A/N: As promised, here's the story I'll be writing alongside my other one. I have high hopes for this. It's going to be mature themes as usual so don't read if you don't like, blah, blah. I'm considering taking other OCs in as well to be with other main characters so PM me if you're interested. :) This takes place in our reality but might overlap into the DBZ one, too. Dunno yet.

Warnings: Swearing, lemons, VERY A/U, OOC in some circumstances.

Pairings: Goku/OC; possible other DBZ/OC.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z or anything affiliated with it.

-MalRev

The Ties That Bind

1

Every time I closed my eyes and fell asleep, I had the same dream.

The doctors called in an anomaly when I was younger but I liked to refer to it as a curse. It wasn't a pleasant dream I could look forward to being replayed over and over again in my head night after night. No, it was a nightmare, one of the gut-wrenching, wake-up-in-a-sweaty-panic ones. After all the years I had to grow accustomed to it and prepare for the ultimate outcome I still couldn't get one solid night of sleep. It didn't matter how many sleeping pills I took or what food I ate or how much I exercised. It was always the same outlandish thing repeating every time I drifted off…

A tall man stood a few feet in front of me, wearing strange clothes that shone brightly in the darkness. His hair was thick and black, standing out in all different directions like he never brushed it. I was hiding behind a bush as I watched him stare at the moon in the clearing and he suddenly laughed. My eyes widened when he turned around to face me and I noticed he had black eyes. It almost looked like he was possessed. He pointed a finger at me and beckoned for me to emerge from my hiding place.

"Come here, little human," he said. "I know you're there. Why avoid your fate?"

My whole body was trembling violently as I rose from the spot and stepped into the clearing. The stranger folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. He was big. That was one thing that always stood out to me the most. Sometimes I'd pick up other details, like the color of the leaves or what animals were watching us from the woods. I took a step closer and stopped when he motioned for me not to move. He grinned, showing off horrible fangs and began circling me like a vulture. It took all of my strength to stand in that spot.

"You're all so puny. Fragile and breakable." He was suddenly behind me with his hands on both of my shoulders. "I'm going to enjoy this much more than you will."

Before the sweet release of consciousness could save me from the rest of the nightmare, the man spun me around with a wild look in his eyes. Confused, I struggled in his grasp. Usually I woke up after the threat and that was that. He never had his hands on me for very long and even if he did, he never looked so… human. The black in his eyes receded to show he had golden irises and he shook me violently to get me to focus on him instead of staring vaguely into space.

"Who are you?" he asked. "Why do I keep coming here every night? Answer me!"

"I-I don't know!"

I quickly clasped a hand over my mouth. Since when did I speak in the dream?

The man's eyes were pleading and desperate. "Please, if you know anything, tell me! I keep coming here and I've never been able to say anything until now. I don't know why. You must know something. Where do you live? Over in Satan City? I'm at the base of Mt. Paozu."

The scream preceded me flying up in bed, drenched in sweat. Even after I was fully awake I kept panting heavily, looking around my small room for any signs of an intruder. My black cat, Peter, was curled at the foot of my bed and opened one green eye to watch me with what I thought was amusement. I put one hand to my chest to feel my frantic heartbeat and flopped back down in bed, trying to relax. My alarm clock told me it was only 5AM so I still had a couple of hours to sleep before work.

"Thanks for your concern," I called to my cat.

He yowled in response.

It became evident after a half hour that I wasn't going to be sleeping again anytime soon so I crawled out of bed to get a glass of water and a snack. I shuffled through my apartment to the kitchen and did just that, settling on crackers with cheese to fill my stomach and calm my nerves. Peter followed me, always eager to get a free treat and I rolled my eyes before dropping him a sliver of cheese. I sat in one of the chairs by my table and nibbled thoughtfully on a cracker, surprised that my dream had changed.

The doctor I had as a little girl also believed I was adopted—both of my parents were blondes and I turned out with the darkest hair you could imagine. He was kind of insane but meant well. Unfortunately, when he passed away I also lost the only person who had a mild understanding of my repeating nightmare. No doctor believed me when I insisted the same dream haunted me every night. They told me I was imagining things, or I just thought the same dream was coming back when in reality it was changing very slightly. I rubbed my eyes tiredly and took a sip of water.

Exhaustion was my constant companion. I was so used to not sleeping that I barely lay down for more than three hours at night. My friends all knew why I had bags under my eyes and they all cheered with me when I managed to sleep for six hours. Still, I couldn't go my entire life not sleeping. I was only twenty-two but I was starting to feel the costliness of my nightmares throughout my body. Sleep deprivation was making it hard to exercise and focus on work, which was really important when you worked at a desk job. Losing focus always meant falling asleep.

Sometimes I wondered if the strange man was someone I was destined to meet. I'd spent many a night wandering the town in search of him but I never came up with anything conclusive. He was a figment of my imagination; a representation of some inner trauma I couldn't come to grips with. The nightmares started when I was eleven so it was very possible I had repressed an event before that.

I dropped my forehead on the table when Peter leapt up, purring for more cheese. The prognosis was poor for me. At best, I'd only live until I was thirty. People needed eight hours of sleep every night that were unrestricted by night terrors. Technically I could get power naps in here and there that added up to the essential eight but that never seemed to help. I yawned obnoxiously and raised my head to come face-to-face with Peter, who hadn't given up on his quest for human food.

"You're ridiculous," I muttered, giving him another small piece.

Soon I made my way back to my warm bed, a.k.a. my worst enemy. I settled down with a book about the Crusades and was getting to the extremely boring stuff that would make me sleep when my cell phone rang. I didn't have to look at the ID to know who it was. No one else would be awake at such an ungodly hour besides my coworker and best friend, Erin. I pressed the answer button and balanced the phone between my shoulder and cheek.

"How'd you know?" I asked.

"Come on, Naomi. I've known you since we were two feet tall. Same old, same old?" Erin shifted in the background, probably getting dressed. "You need to see a doctor again."

"It was… different this time."

"How so? Different hair color or something?"

"No," I said absently, mostly focused on the book, "he addressed me directly. He asked who I was and where I was from. Said something about 'Satan City' and 'Mt. Paozu.' Maybe a guy from Japan is infiltrating my dreams at night. Help me find him and get my life back."

Erin laughed. "Now the strange dude is telling you he lives in a fantasy world? Jesus, you're worse than I thought. I'm heading down to Starbucks before work if you wanna tag along. And by tag along I mean give me a lift there because I don't feel like dealing with the stinky old bus."

"Sure, but you're awfully needy."

She promptly called me a bitch and hung up.

Peter entered the room just as I stood back up and tossed the book carelessly aside. I walked across my plush tan carpet to the closet and picked out my work clothes—khakis and a plain pink blouse. They were already pressed from my sleepless night the day before. I stripped out of my cloud-print pajamas and put them on so Peter couldn't see me half naked for too long. He was a weird cat.

I walked to the bathroom to brush my teeth and pull my thick hair up in a ponytail, then made sure everything was prim and proper for a day at the office. My shift was the same and I liked it. Eight to two left me most of the day to do whatever I wanted when work was out. The apartment I rented was at a fair enough price and in a clean part of town. The doctor recommended I live as stress-free a life as possible and I had done just that to ensure I'd live for a long time. Still, when I woke up in a cold sweat I couldn't help but think it was all in vain. Everyone died.

"Be a good kitty," I said to Peter as I left him his kibble for the day. "I better not come home to any more shredded upholstery or you're getting grounded."

Peter watched me grab my keys and head out the door.