I knew it!

Someone else did.

"You're right." My heart raced as I glanced up to the figure standing by the only door out of the kitchen. The shadow was too familiar for comfort. I growled in the back of my throat as I recognized it's cold blue eyes. That part of the kitchen was dimly lit with light but I could still see those eyes. It chuckled uncrossing its arms and straitening its back. Moving closer until it stood on the opposite side of Bulma Brief's body. "Was it really your fault that she is dead?" it asked. It's eyebrow lifted. I didn't answer I kept my mouth closed; it won't have the privilege of hearing my voice. "I think it was my fault. I did slit her wrists. She's dead now . . . " its black hair fell into its face, the hair longer now almost to their shoulder. It's eyes roamed over Bulma's body admiring its handy work. I stepped back in disbelief.

"No. You're not real. You died two damn months ago! This is a dream, a fucking messed up dream and I'm going to wake up." I pinched my arm feeling nothing I sighed.

It just smirked "Are you sure he'll be there when you wake?" It tilted their head. "What if he's dead right now?"

"HE'S NOT YOU-"

"Wake up and find out" It bent down, it's fingers curling around the silver handle of the knife. It eyed me for a moment striding closer. Bulma's dark blood dripped onto the tiled floor.

It's a dream, isn't it? I could feel a pang of fear in my chest; what if it isn't what if- Pain surged through my stomach as it jammed the blade into my stomach.

I howled at the sudden pain, if this is a dream then why the hell does it hurt so bad?

My fingers went to the warm blood leaking from my stomach; the blade still embedded in my stomach. It was jerked out causing me to stagger back a step. "You still seem asleep to me." She put her hand to my chest and pushed gently, I collapsed to the ground, my blood leaking through my fingers, the heated liquid slowly cooled. "I thought you were going to wake up?" looming over me, it spun the bloody blade in its fingers.

"I thought-" I tried to choke out, tasting something familiar in my mouth. The taste of my own blood.

"And you thought I was dead and here I am."

"This is all in my head. DAMMIT WAKE UP!" My voice croaked rising above a whisper.

"I'll tell him how much you love him before I drain his sweet blood."

"NO!" I tried to yell but my voice was drowned out by the sound of steady breathing. My eyes cracked open as it brought down the blade.

I shot up in the bed, panting. The silk sheets clung to my sweaty skin. My eyes scanned the room franticly until they rested on the messy hair on the pillow next to mine. His chest rose and fell slowly.

A dream . . . it was a dream. I looked away from the sleeping Sayian next to me and to the alarm clock on the nightstand.

3:00!

Damn . . . I collapsed back onto the bed, careful not to disturb Kakkarot. He shifted onto his side, facing me, eyes open. His eyes clouded over with lack of sleep. He smiled at me and brought his hand to mine, intertwining our fingers.

"Did you have a bad dream?" he whispered softly staring into my eyes.

I shrugged "I guess." He lightly squeezed my hand.

"What was it about?" he asked, letting out a deep breath.

"Nothing important . . ." I looked away from his trusting eyes. He scooted closer and snuggled into my shoulder. He released my hand and laid his arm across my chest, lightly caressing the soft skin; sending a chill up my spine.

"Good night Geta." He mumbled nuzzling my bare skin.

I played with his soft ebony hair "Sleep well Kakkarot." Heavy lids closed over my eyes, hoping another nightmare wouldn't plague my sleep or the Sayian next to me.

To be continued . . .

Agent 182: hoped you liked it. Thanks for reading and reviews would be much liked.