So, this is my second Dragonball FF, yes you see correctly, second, the other one is on animeMANGA and is called That away the Sky. And my other FF's are also all at animeMANGA.

Title: Your last Breath
Genre: Drama, Darkfic
Rating: actually for all ages
Warning: Anyone who doesn't like the darkfic genre shouldn't read this! Oh, Shounen Ai can also occur.
Disclaimer: All Chara's belong to A. Toriyama
Summary: It's about one of the Z-warriors who fell into trauma, I know I'm not good at explaining, so just read it yourself!
Comment: Hm, so maybe the prologue is a bit too short, but hopefully that's not that bad.

Alone, alone, abandoned by those he'd called his friends. Everything is lost, neither joy nor hate is left to him, everything was taken from him just because he wanted to protect, protect from himself. Now that he is alone, it no longer matters that he will soon die, his body will destroy itself .There is no longer any help for him, his heart will soon stop beating, the virus in him will become too strong that he too can no longer do anything. Silence will return and no one will miss him, he was cruel to them a long time ago.

His spirit will be forgotten, there will be no grave for him, not even the wind will carry away his ashes. No song will sound, time will not stand still for him either, it did not stand still in the beautiful moments either. No tear will be seen, all because he wanted to protect. Inwardly, not saying a word, not moving his lips, none of his muscles will ever be able to move again, no more hope. Just lying there on his bed, a white, almost transparent blanket covers his body, marked by betrayal.

Each of those scars he got from trying to protect. He hadn't been able to win, not against himself, had been strong too, but he couldn't control himself.He gave in to the urge to kill, and his friends turned against him. Also saw how they desperately tried to make him back to who he used to be. He had seen fear and the tears that he thought they would never cry and also of those that he knew they would cry for him.

But they had come too late, too late to bring back his real self, his good self. He knew it had hurt them to have to hurt him, maybe even kill him. Until he collapsed into himself, fell into a dream, full of pain and agony, slumped unconscious and woke up again, but these eyes, they remained empty, the virus had won, there is now only loneliness in him, he is one empty shell, but his friends, they would never come back.

Every breath, every blink of the eye, some torment for him and no one is with him. Need help now, but it doesn't come, nobody comes. It's all his fault because he wanted to protect but couldn't.So the silence veils its pain and the silence says, take him, take him to you now. Nevertheless, his time is not over yet, so he will not die yet, only when the way is cleared for him, he may climb up until he has found himself again and then return to earth as someone else.

The curtains blow slightly in the wind, white curtains blinded by purity. Light shines in, illuminates his room, no reaction on his part, like every day. Awake but still not awake. Alive but not Alive. His fate had wanted it that way, that's how he would die and the silence says take him take him to you now. Back then he had killed, even wanted to kill him, his first real friend. His friend stood where he first realized they were friends, fire had formed around them, hot fire and blood red. No, he didn't want to kill him, just his other self, the virus wanted to kill him who means most to him.To see him die, how he died through him, through his hand, sank to his knees and see his eyes filled with fear. Everyone should hate him, just as he hated them, his own friends had betrayed him, so he formed hatred around his heart again and there good ones, he hid this, buried it deep inside him. When it was too late, I couldn't sweep it up either, it stayed hidden. They had all come too late, only he could save his best friend, he too had serious wounds in the fight, but when he looked into his eyes for the last time, he saw his tears, not out of hate just out of fear for him and out of desperation, yes everyone was crying, they didn't hate him, he wanted to tell them something else, he wanted to tell them something one last time before he was forever in the trauma.

But he had been too weak, he couldn't say anything to his friends anymore. The virus had not completely disappeared, it was still in him, it did not want to go away. Sweat runs down his forehead, down his temple, down to his throat.He had been lying like this for days now, each of his scars hurt, some had already healed, but others were still open and they kept opening again. These wounds had become infected, blood is also running down from them, down onto the white sheets of the bed.

Fresh blood runs down again and again, mixes with sweat, his chest rises and falls, eyes they stare at the ceiling, black, empty eyes. From this day on he notices nothing, he does not notice anything at all, he does not even feel the pain when the salt water of his sweat meets the water of life. The silence she calls and covers, covers his screams, covers his spirit. Take him, take him to yourself, again and again, cover up, cover up his screams, his spirit, nobody is allowed to hear him, nobody should miss him, his spirit is mine. And the silence obeys, hides his screams, hides his mind until the time comes, until he has to let go, until he dies.Nobody will be with him, only the silence that demands that he die and then only she will be with him, only she. Soon he and the silence will be one, and again his rib cage descends and rises, descends and rises. Always in time, heavy breathing, an empty shell, ready to die, ready to find himself again, to find himself, to find where he will be together with his spirit again.

A couple of pickups would be nice, I would definitely be happy about it ^^