Author's Notes
Hi guys! It's been a little over 6 months since I updated this story, or indeed did any writing at all, but I've finally gotten round to Chapter Three - sorry it's taken such a ridiculously long time! Quick recap: Gohan can't (or rather won't) become a Super Saiyan 2 because he blames himself (or the "Monster" he became) for Goku's death, and as such died at the hands of Bojack. His friends are attempting to wish him back and meanwhile, the young Saiyan is desperately searching for his Dad in the Other World! Throw in a bad-tempered and slightly exasperated bad guy and we have the story so far! Let's continue!
Chapter Three: "Ready when you are!"
Zangya sped through Earth's thick white clouds, her thoughts muddled as she attempted to make sense of the things she had overheard. Bojack had made very clear to her that he wanted information regarding the Dragon Balls, but Zangya had found herself in somewhat of a hole - she had very little clue what a Dragon Ball was.
The great wealth of information she had gathered from eavesdropping on those fighters hadn't helped either; all that talk of Porunga, Namek, and wishes had only left her more confused. No doubt the boss would expect a clear and precise debrief as well!
As she tried to make sense of it all, the alluring warrior couldn't help her mind wandering.
Just what does the boss want with these Dragon Balls? Is he going to tell us?
Zangya's final thought, and the one that most intrigued her, was whether or not Bojack had recovered from his earlier lapse in character. Something had shaken up the usually steadfast and unflappable pirate, and she was sure that whatever it was, it was linked with that boy he'd been fighting.
In all the years she'd spent under his command, she'd never witnessed such a reaction in him. To be honest, she was worried. Zangya shook her head and pressed on towards her destination. If she didn't have the information that Bojack wanted, he'd give her something else to really worry about, of that she was certain.
Far below, Bujin collapsed on to a seat, his brow furrowed and his feet blistered. He and Bido had spent the entire night collecting the supplies that Bojack had sent them for, and he was more than a little peeved. His larger, and rather simple colleague had thoroughly enjoyed ransacking shops and houses throughout West City, but Bujin couldn't help but be frustrated; restocking was a pointless errand and he knew it.
In all honesty he was furious. Zangya had been sent to perform worthwhile duties whist he'd been stuck fetching groceries. What's more, Bido had refused to return to the camp until they'd looted nearly every store in the city, turning what should have been less than an hour's work into a dusk-to-dawn shopping spree of destruction.
Adding further insult to injury, the whole idea of using the Dragon Balls had been his in the first place - an idea Bojack had laughed off as ridiculous when he'd mentioned them - and the boss hadn't even trusted him to gather the information. Zangya didn't even know what they were and she'd been sent off for reconnaissance! He was starting to wish he'd never shared his knowledge of them.
Why all of a sudden had the boss changed his mind? Why had the Dragon Balls become his priority rather than pillaging the Galaxy? Was it something to do with that Golden-haired kid?
His train of thought quickly wandered, and he became so wrapped up thinking of the things that he could've wished for if he'd kept them for himself that he didn't sense the fast-approaching power level.
Zangya landed daintily in the middle of the encampment. Settled on the rooftop of a building in the derelict town where they'd battled with the Z Fighters, their base of operations had a distinctly shoddy, thrown-together feel to it. Broken furniture and rubble was strewn around haphazardly, the supplies that had been gathered were piled up in a similar manner. A miserable fire, its embers threatening to burn out, was the only source of comfort.
Her arrival drew the crew's leader from the solace of the shadows, the flame-haired Hera-jin making his way over to the dwindling fire.
"What news of the Dragon Balls? Did the fighters know of them?" Bojack was straight to the point.
"Yes." replied Zangya, not daring to waste any time. "I found it hard to make sense of, but it seems that these Dragon Ball things can be used to make wishes; the Earth fighters intended to use them to bring the child back to life." The henchwoman flinched as Bojack's expression fell into a frown. "However, there may be some complications." She hesitated slightly, attempting to gauge the others' reactions.
"Well?" demanded Bojack, his tone dripping with frustration.
"The Earth fighters seemed certain that using the Dragon Balls would be impossible for nearly another year." Zangya stumbled across her words in her hurry to get them out. "Something about how only a certain number of wishes can be made each year and that they were used fairly recently"
"Very well then..."
Zangya hadn't expected such a calm reaction; she didn't know what to expect really.
"Boss wait!" she announced slightly over-zealously - this earned her a raised eyebrow. "There's more..."
Bojack's face fell in obvious displeasure.
"Get to the point Zangya, and quickly," he ordered pointedly, collecting himself and wiping a large hand across his brow.
"Of course." She thought it wise to oblige, and cut straight to the crux of the matter. "They spoke of other Dragon Balls, on a planet called "New Namek" or something like that. They seemed to think that someone called "Porunga" could help them bring the boy back."
"What!?" Bojack practically exploded, the energy flaring around him scattering bricks and upturning the weathered armchair that Bujin occupied. Zangya shielded her face from the dust and dirt that was whipping around.
However, the teal-skinned pirate's rage died down almost as quickly as it had erupted, and with it the energy storm subsided. Bujin clambered to his feet, an irked look spread across his face, and dusted himself down.
Zangya stood uncomfortably and waited to be questioned, but the questions never came. Bojack turned his back on the group and stood in absolute quiet. Zangya looked to Bujin with questioning eyes; was he having another turn?
Eyes closed, the leader of the crew stood like a statue. The feeling of the boy's power, that terrible power, engulfed him again.
"So boss, what's the plan?" chimed Bido, breaking a minute's worth of silence. "Are we going to this Namek place?"
Turning to face his subordinates, Bojack announced his scheme with an sadistic grimace. "Yes. We'll follow the Earthlings to Namek, find this Porunga, and have him grant my wishes!"
"What exactly are we wishing for?" enquired Bido hopefully.
"You'll find out soon enough," snarled Bojack in reply. "Now start shifting those supplies on to the ship; we need to be ready for when those Earth fighters leave!"
Very little surprised Gohan these days. After all the crazy adventures of the past few years, it was understandable. Yet, when he turned in the direction of the voice that had called out to him, he had to admit that a monkey was pretty far down on the list of things he'd expected to see.
He slowly shifted his gaze momentarily to King Yemma, a questioning look in his eyes. He'd been awake since he first arrived in the Other World, and all the travelling and waiting in line had left him utterly exhausted; he wondered whether his weary mind was beginning to play tricks on him.
"Pardon?" questioned the young Saiyan with all the politeness he could muster. He met the monkey's blank stare, waiting tentatively for the furry creature to reply.
"Goku." The monkey spoke without moving its lips, but the voice was definitely coming from over where he sat. "Did you just say you were looking for Goku?"
"Yes. Yes!" replied Gohan, the famous Son grin erupting across his face as he breathed a deep sigh of relief. "Do you know where he is, Mr Monkey?" he questioned.
"Monkey!?" The voice took on an irritated tone. "Excuse me! I am not a monkey, and if you came over here kid, you'd see that for yourself!"
"Oh, I'm sorry." apologised Gohan sheepishly, as he made his way across room. "It's just you look a lot like a monkey."
"No I don't!" insisted the voice.
The monkey sat on the floor in the corner of the room by an arched entry to a corridor, which Gohan presumed led to more rooms or to an outside space. As he approached, the voice came again, this time more clearly. "You see?" it enquired, sounding more and more annoyed by the second.
"Oh, of course," exclaimed Gohan, rubbing the back of his head the way his Father so often did. "Sorry."
Perched on the monkey's shoulder was a green and black bug. Gohan thought that it might have been a cricket, or a grasshopper, but it was much bigger than an average bug. It flitted up in to the air and hovered proudly in front of his face.
"The name's Gregory, kid..." it announced. "...and this here is Bubbles - we're both assistants to King Kai!" Gohan twisted this way and that as Bubbles sniffed around his feet and knees, before clambering up his back and sifting through his hair quietly.
"My name is Son Gohan." The half Saiyan's response still managed to be courteous, in spite of the monkey planted on his back. "Do you know where my Father, Goku, is?"
"Bubbles, get down," pleaded Gregory, buzzing around agitatedly, only returning his attention to Gohan when the monkey reluctantly obliged. "So you're Goku's son!? Well we're pleased to meet you Son Gohan, Bubbles especially it seems! Goku is currently with King Kai. They travelled to the Planet of the Grand Kai in the hope of getting a private training lesson with the Grand Kai himself! They left just yesterday."
The news made Gohan realise the extent of his exhaustion; he didn't think he could deal with another trip, but he strengthened his resolve, ready to press on.
"Thankyou, Gregory. Bubbles!" he added shaking the hand that the monkey was offering him. "Do you know how I can get to the Grand Kai's planet?"
"You can't," interjected the booming voice of King Yemma. "Well, at least not right away. The next plane doesn't leave for another twelve hours. You'll have to wait."
Funnily enough, Gohan didn't mind. He just wanted a bed.
"Don't you dare drop that, Krillin!"
"I won't, I won't! Sheesh, Bulma." The bald warrior gently placed the crate down in the loading bay of the shuttle - he knew better than to rile her in her current state. The blue-haired woman could be a little testy even on her good days, and this was certainly not one of them.
They'd been back and forth fetching supplies and necessities, and packing them in to the shuttle since before noon; the sun had started to set and the long hours of work were finally taking their toll.
"I'm sorry, Krillin." Her apology was preceded by sigh of exhaustion and a meek, contrite smile. "It's just it's getting late and there's still so much left to do! We have to leave for New Namek tomorrow and it'll take us five days just to get there in this ship - by then, we may be too late!" Sitting down on the ramp, she pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of her dungarees and mopped her brow with it. "Who knows what Bojack could have already done by the time we get there!?"
The warrior monk walked over and sat beside her, the top of his bald head barely reaching her shoulder.
"Don't worry, Bulma. We'll get to New Namek and wish Gohan back, and everything will be just fine - like it always is! I know it!" He flashed her a confident, comforting grin before returning to packing the crates away. "How much stuff have we got here anyway? Couldn't we just have capsulated it?" he added.
"It is capsulated," Bulma stressed, standing up and fixing her fingerless gloves. "but you have to prepare for every eventuality! You never know what a girl could need out there in space!"
Krillin rolled his eyes and chuckled quietly to himself. She never changed!
Inside Dende's temple, Piccolo was deep in discussion with Trunks.
"It'll be you and I, along with Krillin, and both your parents - Bulma has to fly the shuttle," stated the Namekian.
"Then who's left here to protect the others from Bojack and his goons?" retorted Trunks, his eye wide with worry. Working out a detailed plan of action had kept his brain whirring all day and he was in desperate need of some sleep. Numerous hours had already been spent with Dende deciding on exactly what they were going to wish for, as well as helping his Mother create a list of supplies; there was still lots to do before the sun rose in the next morning.
"The boy is right," stated Vegeta. Unsurprisingly, he had contributed little to the arrangements, opting rather to meditate all afternoon under the shade of a palm tree out on the Lookout's plaza. "The capable warriors should be left here to fight - I'm wasted running errands!"
Piccolo rested his head in one hand as he considered it all. Obviously it made sense to have protection where the risk of danger was greatest, and Earth was certainly where that risk lay, however he couldn't quite shake a gut feeling that maybe the Saiyans would be needed on Namek.
Remembering his promise to Gohan, and knowing that the sentiment behind it extended to all of his friends and family, he decided that Trunks was right. Besides, he was doubtful that Vegeta's presence would be well received by the Namekians.
"You're right, Trunks. Someone has to stay here and hold off Bojack. I promised Chi-Chi that I'd bring Gohan back to her, so I'm going in the shuttle with Bulma, but I know I can trust you both to take care of everyone 'til we're back."
"You bet, Piccolo," assured the steadfast younger Saiyan. The Namekian placed his hand firmly on his friend's shoulder and nodded in acknowledgement, before turning and walking away.
"Vegeta!" he added, before leaving the room. "You're staying here to defend the others - not to settle any personal vendetta against Bojack."
The Prince glowered as the fighter's white turban and cloak disappeared around the corner.
Piccolo emerged from the temple threshold on to the lookout, the dying sunlight casting long shadows. He stopped momentarily, and furrowed his brow, scanning for any changes in power levels as he had been doing all day. Bojack and his henchmen were once again untraceable; the tall Namek found this increasingly disconcerting.
Using newer technology from the Planet Trade Organisation attack pod that Goku had used to return from Yardrat a few years earlier, Bulma predicted that they'd be able to get to New Namek in just five days. She'd protested that it hadn't been perfected yet and that the shuttle wasn't entirely finished, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
He had no idea when the fearsome Hera-jin pirate would begin his attack on the people of Earth, but he did know that the sooner they got Gohan back home, the better.
He opened his eyes and studied the large space craft they'd be using, Bulma and Krillin loading what looked like the last of numerous crates in to its hull.
In many respects it looked the same as the previous ships that Dr. Brief had constructed; a large white and black sphere with 'CAPSULE CORP.' emblazoned on it, however Bulma assured him that it was the fastest way they had of reaching New Namek. Not for the first time, he cursed Goku's decision to remain in the Other World - his instant transmission would have saved them vital time.
"Will we be set to leave at dawn, Bulma?" questioned the Namek as he approached her.
"All set here, Piccolo!" she announced, obviously pleased with her efforts. "Ready whenever you are!"
"And we have everything we need?" he asked, observing the stacked crates with a raised eyebrow.
"Oh yeah," stated Krillin bluntly, "and more!" This earned him a scowl from his blue-haired friend.
"Do we have the Dragon Radar?" intervened Piccolo. Bulma's head whipped around again as she shot the warrior monk a questioning stare.
Krillin smiled and laughed nervously. "Heh, well er... We know where it is..." he ventured tentatively.
Had she not been so exhausted, Krillin was sure that Bulma would have exploded, but instead she merely let out a long, exasperated sigh.
"I'll go and fetch it," he said dejectedly as he walked down the loading bay ramp, shoulders slumped. He grumbled something about how these things always happened to him, before taking of in to the darkening sky.
"Go with him would you, Piccolo? I left Baby Trunks with my Mom and Dad and I called ahead a few hours ago to say someone would check in on them," asked Bulma as she shut the loading bay door.
Piccolo nodded silently and flew off after Krillin.
Gohan clicked his seatbelt in to place as soon as the light above his head flashed on. He hadn't a clue how long he'd been on the plane, but had spent the journey flitting between reading and staring at the clouds out of the window; he was sure he'd even seen the occasional planet float by.
He'd been awoken at the palace earlier by one of King Yemma's ogre helpers. The nap had left him refreshed; he'd even been provided with fresh, new garments - a familiar orange gi and long-sleeved dark blue under-shirt with matching boots.
Once in the lobby, he'd implored Gregory and Bubbles to come with him, but his request had been turned down.
"We'd love to, kid, but we have important errands to run for King Kai," had been the cricket's reply. " - your Father blew up his planet ya'know!" Bubbles had climbed on the Saiyan's back once again and gifted him a banana.
"Thankyou for all your help, Gregory! You too, Bubbles," added Gohan - he'd embraced the monkey before letting him clamber down. "I'm sure I'll see you again soon!"
As he felt the plane begin its descent, he closed the book on his lap. King Yemma had given it to him for the journey. To be honest it wasn't exactly great reading - an old arithmetic textbook was all King Yemma had in Gohan's size from his personal library, but the young warrior appreciated the sentiment.
Thanks to Chi-Chi, he'd found the algebra and calculus inside far from difficult, but Gohan had still leafed through the majority of the textbook. More than anything it reminded him of his Mother - all the times she'd nagged him to study when he was younger and times when he'd sneak off with flying Nimbus or Icarus the dragon to see his friends instead.
He sighed heavily. He thought about his Mom and his friends, and how much danger he'd left them in. All the guilty feelings he'd been too focussed to take notice of overcame him again, and he took to staring wistfully out of the small, round window.
This was all because of him. Everyone was in danger because he was scared.
But how could he let that Super Saiyan Monster inside him free again? The beast that had cost his Father his life, that had plunged his Mother into depression and left her to raise another child on her own. It was all his fault. It fell on his head.
He just couldn't risk anything more happening, he couldn't take any more guilt.
He wiped away a tear that was threatening to form in as inconspicuous a manner as he could muster and readjusted his focus again. He would find his Father.
Dad'll save everyone; he always does.
"So you're sure Gohan can take these guys?" Krillin asked. He'd been making conversation, mostly one-sided, the best he could on the way to West City. So far he'd tried to keep it light-hearted.
Probably why he won't talk! Piccolo doesn't exactly do light-hearted!
Even still, after everything the Z fighters had been through, Piccolo scared Krillin more than a little bit; the same went for Vegeta. He was never quite one hundred percent sure that the pair were actually on their side - much more with the Saiyan Prince than the Namekian in fairness.
However, when it came to Gohan, Krillin was always certain where Piccolo's allegiances lay. The boy was more than just a pupil to him, he was his first true friend.
"Gohan has the power within him, he just needs to harness it like he did against Cell," growled the turbaned alien in response. They started to fly lower and lower as they approached Capsule Corp.
"I don't know..." replied Krillin. "...he didn't exactly seem himself at the tournament."
"Yeah, well he has a lot going on at the moment, I'm not surprised." Dust kicked up as the two warriors landed on a sidewalk.
"It's just I'm worried about him and Chi-Chi stranded up there in Mount Paozu," continued Krillin. "They must get awfully lone... ly..." The bald monk trailed off as he took in his surroundings. "Erm, Pi... Piccolo?"
The street was empty, not a soul in sight. There was a deep, consuming silence; no sound of traffic, or even of wildlife. Cars were abandoned all along the street, doors left open, and belongings had been discarded in an obviously hurried fashion - a pushchair lay overturned in a front yard just ahead. Krillin knew instantly.
Bojack.
He looked up, about to say something, only to see Piccolo striding away towards the Capsule Corp. dome, his cloak swaying rhythmically.
"Hey, Piccolo! Wait up would ya'!" he shouted as he set off after the Namek. He rounded the corner at the end of the street and chased his friend right up to the front door of the Briefs' home.
The two fighters were met with a metallic shutter, dull grey in colour.
"Do we knock?" asked Krillin jokingly, which earned him a condescending look from his companion.
"Krillin! Krillin, is that you?" A tinny voice erupted from an intercom.
"Dr. Brief?" the minuscule monk exclaimed looking around frantically. In front of them, the shutter over the door started to raise, and slammed shut again once the pair had stepped inside.
On the wall as they entered, Dr. Brief's head and shoulders were displayed on a large monitor, a cigarette poking from beneath his ample moustache and the little, black cat, Scratch, perched on his shoulder.
"Ah, Krillin! Good to see you!" Dr. Brief's voice was now much clearer.
"Dr. Brief, what's going on? What's with all the shutters?" Krillin asked, addressing the monitor. "Is the whole city like this?"
"Dreadful business!" he announced. "Two awful chaps running amok, would you believe! Can't be too careful so I've got the place on lockdown!" In the background of the picture, Mrs. Brief was sat playing with a happy-looking Baby Trunks. "We're fine down here in the safe room, no need to worry!" he stated matter-of-factly.
"Just one thing, Doctor," said Piccolo, redirecting the subject. He knew that all they could do for the people of Earth right now was to stick to their plan and get it done as quickly as possible. "We need the Dragon Radar."
"Is it still in your desk drawer?" questioned Krillin. When Dr. Brief confirmed this, the bald fighter trotted off to fetch it. "Got it!" he announced upon his return.
"Very good!" stated Dr. Brief, his smile poking out from the bottom of his moustache. "Best of luck with the dangerous mission, boys, give our love to Bulma won't you? Say 'goodbye', Trunks!" In the background, Mrs. Brief and the baby, cradled in his Grandmother's arms, waved at them.
"Thanks, Dr. Brief," said Krillin, returning the wave before following Piccolo out of the door. Once out on to the path, the shutter came down again with a thud.
The sun had set fully now, and street lights shedding an almost clinical, artificial light over the remnants of the chaos. Further down the street, one bulb flickered off and on again, a car crumpled against its post.
"I didn't even sense a raised power level," stated Piccolo, taking in the eerie scenes. A macabre realisation of just what they were up against set in, and it was etched across his expression. "We need those wishes now." Without another word, he took off in to the black of the night.
Krillin sighed and placed his hands on his hips. He hated seeing innocents hurt - they all did. Hell, Goku had even chosen to stay dead, sacrificing life with his family, because he was worried his power was drawing too much danger to Earth.
He shook his head defiantly and set off after Piccolo. Bojack had to pay for the things he'd done!
Gohan struggled to weave his way through a crowd of people, all of whom had their bodies, golden halos like his shining above their heads.
He'd stepped off the plane with absolutely no idea where his Father or King Kai might have been, and had been on the cusp of asking if anyone had seen them when he spotted the great mass of people.
The majority of the other passengers had been souls like the little shining orbs he'd met on Snake Way, and so upon seeing others with bodies, he'd elected just to follow the throng.
They hadn't been walking long when they stopped altogether, bunching up like cars in a traffic jam. Most of them were a lot taller than Gohan was, and while he sensed they were all looking at something, he had no way of telling what.
"Hey! Watch it kid!" The young Saiyan apologised to no one in particular for having trodden on a toe. After a great deal more ducking and squeezing, he finally emerged at the head of the mob.
The sight of his Father had often been a cause for relief over the last few years, but Gohan was sure he'd never been so happy so the back of his head, the familiar spiky, black hair as unkempt as he remembered.
"Dad?" Gohan felt his heart soar, as emotion surged at him from every angle.
He'd found him.
A/N
There we are, Chapter Three! I've really tried to think more about Gohan's mindset in this chapter - I'm almost certain he's suffering from PTSD of some kind, and both he and Chi-Chi are likely to be depressed. My idea all along was to show how an 11 year old kid (9 if you prefer the Manga) would deal with what Gohan had to in a more realistic way, and whether he could step up and overcome his demons when he needs to most! I absolutely promise that this will get finished, and that it won't be 6 months before the next chapter (sorry again!). I realise there's a lack of action at the moment, but I promise there will be some soon!
I have a lot of great ideas for this story and for some other DBZ fics that I want to write!
Once again, please share your thoughts and any suggestions for improvement, they really help me a lot! I also apologise for any poor spelling or grammar that I've glossed over!
Many thanks!
Sherbs
