Maybe I'm Making Excuses

Published: October 2014

Author: Mystic Dodo

A/N: Maybe I'll one day stop focusing on the period after the Cell Saga... maybe.

Gohan, my son.

I know you've been hurting all these years. I know you're still in pain. I know you're confused and angry and disappointed and ashamed.

The choice to stay in the Otherworld after my demise was, I admit, quite spur of the moment. I saw how much you hated to fight… of course it took quite a lot of yelling from our friends for me to understand that. Believe it or not, I decided to stay dead so that you wouldn't need to fight anymore. The enemies came to me but if I weren't there, there would be no danger, no reason for you to do what you only done to make me proud.

Chichi and I, we spoke a lot when she was pregnant with you. My life style of fighting barely paid the bills. We were only lucky due to the World Martial Arts Tournament and your Grandfather. We barely had an education. We couldn't do much else with our lives… but you. You had so much potential. Perhaps we were living through you. We wanted you to have the best, to be the best, so that you could have what we never did. You could have an honourable name for yourself, a good income, no stress about food or heating or…

It sounds like I'm making excuses. Perhaps I am.

Of course I wanted you to be a fighter like me. You're my son too. I wanted to show you what I had been taught, to bond with you in a way that I didn't really think I could do in anyway else. I was disappointed when Chichi forbade training. I know she has had moments of thinking the same. If you were stronger, if I were stronger…

I had never been more terrified in my life than when my so called brother took you, screaming in fear, away from me. Never had I felt so powerless or hopeless. Maybe I trained to keep you safe. Maybe I trained because after being told about the origin of my past, of my humanity, something didn't feel quite right within myself.

I was barely there as you grew up, Gohan, and when I was I was hardly a father to you. More of a trainer, a teacher, coaching you how to harness your power. Oh, what power you had. Perhaps I trained you because I was curious. Envious, maybe. I knew you were special. I was blinded by it. When Cell was crushing you I stood by, watched, a smile on my face because I knew - I thought – that it would be the key to releasing your inner potential. Pain. Anger. Especially anger… Instead it turned out to be your feelings of complete and utter hopelessness to protect the ones that you loved. I admit, I had you figured all wrong. I had done all of the preparation wrong.

Your power was spellbinding.

My little man. I was proud of you for other things than fighting, you know. I was proud of how you kept your mother happy. I was proud of the dedicated, stubborn mindset you had. I was so very proud of you and I still am. You handled my latest death well. You got on with life. You were bursting with pre-adolescent energy that you poured into seeing our friends, into figuring out how to help out your Mum. I don't claim to understand your mother all the time, son, but she did love to see you happy. She only wanted what was best.

As horrible as this may sound, I figured she entered you into the Intergalactic Martial Arts Tournament because of the prize money. It would be another few years before you could make a name for yourself and, well, I remember her saying to me a few days before the Games, when you were sleeping, that money was getting tight again. Instead of my death I had been thinking about what I could do to help out. With a car we would be able to do some simple work to bring in the income.

Of course, things didn't work out the way I thought they would. And, weeks later, when King Kai told me of Bojack I felt scared. You were supposed to be safe. Everyone was. And yet it was like I was watching the Cell Games all over again as you were crushed against Bojack's chest, screaming in pain, coughing up blood. Those screams… I couldn't stand listening to them again. I couldn't stand by and watch you get killed by my foolish actions. I didn't want to repeat the same mistake.

Gosh, was my ass handed to me for breaking the rules and using Instant Transmission to get to Earth, to save you like I should have just weeks prior. I didn't care. I got to hold you for a few seconds.

I could sense the fear in your heart. You didn't want to go Super Saiyan 2 again, in case you lost yourself. In case there was no one there who could help you return to your human senses. You were so very scared and I'm wholly to blame for that. I never taught you properly. I was never there to help you control the saiyan side, only exploit it.

You done it, though. You turned and protected the Earth. You saved them all and you remained yourself. You were okay.

I was busy after that, participating in the Other World Tournament. I was… neglectful. I knew all about the comforts given to those left behind by loved ones; about how they watched from the heavens to make sure that things were okay. I let my one minded nature take over and I trained and sparred and trained some more.

All the while you began to deteriorate. You began to crumble under your own thoughts. Had my interference with Bojack only hindered you yet again? Gohan, I'm so sorry. It hurts me to see a glimpse of your inner turmoil. I admit that I try to block it out, to ignore it. To pass it off as hormones or as stress.

I've never been a good father to you. My fatherly instincts were out of tune, clashing with your actual needs and desires… Maybe it was easier for me to stay away because I didn't want to mess my perfect little boy up. Either way I lost, and I can sometimes feel it, within my soul, the way you hurt. A terrible reminder of all my failures. I can already see that Goten – you've done such a great job with him – is way happier than you ever were.

In many ways I regret my superficially selfless reasons to stay dead… but despite all of this, Earth has stayed safe. You don't have to fight again. You don't have to ever be Super Saiyan 2. You don't need to take up my footsteps. Taking down petty criminals as the Great Saiyaman is nothing in comparison to what I had in mind for you. Perhaps you can't let fighting go entirely… or is it that pretty raven haired girl that inspires you?

Gohan. My little Gohan. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for misunderstanding. I'm sorry for being a coward. I'm sorry for not being there. Most of all I'm sorry for the suffering and pain you still go through; the confusion and hurt.

Yet I'm going to be selfish yet again. I want to see you. I want to see my wife, my youngest son, my friends. I need to see that you're going to be okay. I used to be your World.

24 hours can't cause too much damage, can it?