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this is a story i wrote at three in the morning tell me what you think







Today he had stared failure in the eye and refused to back down. Blood dripped from a horrific amount of wounds, most of them superficial, the other few too deep for comfort. Visible scars, he knew, would be few; as such, the ones that would never completely fade would be large and eye-catching--the perfect reminder of the battle he nearly lost.

He stepped into the shower, numb to the pain the near-scolding water ushered as it stormed against his battered body. The cuts, burns, and gashes needed the dust and dirt washed out; he knew of no easier way to do it. His eyes dragged shut as he leaned against the wall; he allowed the steady stream of water pound into the worst of his injuries, pressuring out grime and blood alike. The smell of diluted blood besieged his olfactory perception: he stifled the urge to dry heave.

His head swam, although he knew not the particular reason why. Hunger pained his stomach, although the thought of food was less than appetizing at the moment; too much blood had fled his veins--still was fleeing--or so his lowered body temperature indicated; the very smell of blood presently nauseated him; exhaustion and the tail end of an adrenaline rush weighed his body down; and, finally, he was fresh out of ki. Tyler chose to blame the one cause that wasn't on the list: the utterly consuming fear of failure and the overwhelming relief that came with victory.

With no one to fall back on, no one to fix his mistakes, living to fight another day was what should have mattered. Even in this era of peace he had supposedly ushered for his world, living to fight another day was all that mattered. With peace came the misconception of finality--a misconception that had ultimately instigated the end of what had once been an implicitly invincible team. He would not make the same mistake: he would not allow himself to become lazy, nor would he allow his guard down. All it would take to destroy his world was one mistake--one bad day, one sloppy punch, one ill-conceived strategy. Such was the pressure of being the sole hope for a devastated world at its most vulnerable.Tyler swiped a lone fluffy blue towel from the curtain rail, wrapped it around his waist, and hoped it would curtail the blood streaming from the deep slashes on his back. Very much aware and uncaring of the bloody footprints left in his wake, he painfully made his way to his bedroom.Half-tempted to fall atop his bed and allow his heavy eyelids to close, yet very much aware of the consequences of such a moronic idea, Tyler sluggishly gathered a pair of briefs, socks, and baggy dark sweatpants and dawned each article of clothing. With more speed than he realized he possessed at the moment, he had the towel off the ground and haphazardly bunched around his naked abdomen.

With all the warning of one of his own emotional outbursts--which never warranted much warning, even Tyler would admit--a wave of vertigo slammed into him, darkening his vision with fuzzy spots and agitating his balance. He stumbled backwards, realizing only a moment before it happened that his back was going to very painfully clash with the wall. Fortunately for his mother, Tyler had long since ceased kissing her; as such, she had no need to concern herself with the filthy words that tore from her son's throat at that particular moment.

Trembling, Tyler closed his eyes and calmed himself. For years, raw determination had been his one constant, the one thing that drove him to beat the odds and survive time and time again. It had won him today's battle, and it would not dispel into hiatus until he fell into an all-out Saiyajin slumber



Tyler walked out of his room and downstairs into the kitchen where his mother sat at the table working on her latest invention Tyler could sense his mother's apprehension, her nervousness, her guilt. But he was unable to sense where the first two emotions were coming from and why she was feeling them, blood dripped from his wounds and onto the floor, his mother turned and noticed her sons bloody and battered body "oh my god sweety are you ok, what happened?

exaustion had taken over the young hybrids body, Tyler stumbled and fell to the floor causing red crimson to spill out from his body his mother ran to his side but Tyler passed out before she could get to him

Tyler was in and out of it, delusions filled his head he couldn't tell weather he was alive or dead

Had he been even partly coherent, or had he had the slightest amount of energy left, Tyler would have been concerned. His mother refused to meet his eyes, all but ignored him until she was ready to attempt to treat his injuries. Not only was her evasion a cause for undue stress, but he could easily tell that she was having difficulties.

This was a stupid ritual. Years earlier, his mother would have had a reason to treat battle wounds: no one else would do it. West Capital--Capsule Corporation included--had been devastated by the Androids. As such, there had been an overall lack of medical doctors left in the area. But, now, West Capital, although nowhere near its previous size, was rebuilt and bustling with life. Doctors, despite their lack of knowledge of and experience with Saiyajin, were well on hand.

He felt cold, which was strange in and of itself. He could feel the coolness of his mother's stainless steal lab table, but feeling the temperature of an object and being cold because of it were two entirely different concepts. Saiyajin did not become cold due to contact with moderately cool objects.

"It's cold."

"You've lost a lot of blood. Even for a Saiyajin."

Tyler layed his head back and closed his eyes

It was a bit comforting (or maybe it was disconcerting; he couldn't be sure) to know that his Saiyajin heritage couldn't account for everything. He already knew that Saiyajin could drown, and, apparently, they could bleed to death. What he didn't know was why he was still thinking of the Saiyajin race as if he weren't the only one still drawing breath.

Laying on his mother's lab table, he felt as though he were one of her mechanical playthings. Melodramatically more than philosophically, simply because that's where his overtired mind was taking him, he was a machine. A killing machine, but not an Android. He was type that killed that which needed to be killed. It was his purpose, had been since his birth. He had done a lot of killing in his time; when he wasn't killing, he was training to kill. A shame, it really was, that his hair and eyes ruined the otherwise perfect Saiyajin personailty he had going on.

Laughable.

Buzzing around the very edge of his consciousness were the sounds of water running and of an object being thrown away. There was warmth around his chest and abdomen, although he knew not what it could be. Again, however, if he could have been bothered with concern, he would have been worried over the complete lack of warmth in the rest of his body.

Gnawing at his mind was a presence and the repetition of motions that surely he couldn't have missed before now. There was a soft feminine voice, barely audible even to his enhanced Saiyajin hearing. Concentrating, forcing himself to care about what was happening, he mentally put the puzzle together. His mom was stroking his hair and talking. She was apologizing. Over and over again, she was apologizing. He could smell her tears over the suffocating stench of his dried blood.

Tyler was drawn back to a time when he was still his mother's baby boy, when being loved and loving was simple. To a time when there was an unbreakable trust, an understanding between them. He remembered when she didn't fear his inherent nature, when she didn't fear the day when he lost control and used his power against the world he'd dedicated his life to safeguarding. He remembered when his mother would never have mistaken him for his father and when she wholly trusted him. He remembered when he trusted her to never take advantage of his sedated state and go behind his back to the laboratory, when her promises meant sincerity.

She began her work, first and foremost ripping off tape and securing the needle in his arm, intent on dedicating herself to him before all else. She would have plenty of time to dwell on the biggest mistake of her life, after she gave Tylers' body the boost it needed to pull him through. The coolness of his skin was enough to send shivers through her and make her want to pull away; instead, her eyes darted to his chest and didn't so much as blink until she saw concrete signs of his breathing.

"Good boy, Tyler."

She taped the IV tubing to his arm in multiple places, layering the transparent tape sometimes five times; she did so in order to ensure that Tyler had time to rethink any assault he might initiate against the line, tape, and needle. Bulma detoured the tubing onto the top of his hand, instead of in his palm, again as a preemptive measure to make certain that Tyler had a harder time causing any damage.

Beneath his maturity, and beneath the almost cold exterior he put forth for all to see, he was a rebellious troublemaker. Hints of his inherent mischievous personality had been revealed over the recent months, most likely without his realizing it. But she had taken notice, and it pleased her greatly. She gave him rules to break, because she knew that he would break them. She gave him opportunities to mouth off, because he had inherited her smart mouth and razor sharp mind. She loved the occasional glint in his eyes, the smirks he thought no one saw. That said, she wouldn't put it past him to unconsciously undo the IV just to do it--and also because he had a major dislike of that which he did not know.

"That bad?"

His mothers breath caught in her throat, startled by the suddenness of his voice, even as weak as it was. She met her son's placid eyes, instantly noticing the drug-induced glaze. He was barely lucid, evidently only awake to investigate the new additions to his arm. It was a breath of fresh air to see him so emotionally open--as readable as children's book in a college library--and tranquil, even if it was a direct byproduct of his being besotted on enough drugs to kill a regular human twenty times over. That her son could only be so unguardedly content when he was high saddened her.

"Yes, it's that bad, in case you managed to miss all the blood you leaked all over my house."

his mother smiled, hoping that he would return her sarcasm. The rapport they shared was one of near-constant sarcastic banter. She needed a return to normalcy, even a short-lived one.

Tyler cracked a return smile and muttered a sarcastic "so sorry."

his mother's smile widened, all the while observing that he was gradually drifting into slumber. "Tyler, remember to not pull any of this out, okay? This is your own blood, and, believe me, we don't have much of it. You waste it, you're on your own."

"Thought it was all over the house."

She opened her mouth to reply, but her words would have been cast upon closed ears. He was long gone, blissfully buzzed with painkillers and dead to the world once more

She kissed Tyler on the forhead and left the room and returned upstairs to clean up the mess



~ 2 days later~



Tyler awoke to the sound of running water, his body was still sore but his wounds had completly healed

the hybrid rose from the metal lab table he begin to slowly remove the needles out of his body

Tyler tryed to stand by his legs didn't want to work they were not used to being asleep for 2 days

and neither was his body, Tyler stumbled through the room and up to the main house, holding on to things so he wouldn't fall.

Later he found his mother hung over some paper work in her office, She looked up and noticed her son in the door way

"Good to see your alive and kicking" she mad a smart ass remark picking at her son

this was her way of sarcasim to keep from screaming or going insane he knew she needed this, she needed escape, repreave from this world she needed happiness and he was only adding to her sadness by being there with her. he could see the sadness in her eyes he could see that she was afraid of what her son had become, a bloodthirsty killing machine that he was more dangerous that his father, she always became so tense when her son entered the room for she had no idea what her son was going to do to her

she always wondered if the andoids had turned her son into what he was or maybe it was the past that killed his innocenses and then there was the possiblilty that watching gohan die infront of him could have brought out the killer in him and made him snap

he slowly walked over to his mother gaining control of his body again, she got up and hugged him

deep down inside the cold interrior and pain and anguish she could fell a soft gentle touch to him

but she could also feel how sad he was and how bitter he was from a lifetime of killing and pain

Humor was not entirely lost on him. He found many things humorous--some because they were intended to be as such; others, simply because he was bitter, jaded, and most likely in need of therapy. Often times, the mere fact that something was intended to be humorous and was found to be humorous was not enough reason for him to crack a smile or to laugh.

He had seen too much in his lifetime--a lifetime which was not even the span of a lifetime. Twenty-three years, to be exact, was his definition of a lifetime thus far, although he was technically twenty-five years old due to his time spent in the mystical Room of Spirit and Time. Genocide; mutilation; the death of, for all intents and purposes, his brother; his own death... He had seen everything there was to be seen in the world, both horribly bad and overwhelmingly good. Was there a reason to be openly happy?

Optimistically, he should have already taken what remained of his life and begun to really, truly live it. Live it for himself, not for revenge or for the victims of a world gone unimaginably wrong, which was much more easier said than actually done. For starters, he had no one to pick up his slack. Quite literally, when he fought it was all or nothing, a sudden death game for the fate of the earth. Try as he might, he couldn't consciously relax and enjoy his life when he knew that the earth may one day need his unique Saiyajin power and stamina again. It just wasn't something that he knew how to do. Smiling and laughing on a regular basis, unfortunately, fell into the same category.

While the aged movie on the Comedy Network was funny, and he knew it was funny, he had little to no chance in favor of an overbearing laugh. Which was a shame. Really. if something just didn't feel...wrong. His instincts were telling him that something was up, or would be up, and his instincts had seldom failed him over the years. His instincts said "run," he ran, and it ended up being a good thing that he had ran. That was cut and dry for Tyler.

"Tyler what is it"? his mother noticed something was wrong with Tyler

Static and white noise horizontally slid over the television screen, the picture twisting and blurring out of focus. Outside he could hear the wind unnaturally pick up, the leaves on the trees rustle. He felt a ki, strong but not strong enough, definitely dark and originating in a place only nightmares sprang from.

Cut and dry.

In one second flat he blinked out of the living room and into his bedroom, shoving shoes onto his feet and acquiring his sword purely out of habit he grabed his mother And then he was out the window, long gone before the shattered glass reached the ground.



When Tyler reached outside he had no idea what he was upaginst, he could feel the dark power that threatened his life

this was another day that he would fight for everything that he knew and put it all on the line like he did time and time again



He sat his mother down and faced the horrible threat Broly ..he was back and this time he wanted revenge



It had been a sure win for him. This Sayian, BioBroly, designed by docter gero had been built with just enough power to have been able to defeat Goku just after he returned from Namek, Super Saiyajin abilities not included. Tyler was steadily working his way towards Super Saiyajin Three, if there was such a level. On paper, BioBroly hadn't a chance whatsoever of even landing a lucky punch on Tyler.

Tyler hadn't begun the fight with the customary "warm up," which translated into "testing the waters." He had gone straight in, taken Broly head on, and had proved to be absolutely relentless. As for the android, it was mute--either by choice or by design, Tyler didn't know nor did he particularly care. It showed no sign of having a capacity for higher independent thinking. It fought back the best it could against a Super Saiyajin Two, which, unfortunately for it, just wasn't good enough. .

Ten minutes into the "fight," if it could be called such a thing, and the android appeared as if it were floored. It laid on the ground on its back, unmoving. Craters littered the once level ground, and shallow trenches had been dug into the ground by the android's body. The land looked just as it should when a Saiyajin was playing.

A part of Tyler was sorely disappointed by the lack of challenge. A fight was invigorating and a welcome change in his mundane life. That, and he had looked forward to the chance to give Super Saiyajin Two a run. Another part of Tyler was joyous that this opponent had turned out to be nothing more than a bad joke. Afterall, a bad joke had not the ability to kill.

Honestly, the part of him that wanted an impossible challenge to impossibly beat disgusted Tyler. He had seen what the Saiyajin need for a fight lead to: dumbass decisions and an impossibly impossible challenge that got so many people needlessly killed. An adrenaline rush wasn't worth lives.

Tyler narrowed his eyes and raised his right hand, fully prepared to blow the android's head off at point blank range. He nearly felt guilty: the android never stood a chance. But that hadn't stopped Juuhachigou and Juunanagou, it wouldn't stop broly, and it sure as hell wasn't going to stop Tyler.

"Jaa ne."

Tyler released the equivalent of a small nuclear bomb out of the palm of his hand, completely engulfing the android. He had planned to wait until the smoke cleared to leave, just to be sure. The only problem was that there was no smoke. Tyler watched, his expression transforming from smugly disgusted to emotionlessly blank. His blast had been absorbed and a great aid to the smirking android.

The only warning given to Tyler was the slight shift of air, and that warning came just as the android shot forward, seizing Tyler wrist in a vice-like hold. Tyler scowled, tried for a bone-crushing punch, but found that his target was suddenly behind him. Tyler was given no time to turn, to retaliate before the android's hidden blades popped out from his knuckles, became alit with ki, and deeply embedded in and dragged across the right side of Tyler' back.

If His father had taught him one lesson, it was pride. As such, the android would never have the satisfaction of hearing him scream. Not even when the piece of trash had him locked in a full nelson and was leisurely sapping his ki from his body would he scream. He wouldn't scream even when he felt that he was becoming less and less capable of saving himself as the seconds flickered by. Super Saiyajin Two became impossible to maintain, with his grasp on Super Saiyajin One slipping away seconds later.

It clicked in his mind: this was it. This was the day he was going to die. Years of training, years of struggling, years of defending this world rendered insignificant in as little as sixty seconds. He had single-handedly desecrated every battle fought for the sake of the world. In Tyler's eyes, it was bitterly, laugh out loud funny. He never would have guessed that broly would kill him.

"Jaa ne."

And then he was alone, falling to the ground and in no capacity to pad his collision with either ki or an arm. He sensed his own power signature lackadaisically flying towards West Capital; the bastard was in no hurry. Tyler' only coherent thoughts were that of "big shit" and an oh so polite "holy fuck."

How had this happened?

Now, he supposed, was the time when the ghost of the real Goku, Gohan, or perhaps even his father came for the pep talk. If so, he would tell whichever one of them to shut up. Giving up wasn't giving up when there was nothing left to give. End of story. He'd made a good run, survived twenty-three years of hell, and even managed to make at least one world a better place. He gave countless individuals futures, gave Gokuu's second son a chance at life, and saved his past self a world of pain. Somehow, it didn't seem like it was enough. But it would have to do.

An explosion rang in the distance. Birds flocked overhead.

There was one thing that Tyler hated about himself: his conscience and determination. Somehow, someway, he had subconsciously adopted the mantra of, "Where there isn't a will, there's gonna be a way." That said, as long as he was alive, Tyler wouldn't allow himself the luxury of defeat.

Life was ki. As long as he had life, he had strength and he had power. And he had the pride, enough of it to never allow himself to be defeated by a being substantially weaker than himself. He also had a world to protect, just because he'd said that he would. Death had to wait just a while longer. This was the day he couldn't die.

Tyler stood, ignoring the pain and fatigue, taking himself to a state of mind that allowed for him to completely disregard his personal well-being and concentrate fully on the task at hand. Anger fueled his tenacity, gave him the resolve he needed to see this through. He floated into the air, locking onto the figure in the far distance.

Dead. It was dead. It was going to be dead. If he didn't have a reason to kill it before, he had one now: people were dead. What scared him was that he wanted to kill it, he needed to kill it.

An aura of red engulfed him; his ki flared, it burned, it whipped around him in red flames as he flew. Vaguely, he was aware that his ki was no longer that of a non-killer, for murder was all that he had in mind.

Tyler didn't hear himself screaming, and he never felt his hair growing or his muscles bulging. Later, he would faintly recall an exponential increase in speed, strength, and agility. Perhaps or perhaps not he would realize that, against all reason and logic, he had attained Super Saiyajin Three. And not because he needed to even ascend past Super Saiyajin to defeat this android, but because his desperation, his fear of failure, and his anger stemming from the knowledge that a weak android had attacked his city gave him a seldom-achieved drive to reach such a level. Basically, why the hell not? This was the day he wasn't going to die--might as well make it that much better.



Tyler blinked and apeared in front of brolly, his hair waved in and out down his back with a hellish red glow

his ki whipped around his body

he could sense fear in this android that looked like brolly the bastard Gero had taken brollys blood sample and recreated the killing machine but it was still flawed just like any other freak that the mad man tryed to create and was in the end destroyed

Tyler stood unmoving. Juunanagou growled in frustration at his actions and leaped forward in a quick even stride. At the end of his stride Brolly kicked through solid air as Tyler steped back, looking like he expected the move all along.

Brolly gritt his teeth and swung his left fist at him blindly. Tylers hand shot up and caught it efortlessly. brolly bit his tongue to keep from crying out when Tyler crushed his hand as if it were a paper cup. Tyler pulled him in and kneed him hard in the gut. Brolly fell to his knees coughing up blood. Tyler stared at him as if he were the most pitful thing he'd ever seen.

"Get up. . .I'll spare you disgrace of dying on your knees."

Brolly saw red at those words and stood up quickly, preparing to strike Tyler at the first oportunity.

Tyler placed his hands in a triangle shape in front of him and calle dout. "BURNING ATTACK."White energy isued forth from his hands like flood waters and enveloped Brolly

Tylers face turned from a grin to hate as he saw that Brolly was still alive and not even a scratch was on his form

Brolly shot at Tyler he struck blindly at him in a rapid flow of punches and kicks that he dodged with little effort

Tyler knew that this fight was already over

He flew to the air as placed his hands in a triangle again "NOW DIE"!!!!!

Tyler released a explosion that shook the earth and felt like an atomic bomb and expected to obliterate him but brolly wasn't ready to die just yet, The android raised his hands to the air and released a blast that collided with Tylers, there was an energy struggle between the two forces

brolly seemed to be getting stronger by the minute within a matter of seconds Tyler became weak and was stuggleing to hold his form of Super Sayain 3

"this is it i'm going to die now and there's nothing i can do" Tyler begain to give up and lose hope that he would win this fight, he was running out of energy and fast He couldn't belive that it had come to this

he had beating the androids saved a world from death and hell and this is how he was going to die

the Earth begain to crumble beneath him, Tyler fell to his knees while still fighting to fend off brollys blast



"WHAT ARE U DOING? you have all the power you need you just have to let it out" Tyler looked around but couldn't see anyone, he began to think he was going crazy from the lost of energy and fatigue

"mom is that you? i can't see you" Tyler could swear the voice sounded as if it were next to him "you can beat him but you have let out your power

are you willing to let brolly destroy the earth, look past your fear you can do it and remember sweetie ....i love you" Tyler knew what he had to do, he wasn't going to let this monster destroy his world, he had fought to damn hard to let another android destroy his world again

Tyler rose to his feet his ki whipped around him and torn at the sky in a hellish red

he looked deep within himself and tapped into his life force, he pushed everything he had,his life,his passion into the blast he screamed till his lungs bleed, his eyes turned white as his musles bulged out

Tyler over powered broly with energy, the andoid couldn't hold it anymore the blast consumed him and tore at his metal form destroying him piece by piece till nothing was left of him

Tyler, fitigued and sucked dry of energy feel to the ground, his clothes were torn and full of blood

his mother ran to him and held him in her arms

"that you mom"? Tyler's eyes were clouded and starting to slowly close "yes sweetie i'm here,everythings going to be ok" he could see it in her eyes she knew he was going to die, tears ran down her face like a river

"i love you mom" Tyler's head feel, his eyes closed as he slipped into the sweet darkness

"i know sweetie i love you to" she picked her son up in her arms and walked to the car, she gently laid him in the seat then got into the driver side and drove away, later his mother buryed her son next to gohans grave she knew that this is what he would want, in the tomb stone was craved

:in loveing memory of Tyler, a son and a hero.

The End