Written because even after all these years, my two favorite DBZ characters still hold dear to my heart, and there's not enough child/parent interaction fanfics in the world.

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ, but you knew that already, right?

Angel Tears

It was a cool October night at Mt. Paozu, where a restless wind tossed about, screeching as it tore through frail branches of trees. Heavy rain fell from the dark skies above, where jagged paths of lightning would light the night briefly. This harsh thunderstorm brought the needed rain to the plants and trees, and fear to the heart of a little boy.

Cozy but terrified beneath his quilt, young Son Goten trembled violently, bringing the quilt up to his chin. He squeezed his eyes shut in hopes that the thunderstorm would go away.

But it did not, and it made his heart work harder, throbbing behind his little chest.

Having enough of the torment for the past ten minutes, Goten swung the quilt off him, grabbed his stuffed dinosaur, and slid out of bed. Clutching the beloved green toy to his chest, Goten shuffled along the carpet out of his room.

His eyes gazed uncertainly at the nearest room in the hallway. Gohan wouldn't be very happy if he went in there and woke him up. And besides, he had mentioned something about an exam tomorrow, and all Goten knew was that it was important, and he needed much rest.

Turning away, the youngest Son child resumed his pace toward the next door he saw.

I'm startled as I hear a noise suddenly. I quickly rise from reclining in bed and flick on a lamp on the nightstand at my bedside. If I hadn't breathed the next moment, I wouldn't have been able to hear the soft rapping of knuckles against my bedroom door. I almost speak, but instead I hear a gentle voice. Yet it seemed to carry something else too. Fear.

"Mommy? Are ya awake? Can I come in?"

I become concerned upon hearing that voice, and grant the knocker permission to enter the room. As I see Goten walk in, I hear the small pitter-patter of his feet on the carpet—the same sound I heard before.

I do not smile; something is bothering my youngest child. I see the worry and fear written on his face. He holds his favorite stuffed animal close to him and stands timidly before me, gazing at his bare feet, as if he were embarrassed.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" I ask Goten. I never liked to see him so scared.

He doesn't answer for a moment, his dark eyes full of uneasiness. He places one foot on top of the other, his toes fumbling with each other. He loosens his grip on the dinosaur and finally looks up at me, almost apologetically.

"I'm scared, Mommy," he whispers, and resumes hanging his head.

I just want to take him in my arms and hold him close to me. So I do. I kneel before him and scoop him in my arms, letting him bury his face in my chest. "This storm has got you scared, doesn't it, baby?" I murmur to him, smoothing his soft, dark hair.

He nods against my chest, and I return to sit on my bed, holding him silently for several moments. After being calmed, Goten settles next to me, seeming satisfied. The dinosaur lies casually, almost forgotten, by the edge of the bed. I look at Goten and ask, "Would you feel better if you slept with Mommy tonight?"

The light from the lamp dances in his huge eyes, and Goten nods, smiling brightly. "Yes. I like that a lot."

I return the smile and lie down. "Okay," I say to him softly, and dim the light from the lamp. I reach for the blanket to pull over both of us, but I feel the warmth of Goten's little hand on top of my own. I stop and make eye contact with him.

"Mommy," he starts worriedly, and I see the concerned look he got from me. "Why were you crying?"

His words both surprise and confuse me, but then it began to make sense to me. I hadn't been sleeping at all during these night hours. I had been fighting these tears that stream down my face whenever I think about my late husband. I hadn't dried them when I heard Goten knocking at the door, and I hadn't tried to dry them anytime before. More would just keep coming. Goten must have felt the light dampness of my shirt when I held him close.

"It's okay," I attempt to tell Goten confidently, and give him half a smile. "I'm not sad anymore. I have you now."

It's true. I only have Goten, and Gohan of course too. I don't know how we manage to do this—to live without Goku, but we somehow get by everyday, through the tears, pain, and heartache.

Goten appears to study me a bit, and when our eyes meet, my heart grows tight in my chest. I have to fight with even more effort not to weep in front of him right now. Kami, he looks so much like Goku, I think helplessly, and try not to let all the memories of my love rush back into my mind... I want to look away, but am unable to do so. I can't help but wonder what Goten is thinking... After his unprolonged observation, which I was grateful for, lest I fall apart, my son seems to believe me.

"'Kay," Goten says easily, and lies down, snuggling close to me. That action undoubtedly melts my heart, and I lean over to plant a kiss on his head.

"G'night, Mommy. I love you."

Hearing him say that in his sweet voice, and the mispronunciation of the words 'good night' makes a sincere smile appear on my face, and I keep telling myself how blessed I am to have such a beautiful son.

"Good night, baby. I love you too," I whisper, and run a hand through his hair. I take the stuffed dinosaur he had forgotten and slip it in his arms. I resume stroking his hair, gazing lovingly at his angelic face.

I love this boy.

He's the last thing I have to remember Goku by, and my son is the greatest treasure I have. Everyday, I learn something new from taking care of Goten, and I see more and more why I can live my life.

My fingers gently trace the side of his face, and brush across his soft cheek. He looks so much like Goku... It seems that the children I bore always seemed to have more of their father's genes. Even Gohan is starting to really resemble his father as he grows into a strong and handsome teenager, just like when I met Goku again at the 22nd Tenkaichi Budokai.

But Goten… He's been the carbon copy of Goku since birth, and now he is four years old. He's not Goku's carbon copy just in looks, but in innocence and extracting the deepest love out of me.

I sigh softly and smile as I hear Goten's deep breathing, and I know he's truly sleeping in peace now. The thunderstorm that scared him so has dwindled into soft rain outside. I had once told Goten that rain was the angels' tears.

He had asked why the angels in Heaven cried, and I told him many sad things happen in the world. That day, he looked up at me and asked if I were an angel. He noted that I cried frequently, but had no idea it was due to the fact I hadn't fully adapted to Goku's permanent absence.

He also mentioned that I was pretty like an angel, like in the stories I read him at night. He smiled and said he wasn't the only one who thought I was an angel. He had clearly remembered an obvious conversation he had with his brother.

I look down at Goten and sigh again. "I'm nowhere near being an angel," I whisper to him. "But you certainly are." I close my eyes, seeking true peace myself. I wish to go to sleep in someone's arms, like Goten is in mine.

"The angels are crying now, Goten. But don't you cry. I don't want to see you sad…"

His sympathetic heart nearly broke when I told him that angels cried. Angels were humans not on Earth, he had said, but they cry and miss the ones on Earth, and the Earth angels miss their friends in Heaven. Mommy and Daddy miss each other... I guess that's why he next asked if I was an angel.

Angels are people who are incredibly kind, wonderful, unselfish and loving, I had explained to him. They always help people and are sweet and innocent in everything they do. They never think of themselves and want the best for everyone.

"Your father was an angel, you know..."

My hero, Goku, who is everything I described... How could someone want to be so evil toward a man who has done nothing but love and protect his family, friends and planet he lives on? I don't understand it. I don't understand how, in leaving to protect everyone, he has taken a piece of my heart and soul, but has left me something wonderful to fill that same void. I don't deserve this... I don't deserve and understand a lot of things...

"Does that make me an angel too, Mommy?"

It sure does.

I feel myself slowly nodding off, the warmth of Goten's body keeping me peaceful. It's amazing. More than anything, I had wanted my husband to be the one to comfort me at this hour, but instead, my son has provided the consolation I desperately needed. That's more reason to love him.

To love my angel.