2: Investigation

"What is this thing?!"

Gohan jumped out of the way of a flailing, whip-like limb, tossing an energy blast at it only for it to bounce off and nearly kill Krillin. Piccolo floated above it, trying to find weak points of some sort, but all he could see was red hide and hundreds of thin whips. It was an ugly creature, but it was also resistant to their attacks, and it had already killed a family camping out in the forest by strangling and digesting them. Goku dived and pulled Goten out of the way, the thin arm snaring in on air instead of his son's neck.

"Goten! Get out of here! This thing is dangerous!"

"But, Dad! Let me help! Trunks and I can fuse and beat this thing!"

Goku threw a destructo disk, slicing off a few arms only for them to regrow instantly. "Not this time, kiddo. Gotenks may be powerful, but that's not what we need right now! Go to Capsule Corp and stay with Trunks! Go!"

Goten, not wanting to test his father, decided that retreat was the better part of valour and he was soon arcing through the sky, his energy leaving long vapour trails. The remaining fighters took to the air, circling the bizarre creature but unable to stop its slow progress to the city where it doubtless sensed energy. Goku was about to try block its path with boulders when his ki senses twitched, and he turned around to see Vegeta approaching, his arm encased in a ki blade. It had been six months since he had seen the other Saiyan, and those tattoos were new. Vegeta roared and stabbed the blade into the back of the creature, his energy somehow piercing through it and exploding, vaporising the creature from the inside. Gohan swooped down, smiling broadly.

"Wow, Vegeta! That was great! We've been trying to beat that thing for hours now! I bet you've seen…seen them…why are you bleeding?"

Vegeta grunted as the runes heated up and scorched his skin, seeming to tighten like so many bands around him and determined to bleed him to death. Nausea welled up in his throat and he swallowed against it and the pain.

"Just an inconvenient curse, Gohan. Acts up whenever I am near Saiyans. I recognise this creature, had to kill a few on a planet purge. You simply have to match your energy with its and use a piercing ki attack rather than an ordinary blast."

He scrunched his eyes shut as the pain intensified in warning of his infraction, and he wasn't sure if he was going to puke or pass out. Hopefully one before the other. "I have to go, but tell Trunks I'm sorry, and that I miss him."

Before Gohan could reply, Vegeta blasted away, leaving behind a puddle of blood and a confused Gohan. The teenager floated up towards his father, who was scratching his head.

"At least now I have something to tell Trunks. Poor kid has been devastated by his father's disappearance."

Goku was silent for a moment, looking at the scattered remains of the monster. "So, what's up with Vegeta?"

Gohan frowned, folding his arms. "He said he has some curse…it won't let him near Saiyans. Gods, you should have seen him bleeding, Dad. The markings on his skin turned red and started hurting him. It must have taken considerable will for him to put up with it just to come help us."

Goku said nothing, swallowing hard. Gohan, slightly puzzled by this, leaned towards his father. "Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you not hear what I said?"

Goku's frown dissolved, and he smiled. "Of course I did, Gohan. I was just wondering how Vegeta got cursed."

"I wonder too," mused Gohan. "I'm going to ask Baba about it. Maybe she knows something."

Goku nodded, feeling somewhat uneasy about the whole situation. Something buried very deep was whispering, but he could not understand it, and the discrepancy bothered him. Especially since he felt, for some bizarre reason, that he was the one who had cursed Vegeta. But that was impossible! While the Saiyan had encountered magic in his life, he had never learnt to wield it, and had no idea how he would have been able to restrict Vegeta so.

Well, he deserves it.

"I'll see you later, Dad. Tell Mom I'll be home in time for supper, with luck."

"Alright, son."

Gohan waved and turned away, frowning as he took to the air. Vegeta, for all his high-handedness and general prickliness, had been something of a mentor figure to Gohan over the last seven years. It had been Vegeta and Piccolo who had helped him grieve. It had been the two unlikely allies who had been at his side when everyone else had gone on, used to Goku's disappearances. Vegeta had been the one to teach him to master Super Saiyan two. It had been Piccolo who had dragged him out of his bedroom to get out and stop moping. The two had helped him raise Goten, and Vegeta's knowledge had been so invaluable that ChiChi had even befriended the surly warrior. He truly could not bear to see Vegeta in so much pain and not help. What bothered him as well was his father's apparent indifference.

Slowing in mid-air, he let the thought sink in. Now that he thought about it, his father had not sparred with Vegeta once since they defeated Kid Buu last year. Until that point, he knew his father had wanted a spar with the other Saiyan. So what had changed? It was not like his father to hold grudges, to ignore people and to let them suffer. Surely he had known something was wrong when Vegeta had disappeared? Trunks had been out of his mind with worry and fear ever since, and Gohan had been left with two distraught boys who had lost 'Uncle' somewhere on the planet. Goten admired Vegeta so for taking the time to train him alongside Trunks and the Son boys had both missed their stubborn teacher.

His frown deepening, Gohan kicked up his speed, heading to the old witch's house to hopefully find some answers that would help him save Vegeta.

***

Vegeta heaved again, on his hands and knees as bile and blood dripped from the corners of his mouth, the runes burning hotter than any star in the universe as they punished him for challenging the curse. His clothes were soaked red and his eyes were scrunched tight as he flinched with the pain that seemed to crush his brain with the inside of his skull. But Vegeta was no stranger to pain, had made it so a part of his being that he could not live without it. His injuries had become so integral that he had created a fighting style that would not aggravate them. No, the pain would pass, and he would be able to move again.

It was being so close to others, and not being able to stay, that so broke him. Seeing Gohan, the boy he was so proud of, and not being able to stand up straight before him. Seeing Kakarot, the Saiyan he had almost killed himself to impress. Had actually died for to earn his approval. He had stooped before them, crippled with pain, and the shame was brighter than the pain behind his eyes. Shame that he was so evil and so irredeemable that the universe saw fit to mark him as untouchable.

Slowly, so slowly, he lowered himself to the ground, resting on his side and taking slow breaths. He closed his eyes and drew on good memories to immerse himself in. He thought of the very first time he'd held a tiny Trunks in his arms, a tired but happy Bulma at his side and a wet purple tail wrapping around his wrist. He had been the first thing those amazing blue eyes had seen, and something had slammed through him with enough force that he was quite breathless. He thought of the lumpy and badly-iced cake Goten and Trunks had made for him with his likeness made from sweets on the top for his last birthday. He thought of when Gohan had finally mastered the monstrous power of Super Saiyan two, and the boy's gratitude for his guidance. How proud he was of that boy, of all the boys, and how he would not be able to tell them that with all the insults, the challenges, he had only wanted to push them to their limits, not push them away.

And unbidden came the bad memories, and he tried to stem the flood but the ghosts swarmed him, and he was lost again to his curse as he slowly bled into the fresh grass around him.

***

"Gohan? What brings you here, boy?"

Gohan dipped his head, scratching the back of it and hoping his "I'm a Son and so cute you could die" thing would work.

"Hi, Baba-san! Look, sorry to intrude, I just need some help and you're the only person I could think of."

She nodded, turning around and shuffling into her abode. "Come in, then."

Bending slightly as he entered the doorway, Gohan was reminded of his namesake's modest one room home. The crystal ball sat in a corner on a worn purple cushion next to a bookshelf loaded with heavy books marked with runes not of any Earth language he knew of. There was a tiny bed and a small chest of drawers. A window with a small pot-plant on its sill lent some light and colour to the room. And for some inexplicable reason, there was the traditional smell of cats.

"Sit, boy. What can I assist you with?" she said, hopping up onto her bed.

Gohan didn't want to seem too familiar, so he knelt near her feet, clasping his hands in his lap.

"Well, Ma'am, it seems that Vegeta has a curse, and –"

"Ah, so you noticed." She nodded, steepling her fingers. "I wonder why no one else seemed to notice the severe disturbance in his energy, though I thought Goku would be the one to seek my help. Piccolo is too proud to ask me: it is impossible that he would have missed it in his meditation."

Gohan brightened. "Then you know what the solution is?"

"No, child. But as much as I don't like the arrogant hot-head, he needs to be able to function properly if he is to help protect the planet. I also fear for the stability of his mind: if he loses his grip, then we will have a serious problem on our hands that may be tougher than any before."

The Saiyan slumped, and sighed. "Damn."

"I was contemplating going to Otherworld to start gathering information: there are archives there that I can access that may provide us with an answer. Even if the Saiyans weren't fabulous academics, they were a popular subject of study by the gods and other planets."

She hopped down from the bed and went towards the crystal ball. "You must excuse me, Gohan: I need to begin my travels as soon as possible if I am to find a solution."

He hurried to his feet and bowed. "Of course! Thank you so much, Baba! I knew you'd be able to help!"

She smiled, her wrinkles deepening around her eyes. "I am glad that Vegeta is not entirely alone on this planet."

Gohan walked out of the house behind Baba, and waved.

"I've got a few more people to visit: I hope to hear from you soon."

"Go along now, boy," she said, hovering upwards and settling herself on her crystal ball, smoothing her robes out. "I will contact you as soon as I have news."

She disappeared before he could say anything, and Gohan found himself alone in the forest clearing where Baba's small stone dwelling stood. He shot upwards, spiralling as he broke through the forest roof, hovering in mid-air and letting the gentle autumn sun warm him. He closed his eyes as he threw out his senses, breathing slowly as he scanned the planet. His family was gathered together in the far east, Piccolo a few miles away to the north. He frowned as he tried to find Vegeta, but sensed nothing. Was he dead? Panic turned his heart into an icicle, then he calmed as something occurred to him.

Baba had commented that no one else had sensed his energy besides Piccolo…and Vegeta said the curse acts up around Saiyans…could it be that he has been removed from all Saiyan communication and senses?

Now that he thought about it, the boys had been trying to find Vegeta when they could get off school and homework, and he doubt that anything short of the supernatural would have thwarted them. He threw his senses towards the north west, and could faintly detect Bulma's energy, barely noticeable next to Trunks' blaze. Gohan knew he should go home and be the dutiful son, but he wanted to help Vegeta. Besides, his father hadn't quite been the same since he came back, and the fighting between his parents made life less than agreeable sometimes. He was glad that Goten knew that escape was perfectly fine and far better for his health.

Gohan flared his energy and sped towards Capsule Corp, intending to ask Bulma a few questions, and to collect Goten and take him home for dinner.

Or maybe we should just stay there.

He shook his head, then kicked up his speed with a mere flex of his will, shooting across the sky in an arc of white energy.