Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball or Dragonball Z

A/N: Hey, everyone! I know it's been a while. Busy, busy, all the stuff in life that enjoys hitting you in the face, you all know how hard you have to fight sometimes. Anyway, onto the good news! Here's Ch. 34! It is focused on Gohan for the most part, setting up the family dynamic for the time being. Personal good news if anyone cares! I got my house sold! Woohoo, that mortgage was getting old fast. The second cool thing, my second book(the things I write that get looked at by an actual editor and not sleep deprived me running on 12-hour old coffee) is roughly half-way finished! What does this mean for you all? Well, I don't really know, but I'm still excited about it. That's enough of me, though, I hope you enjoy the chapter. If not, I'm sorry but this is what popped into my head for this part of the storyline to get us closer to big moments that really count!

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Goku drug himself through the door of his home, already wincing at the raised power level of his son. He knew what he was walking into, and the thought of his empty mountain cabin filled his head.

"You'll destroy the earth! Short of your father who could stop you!" Bulma's voice was already reaching him. Goku sighed, it seemed round two had truly started. A short stretch of silence filled the halls.

Whatever calm response Gohan had issued had obviously been wrong in the eyes of Bulma. She shrieked, "The tail is coming off first thing in the morning! Do you-"

Goku rounded the corner just in time to see Gohan enter his room. Gohan the soldier, the leader, not the boy. The boy had gone to sleep that first night and had yet to wake back up. Bulma stomped along hot on his heels until the door closed in her face. Goku gave a startled noise, giving his presence away. His wife whirled around to face him with a finger shaking at him.

"Son Goku, talk some sense into your damn son before he King-Kong's half of west city into dust tomorrow night!" she demanded her finger now into his chest.

Goku scratched at the back of his hand nervously and said, "Bulma, don't you think that's a little-"

"I know King-Kong is probably another euphemism for monkey!" Gohan declared through the door.

Goku sighed as he watched his wife throw her hands up and storm off. Goku hesitated before approaching Gohan's door.

"You are not removing my tail," Gohan snapped through the walls.

"Come on, Gohan, what's the big deal? It's not like you need the transformation," Goku reasoned.

"I use it to fight."

"Then change your style up?"

Gohan stayed quiet until Goku prodded, "Gohan?"

He answered in a defeated tone, "A minimum of one-tenth of our power is our tail, I'm already not allowed to train, I can't afford to grow weaker."

Goku stood with his forehead leaned against the door, but words simply wouldn't come. Gohan continued, "I had a purpose before you found me. My job was to fight and take care of the problems. Now, I can't fight, I can't train, I can't even help take care of any problems."

Goku wrung his hands and offered, "How about this? You don't slam any more doors in your mom's face and I'll be sure you keep that tail. I can't promise more than that."

"Deal"

Goku wasn't finished, "However, once you can become a Super Saiyan I can't say if she'll keep agreeing to it."

Gohan was quieter as he repeated, "I understand."

True to his father's word, the topic of his tail was indeed dropped. The other issues persisted through the following days. The idea of a complacent life struck him as insane. Old King Cold may be dead, but the King of the Universe and Emperor Cooler would still both be aiming for his head eventually. He had caused too much trouble under Cooler's name before deserting.

These were the problems that concerned him as he walked through a mall alongside his mother and grandmother. His feet crammed into uncomfortable shoes, sneakers she had called them. Dysfunctional clothing covered him, making movement a hassle beyond the basics.

Still, even lost in thoughts as he was, his senses were still razor-sharp. A loud, cracking-boom sounded off behind a crowd. He had his family members knocked to the ground behind a decorative fountain before the first scream even finished.

"Gohan!" Bulma never got to finish as more shots rang off.

Gohan peered around the corner of the raised cement pool and watched a group of armed thugs rush into the plaza from a nearby shop. One of them stepped forward, holding something small in his left hand. His right waved a pistol.

"People, people, people! Lend me your ears!" he yelled to the frightened masses, "All we want is a clean exit, and no one else has to get hurt! Don't go running for the exits, it'll just end badly for you."

Gohan made to stand up from hiding but Bulma yanked him back by the arm. She hissed, "What are you doing? Let the police handle this."

"Why? So that these people can terrify the citizens even longer? I can handle this just fine," he snapped back. His eyes burned in anger while she returned the same ferocious stare.

"This isn't how this planet works, Gohan," she said. He gave it a moment's thought to consider her words in fairness, but then he yanked his arm back and said, "That sounds like a bigger mistake on the people's part than on mine!"

She grabbed his wrist again and silenced any argument when she cut him off in a frantic whisper, "Fine. If you're going to insist on playing peacekeeper, at least be smart about it for our sake."

She yanked off her over vest and belt. Soon the designer, denim affair was firmly cinched around his head, hiding as much of his face as possible. The glint of the golden belt buckle atop his head did all the work.

"Oh, his eyes, dear!" Panchy pointed out. She held out her atrocious sunglasses. Gohan had no more time to argue as the sound of boots moving reached him. Scared whimpers and pained grunts accompanied it. He snatched the sunglasses and shoved them on.

With his temporary disguise on, he stepped up and spoke up, "Stop right there."

The group turned to look at him. Several chuckles could be heard at the sight of him. He resisted the urge to see his own reflection in the shop windows. He started forward while issuing instructions, "Let them go and surrender. There will not be a second warning."

A thin, tall man laughed behind his ski mask and said, "Check out Danger Denim. Careful, he might-"

Whatever his joke was intended to be, it was cut short. Being a gunman and not holding a hostage had made Gohan's choice easy. In what seemed to be an instant, he stood where the criminal had previously occupied. A dull crack sounding from the end of the hall.

The leader leveled his pistol at him and held his left hand higher yelling, "What did you do? Answer me-"

"Let me guess, or else you'll kill your only ticket out of here? Kill me? Yell at me for being a bad kid? Because those are about your only options since you can't be stupid enough to actually set off a bomb. I mean, it would have to be nearby to be useful and you're still…" Gohan trailed off and gestured around them. He let the obvious implication settle in.

"You don't get it kid, this is all or nothing. Either we leave here rich and free, or no one leaves here. Now, what happened?" the man said, a new tilt to his voice.

Gohan nodded, recognizing the familiar crazed tone. He jabbed a thumb down the hall. At the end, the jokester laid in a pile at the bottom of a wall that sported a new series of cracks.

The man looked back and nodded, "One less split, I guess."

Gohan nodded and watched the other of his group. No hesitation amongst any of them. Not even a second glance towards the corpse or their leader's callousness. He sighed and vanished from sight once more.

The hand holding the bomb trigger was the first thing to go. Careful not to push the button, he discarded the appendage while zipping between criminals. Broken and beaten before they could blink, he demolished the group in a second but left alive those that he could. However, if they had a hostage, chances were not taken.

When the last thug hit the ground in an unconscious heap, Gohan took a moment to survey the hostages. Bruises and sprains seemed to be the biggest issue. One younger man sported a black eye. Content that they would survive, he turned for the store the criminals exited from, to begin with. He'd heard the gunshot and had to be sure.

His movement seemed to be the pebble that broke the dam of anticipation. The reality of the event took its toll. People rushed away from the scene, eager to be away from the nightmare. Others sat and cried. Only a few individuals rushed to catch up to him, maybe to help or maybe just to be nosey.

Gohan walked through the doors to a long counter separated from the rest of the room by glass windows. The doors beyond that were open and a body laid on the floor, a too-large puddle of blood surrounding it. A bank and a dead guard. Gohan sighed and turned back around. There was no need in him hanging around.

Back in the main building, his mother and grandmother watched the world around them with tired eyes. Their sight flickered about before settling on him. He gave a simple shake of his head. Sirens could be heard now and heavy footfalls on the concrete floor.

"You may want to get on out of here. Vigilantes aren't very welcome by the police," an extremely large man said with a small smile and a shaky gaze. His over-sized hands clenched into fists till his knuckles turned white. Gohan nodded and started to walk away to his mother when he continued, "Maybe don't give it all away by leaving with your mom, kid."

Gohan grinned a little, although the mask hid it, and said, "Yeah, I guess you're right. Thank you."

The large man waved him off and said, "It's nothing, my boy. The world owes you Son people more than we could repay."

Gohan froze and tried to stare at him but the man simply shoved him away with a gentle reminder.

Later that night, Gohan kept the man's words to himself, intent to not worry his mother. The feeling was not mutual. Over dinner another lonely dinner he was chastised again and again for his actions. His father's absence left him to fend for himself.

"You could've missed one, they could have shot wildly, your actions could have gotten people killed, Gohan! It was incredibly reckless. This is not how things work here, we've been over that," she snapped, her manicured nails clicking into the glossy, wooden tabletop.

Gohan stayed quiet and kept eating. It had been the same argument with different words since she had returned home. An unending tirade of how the legal forces of Earth operated.

"How did anything ever get resolved if this is how that Cooler monster let you act?" she questioned.

Gohan knew it was a rhetorical question but the words left his lips regardless, and he said, "Quickly and efficiently."

"Pardon me?" Bulma asked, a tone of honest confusion in her voice.

Gohan wiped his face and replied, "You wanted to know how anything was resolved? Well, everything was resolved quickly and efficiently. Either something or someone worked or they didn't."

"What a totalitarian view," she sighed.

"Everything and everyone had a purpose, if not then it, or they, were no longer needed for the greater good. How could that be wrong?" he returned.

"Because people aren't tools. Because you cannot be the judge, jury, and executioner, and because you are not and were never a soldier!" Bulma snapped, her face reddening.

"No, if we were going by your standards then I was a murderer, wasn't I? A genocidal maniac bent on domination for nothing more than my own pleasure, isn't that right?" he snapped back. Bulma fell silent. Her face falling as she took a sudden interest in her nearly untouched plate.

Gohan finished his meal in silence before standing and giving a small bow with expression. He said, "Thank you for dinner. A final comment for your thoughts tonight, though. If I'm such a monster then why not use me against the androids?"