Chapter 2

The first occurrence that Gohan could remember in which Vejita had had a panic attack had been back on that hell-hole of a former planet that had been called Namek.

He had only spied it from around a corner in that grand spaceship, peering out as Vejita had sat on the floor, back against the wall as he had clutched at the fabric above his chest, gasping for breath even as it didn't seem to come, feet kicking out compulsively on the cold steel. Pills had lied at his side. Gohan hadn't known exactly what it had been back then, but he recognized it now, and he had seen it a few times since, and Bulma had let it slip that every year they seemed to become more numerous.

They were frightening to witness, and it brought about an incredible feeling of helplessness; you could twist Vejita's arm and yell at him, sure, but how could you force him to breathe?

All they could do was wait for it to pass.

These days had just become waiting, it seemed.

Gohan found himself wandering to the window sometimes, and looking out for his father. Why wasn't he here? He and Vejita were supposed to have some sort of connection that none of the others could understand—so why the fuck wasn't he here? Why wasn't he trying to figure out a way to help? Didn't he care that the only other Saiyan left in the universe was fading right in front of him? Where was he?

And, beyond that, how sad was it that he couldn't even keep track of his own father?

In the end, Gohan just heaved a sigh and lowered the curtain, returning to the couch and throwing himself down upon it.

Frustration.

He was worried and angry and everything else in between, and the worst part of it all was just the powerlessness. They were used to fixing everything with their fists, relying on strength to win their battles—this time, fighting would solve nothing.

It struck Gohan then how little they knew of life.

Outside of their safety zone of battle, things were so much harder. Hitting Vejita wouldn't fix him. Reaching the next level of a Super Saiyan wouldn't be of any help against his depression. No new technique would calm Vejita's mind.

Maybe that was why Goku was staying away; maybe he knew that he would be of no use in this situation, not fit to offer assistance in matters he knew nothing about.

...ah, damn, it was so much easier just to blame him, even if Gohan couldn't really think of a good reason why.

It made him feel a little better about himself to shoulder the entire blame on his father. Why should they have had to realize that something was wrong with Vejita? Goku should have seen it first.

The last of their kind.

Gohan stayed at Capsule Corporation most of the time now, although for Bulma's sake or his own he didn't know. He had worked so hard to save up and buy his own place, and now he wasn't even living there.

Sad.

Bulma was grateful for him, and Trunks enjoyed his presence, so that was alright. Vejita may or may not have been aware that Gohan had all but moved in. Who could say, now?

Gohan tried to talk to him, every so often, but he would admit that maybe his own efforts were half-hearted at best. Vejita never engaged in conversations that he offered, not really, so maybe he had stopped trying.

They used to talk more before, right after the battle. Vejita was smart, and Gohan was smart, too. They had understood each other, in that sense. But beyond that, it was like wandering around in the dark and just trying to feel his way around. He couldn't grasp Vejita, no matter how much he wanted to. Couldn't figure him out.

Bulma, trying her best, started to invite everyone over far more often.

Her reasoning was apparently that Vejita was the happiest when they were all together right before a battle, so why not try to recreate that sense of camaraderie by gathering them together?

It didn't work as well as she wanted.

Everyone came over, but they were as awkward around Vejita as he was around them.

Vejita lingered around corners and in shadows, and it seemed to Gohan that even though he never spoke, he was waiting for someone to pay him some kind of attention. Most of the time, unless Gohan took it upon himself, no one ever did. Trunks and Goten were still kids and busy with each other, Chichi chatted with Bulma in hushed tones, Goku hung around with Krillin and Yamcha, and Piccolo was as much of a loner as Vejita was.

In the end, everyone went home, and Vejita was no better for it.

When had they become so useless?

Shadows.


The last gathering they had just wound up turning into an enormous disaster.

Even if the others hadn't been exactly great.

A hot summer night, muggy and cloudy. Fireflies invaded the fields and trees, and Gohan greeted each of them as they entered the house, and with every 'hello' he gave there was a look in his direction that clearly asked, 'Is it going to work this time?'

Gohan just kept that same smile plastered on his face, and tried his best to be hopeful, if more for others than himself.

Hell.

He didn't think their being here was really doing any good, but if it made them feel a little better and more involved then maybe that was enough. Someone brought fireworks, to keep the charade of a real party up. Still felt more like a wake, though.

He wondered, sometimes, if Vejita knew what they were up to, and if it bothered him much. Maybe some part of him was glad that they cared, although clearly their efforts hadn't been enough to illicit much of a reaction.

It had started off pretty well.

Goten and Trunks had a blast whenever everyone got together, especially since they were oblivious to the reason behind it, and had been tearing up the house as they chased each other through the halls. Bulma had nearly screeched herself hoarse when Trunks had accidentally broken a shelf full of photos, but her anger had quickly vanished when Vejita had actually come out of his trance to grab a fleeing Trunks by the collar and force him to clean up the mess he had made.

She and Gohan had shared a look, and for the first time in a while, Gohan's smile was real.

Didn't last long.

As soon as Trunks and Goten had swept up the last of the glass and put the frameless pictures in a neat stack on the table, they ran off to play more, and Vejita faded back into his mind with a sigh.

Still, he had been there for a little while, so they tried to keep their hopes up.

Krillin was almost more excited than they were that Vejita had woken up for a bit, but then, Gohan supposed, Krillin had been one of the first to really take to Vejita back then, and might have been the first of all of them to really count him as one of the gang. Krillin had been one of the first ones to approach Vejita back then.

It had surely been nothing short of that excitement that had led him to shoot off the fireworks as soon as the sun had gone down.

It was supposed to be festive; pretty.

Vejita had nodded off in the chair off in the corner not long before, and everyone had been perfectly content to leave him alone when the first fireworks were set off outside. Vejita looked so tired lately; let him rest, if he wanted to.

They had intended only to set off a few, and save the others for when they could lure Vejita outside to enjoy the show.

Krillin tried to angle them so they would explode right above the great skylight. No one had really wanted to be outside, humid as it was.

Light.

And they were every bit as colorful as Gohan could have hoped for, but they had an unexpected consequence.

When the first few great bursts came, louder above the house than they had expected, the exhilaration quickly turned into horror as Vejita, waking with a great gasp, leapt up out of the chair in a fright and fell onto the floor, kicking himself back up against the wall.

How quickly things shifted.

Someone, Gohan couldn't remember later who, had said, "Calm down, it's only fireworks!" but it had come too late.

The panic attack had already started.

He had obviously slipped into some nightmare once he had nodded off, and the explosion of the fireworks so close had come at a bad time. Where did he think was? What went on in those nightmares?

Stupid. What had they been thinking? Shoulda woken him up first...

Gohan and Bulma were the ones who reacted first, and crouched down in front of him as he sat there, fists clenched at his sides and eyes staring off blankly ahead of him. He wasn't breathing. What could they do? Nothing, really, but all the same Gohan reached out and took Vejita's collar into his hands as Bulma crooned away in his ear, not knowing what else to do.

He could feel Goku hovering over, having skidded before them from his corner, and Gohan wished, for once, that his father would keep up his habit of leaving. Hadn't been here before. Why start now? Goku shuffled his feet, leaning back and forth, and it was clear to Gohan that he was trying to shove himself in and get his hands on Vejita. Gohan shifted his position, and denied him the chance.

Gohan reached up, tapping Vejita's cheek with his palm, gently, trying to rouse him as Bulma whispered away.

"Come on, look here. It's alright. Wake up."

It took a while, and a lot of prodding, but finally Vejita's dark eyes lifted up, and, for the first time, he looked at Gohan and really saw him.

He was back.

The relief was great, and Gohan broke into a smile.

"There you are! Thought we'd lost you."

Staring.

He glanced down, and saw Vejita's still chest.

"Hey, come on, you're not breathing. You gotta breathe, alright? Come on. Look at me."

Slowly, it came back to him, and with a great inhale Vejita's chest finally loosened up.

Bulma ran her hands up and down his arm, sighing in relief.

As soon as he was back to himself, Vejita was already shoving them away, albeit gently. They gave him space, trying to spare his pride as best they could. For Vejita, it had to have been the worst feeling imaginable, to be vulnerable in front of others. Vejita's entire life had been a front of strength, but there was no fooling anyone in the middle of a panic attack, and no matter how strong Vejita's mind was, his body had other ideas and cooperating was not one of them.

Gohan sat back, and kept a careful eye on him as he tried to catch his breath.

Krillin came in then from outside, the smile wide on his face, and said, loudly, "Did you see 'em? They came out a lot better than I...thought."

He trailed off, smile dropping like a fly when he saw the scene, and Vejita up against the wall.

Silence.

Finally, Vejita staggered up to his feet, backing into the dark hallway, eyes firmly on the ground in apparent embarrassment, and then he muttered something incomprehensible under his breath. Might have been some mangled apology. For what?

Before they could say anything, he turned tail and disappeared into the hall, Trunks hot on his heels.

Behind them, Yamcha muttered, "Well. So much for tonight. Some help we are."

The mood was damp.

Gohan stared into the empty hallway, feeling rather defeated as effort after effort continued to flop. A hand fell on his shoulder, suddenly, and when he looked over, it was Bulma who was staring at him. "Why don't you go after him? I think he's taken to you, you know. Maybe he'll talk to you. Can't hurt to try."

Taken to him, huh? Bulma would know.

It was a burst of pride and ego that made him do as she said, and he followed Trunks' voice to the bathroom. He pushed open the door with a finger, and what he saw there deflated any self-satisfaction he had been feeling. Vejita sat on the floor, knees to his chest and head bowed down, and Trunks sat beside of him, watching with panicked bewilderment as his father clenched fingers in his hair and didn't respond to any voice or motion.

"Gohan," Trunks finally beseeched from below, "What's wrong with my dad?"

And Gohan, helpless as he felt, could only shake his head.

Desperation was growing.

For the first time, Gohan considered going to the lookout to see Dende, who might have had a few tricks up his sleeve that could help.

What did he have to lose?

Vejita just kept getting worse.


Months passed.

They tried to forget the incident as best they could, for Vejita's sake.

If they looked at him with any unusual expression, any at all, he would flee their presence and refuse to show his face again until they were gone.

Still, Bulma said that there hadn't been a reoccurrence since then, so Gohan (yet again) put aside his concerns and didn't act upon the idea to speak to Dende. Like he had every time before, he just said to himself, 'Well, maybe it will get better.'

It never did.

How many times did he have to get burned before he finally put out the fire?

Summer faded into fall.

Goten turned eleven, as Trunks had the year before. Gohan stopped to look at him sometimes, and realized he was getting taller every day. They both were; Trunks was almost as tall as his father now, and would be taller in a few more years.

They made as big a deal of this birthday as they had every other, and Bulma never pulled any stops when it came to celebration.

Goten's birthday party was the first time for a while that they had been able to relax.

It was only at the birthday of Trunks or Goten that Vejita really seemed to wake up from his dream-world, if only in some subconscious attempt to offer them his attention. He had never said it, and likely never would, but everyone knew that Vejita loved them as much as an aloof man like Vejita could love a child. Goten and Trunks, although one was his child and one was not, were really the only things he seemed to even be hanging around for.

That thought frightened Gohan sometimes, though.

If Vejita were only sifting through life for them, what happened when they were older? When they grew up and moved away and didn't need him? What happened when Trunks didn't need a father anymore?

He didn't like to dwell on it, because the outcomes he came up with usually weren't ones he liked to imagine.

Instead, he turned his mind to his little brother, and just tried to pretend that everything would be alright.

Goten, always pleased at being the center of attention, was ecstatic at the party and the gifts he received, although there was one glaring problem with what should have been a perfect day.

One guest was notably absent. The most important.

Goku.

Like always, the event seemed to have simply slipped his mind, or he had gotten distracted by something else. Or, possibly, he was just avoiding Vejita yet again.

They tried to play it off at first, and when Goten asked where his father was, Chichi had tried to smile at him and said, "Don't worry, I'm sure he'll be here soon."

Out of the corner of his eye, Gohan could see Vejita give a scoff.

Soon. Sure.

Hours ticked by. The sun faded behind the trees. Night fell.

And still, Goku hadn't shown up.

Gohan watched his little brother laughing away with Trunks as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, but as soon as conversation broke, he turned his eyes to the door in anticipation.

It never opened.

In the corner, standing in the shadow of a bookcase, Vejita seemed more agitated than Goten. Maybe, like Gohan, Vejita had been waiting for an excuse to lunge at Goku's throat. If so, he had found a damn good one, and Gohan would not begrudge him for it.

He knew well how it felt to sit and wait for his father to show himself. The end result was usually disappointment. He had lost that idol-worship that Goten still had, and in its place there was a growing frustration. Goku was a hero, no doubt, and in fact he was practically a saint. That didn't make him a good father, or a good husband.

Goku could save the world a million times, and that didn't mean a damn thing to a little kid whose father couldn't remember his son's birthday.

When the clock struck eleven and everyone was tired and ready to go home, the door finally opened.

Goku poked his dark head in carefully, as if he already knew that he was in trouble, and then he pushed the door open all the way and stepped inside.

A silence, and then an awkward, "Hey."

They looked at each other, each as reluctant to speak as the next, and then Bulma replied, quietly, "Hi."

Goten started to walk over to his father, and then fell still, as if he couldn't really remember what he had wanted to say. In the end, they just stared at each other, and then Goku finally said, lowly, "I'm sorry I'm late."

Gohan bristled, but kept his mouth shut.

No one bothered to ask Goku where he had been, because the answer would never be sufficient.

Goten looked up at his father, and said, with a hint of sadness, "You missed the cake."

Another tense moment of silence, and then Goku finally said, "I'm sorry, Goten. I was out... I... I lost track of time."

Nobody moved for a second, and Goten just pursed his lips and turned his eyes down at the ground. Gohan crossed his arms, and was hardly interested in any apology, although getting one was a rarity. How many of his birthdays had been missed without even a realization or care? For that, perhaps, Goten should count himself lucky.

Still, Goten's face was rather disheartening to look at. Always so happy, so it hurt to see him like that.

"It's alright," Goten finally said, with a little sigh. "You were busy, I guess. But you're here now!"

Yeah, right. Busy. Sure.

They all thought it, Gohan knew they did. How long before one of them finally said it?

The answer was, apparently, right now.

Vejita pushed himself out of his corner and came forward, speaking up for the first time in years as he lost his temper, as he so often used to. He reached out to grab Goten's shoulder and pushed him backwards towards Trunks, taking his place in front of Goku instead.

Everyone stood still, breathless, and not because they were scared of an argument; they were just amazed that Vejita had actually come out of his trance long enough to manage that old glare. Potent as ever, come to think. When Vejita finally spoke, though, his voice was hard to recognize. Deep and rough as ever, and yet softer somehow, in some way, as if Vejita was really too tired to raise his voice. Just a low, angry whisper.

"You never seem to forget the dates of any tournaments. You're never late to any fights. You never fail to show your face whenever there's trouble. Is it really selective memory or do you just make up excuses because you don't care about other things?"

Goku's shoulders tensed up, and his brow fell as the first bristling came.

Goku had been agitated too, these past years.

"You know that's not true."

Gohan, rather than leaping in, kept back against the wall, and watched. After all, Vejita had a knack for telling the painful truth. Who would ever want to get the middle of such an awkward argument, the way things were now? Vejita was finally speaking; it was just a shame that it took such a thing to bring him out of the dark.

"I know no such thing," Vejita snipped back, and it was clear that just because he was fading didn't mean his attitude was. "Even when you were dead you didn't have an excuse. You could have come back. You didn't even know what Goten looked like until he was what, seven?"

Chichi opened her mouth as if to speak up in Goku's defense, but thought better of it and stayed quiet. Maybe, underneath it all, under the love she had for Goku, she was bitter, too.

Goku's fists were clenching at his sides.

"I did that for them, for all of you—"

"You did it for yourself! You did it because a family is too much work! You did it because being dead was a hell of a lot more fun for you than being alive. That's why you did it."

A short, painful silence.

Gohan shifted his weight, awkwardly, and averted his eyes to the ground.

This was almost too embarrassing to watch.

"Wha—what about you, huh?" Goku's casual voice had gained that edge that came only when he was ready for a brawl. "What about you? All you've ever gone on about is how strong you are. Or, rather, how strong you think you are! That's all that's ever come outta your mouth! Why am I so damn different, huh?"

Vejita stood there, looking so slight and so small before tall Goku, and his shoulders slumped a bit. He looked tired. Wan.

"Yeah, I talked about it all the time. And you know, for a while there I almost did what you did. But when I saw you die and when you decided not to come back, all I could think of was... You left everyone. You could have come back, but you didn't want to. I never understood that. Don't you care that they missed you? I talked about it all the time, but talking and doing are two different things, you idiot. I stopped. I stayed home. I can get stronger here. I don't have to abandon anyone to train."

Goku's hair swayed, as the anger rose up.

Gohan was glad, more than anything, that someone finally said it. He had been thinking it for years.

But Vejita hadn't finished yet.

"I'm the one who showed up for Gohan's graduation instead of you. I help my son with his homework. I remember their birthdays. I make sure that Goten has rules when he's here."

"That's enough, Vejita."

Goku's voice was barely audible. A sign of danger. Vejita either didn't notice, or just didn't care. Most likely the latter. It wasn't that Goku had missed a birthday party. Of course not. It was years and years of frustration, piling up on itself until one little pebble started a landslide, and Vejita was letting it all go straight downhill. He couldn't seem to stop now, even if he had wanted to.

Whatever it was that was eating at him was quite obviously connected to Goku, and he was lashing out after years of silence. It wasn't about Goku's terrible parenting abilities; Gohan suspected that on some level that just wasn't enough to truly rile Vejita like this. This was something else, something so much deeper, and Gohan wasn't really sure why that unnerved him.

As if Goku somehow meant something to Vejita in such a deep way that anger was his only outlet.

By now, Vejita had started rambling, and couldn't really seem to stop, even though the conversation had become far too volatile and far too uncomfortable.

"I was the one that had to explain to Goten what a Saiyan is. Trunks is afraid of dogs, Kakarotto. Do you even know what Goten's afraid of? Do you know how many times I—"

Goku finally snapped, and lashed out with a flash of gold, faster than they could nearly see, striking Vejita across the face with the back of his hand. The slap sounded far worse than it really was, in such tension, but it was still forceful enough to spin Vejita around, to where he had to grip the edge of the end-table to keep himself from staggering.

For a moment, Goku just stood there, looking stunned more than anything else. The gold faded as quickly as it had come. Goku hadn't meant to strike Vejita, that much was obvious, and the regret was clearly etched on his face.

They hadn't ever fought like this.

Not like this.

Everything went silent.

Goku reached out then, looking mortified and abashed and maybe a little frightened, but when he touched Vejita's shoulder, it was as if he had set off the tripping wires to a damn bomb, because Vejita exploded.

Whirling around, hair on fire and teeth bared, he lunged at Goku so fiercely that it was damn-near terrifying. They hadn't seen a look like that on Vejita's face since he had been tearing up Namek mercilessly.

Murder.

It was frightening. Like he wasn't really there—and there was that danger again, that unpredictability that Gohan had been worried about before. Vejita was too dangerous not to be stable. Vejita may not have been the strongest anymore, but he was without a doubt the most dangerous, always had been. He could have killed one of them without even being aware of it, as quickly as his mood shifted.

Turning on a dime.

How stupid; Vejita had never been stable.

And for a moment, even Goku seemed stunned at Vejita's sudden assault, but had sense enough to let his reflexes take control, falling back to give himself room to snatch Vejita's wrists.

It wasn't a real fight, by any means. Over almost before it began.

For once, Gohan was glad that his father was stronger than he was, because he hadn't kept up with own training enough to be efficient at Vejita's level. Wasn't sure that he could have truly controlled Vejita in that moment, with that intent to truly harm written there on his face. Not with a Vejita that was aiming to destroy, as he once had. That look...

Had seen it in his nightmares, a long time ago.

Although, in this strange instance of aggression, Vejita's movements were rather sloppy; Goku subdued him quickly and easily. It was apparent that Vejita was off his game, either in his heart or his head. Somewhere else. Good for them. If Vejita had had a mind to, the entire building would have been demolished in a breath.

Instead, Goku pinned him still, as his energy fluctuated in a strange manner, and then the gold seeped out of Vejita's hair and his shoulders were so tense that it wouldn't have been a surprise if his chest had locked up.

A frightening thing happened then, more frightening than even that look on Vejita's face.

A complete and utter collapse.

Vejita stood still before Goku, barely breathing, and his look was alarming as he whispered, lowly, "Get off of me."

It was his voice that had them worried, not the words. Desperation. A plea? Close to a whine. Never, not ever, had they heard that tone coming from Vejita, not the man that had stood up to the most evil of tyrants with defiance, not the man that had laughed in the face of death.

Not Vejita.

One second he lunged to kill, and now he stood there, frighteningly passive under Goku's great hands.

Goku's grip stayed firm, a good thing until Vejita came back, but he leaned down, eyes dark as though something was hurting him. As if seeing Vejita at all just caused him pain.

Gohan was glad that his father was getting a glimpse now that he couldn't just run away. Goku had spent so long avoiding Vejita, but this time he had no choice but to see what had been obvious to everyone else. Something that Gohan had declared his fault.

"It's alright," his father whispered, in a weak, awkward attempt to help, but Vejita didn't really seem to hear him. "I'm sorry."

Vejita could have easily broken that grasp and probably could have beaten Goku to a pulp, yet he didn't seem to be aware of that fact. As if, somehow, Vejita was terrified of Goku in that moment. Vejita had never once feared Goku, not ever.

Looked like he did now.

Another strange whisper.

"I'll get stronger, I will. Just—get off of me."

Oh, god, if Gohan could have gone back in time he would have grabbed that stupid little wizard and ripped his head off before he could unleash the demons in Vejita's head. Vejita had been alright before that.

Hadn't he?

Goku shifted both of Vejita's wrists into one great hand, and reached up with the other to put fingers in the hair at the base of Vejita's neck.

Wrong thing to do.

Vejita kicked out at the touch, eyes widening and struggling to free himself from Goku's grip as his breathing became so quick it was on the verge of hyperventilating. The first step towards a panic attack.

"Let go of him!" Gohan snarled, as he stalked forward to try and wrangle a thrashing Vejita, and Goku obeyed, releasing Vejita's wrists with a look of guilt.

Anger. Everything had been fine until he had shown up. Everything had been alright.

As soon as he was free, Vejita pushed himself back into the corner, sliding to the floor, chest heaving as he struggled to keep from slipping into that helplessness of not being able to breathe. Gohan knelt down before him, as he had the last time, but he didn't dare reach out to touch him. Not now. It might have set him off again.

Every time just seemed to get worse.

Goku settled on a bended knee next to Gohan and said, weakly, "I'm—I'm sorry. I didn't think, I didn't... I didn't mean to. I didn't know it had gotten this bad."

The look that Gohan sent him could have killed a dog, and he muttered back, aggressively, "Nah, you wouldn't, would you? Didn't think to ever ask."

Goku fell back, and bowed his head.

Gohan knew that his father hadn't done anything intentionally, and he knew too that his father cared for Vejita as much as he did, but that didn't ebb his anger any. Didn't know, to be honest, why he was so angry with his father. Couldn't actually put his finger on it. Yeah, he knew it couldn't all be put on Goku, not really, he knew it, but damn did it ever feel good to have something, someone, to blame.

...idiot.

Gohan suddenly felt tired, too. This anger was exhausting. Hated the feeling, but couldn't get rid if it.

It took a long time for Vejita to finally come back to the real world, and when he did he pushed them away, horror on his face, and stalked outside.

By then, everyone had already come to the conclusion that something had to be done. One way or another. The time for hoping and waiting had long since passed.

Enough excuses.