"Did you mean what you called me?" There was a haunting pause to the boy's voice. "On the battlefield against Vegeta?" Shame pooled in Gohan's heart because so much time had passed but he couldn't deny it still pecked at his thoughts nor that he'd never really brought it up. Ms. Naoru had said sometimes old events had more impact than we realized and if you had means to address it, then do.

But asking it was still hard.

But Goku's face was contorted in confusion. "What I called you?"

Nodding, Gohan fought the desire to shout and scream. Was Daddy playing dumb? Was he teasing him? No. No, that wasn't what Daddy did and didn't Ms. Naoru say that you had to be clear and concise? That sometimes what was crystal clear to you was a mystery to others? Much as his parents loved him and understood him, they weren't in his head. "After Vegeta threw me down at you. When we were both bleeding and broken and I told you I couldn't do it anymore...you called me a coward. Did you mean that?"

ChiChi set her husband with eyes full of fire but Goku wasn't paying attention to her. All his eyes were on his son and after a moment, he answered, his voice low and soft. "That's always bothered you, hasn't it?"

Nodding briefly, Gohan said, "I...it was my first time fighting and I wanted to do something right. I wanted you to be proud of me. But I guess that was gettin' uppity, huh?"

Shaking his head, Goku replied "Why would that be bein' uppity?" He sat on the bed after a moment and said, "No. I don't think you're a coward. You're a lot of things but you ain't never lacked for bravery no matter what your brain likes to tell ya."

Flabbergasted, Gohan retorted "Then why tell me that?!" Did he KNOW how that kept him up at night? Did he know how he'd second guess himself, trying to be sure he wasn't being a coward? Did he know—

"To getcha to move." Goku kept his tone level, soft understanding apparent in it. "It was your first battle and if I'd had my way, you wouldn't have been near it. But you were and I could see ya freezin' up. I could see you startin' to panic. So I hadda do somethin' to get you focused again." Here Goku's eyes went low, almost dark. "I didn't have a lotta time to think or I woulda said anythin' else." He reached out and ruffled the boy's hair. "I was wrong."

That was such a simple statement but it meant oh so much. Hearing from his father that no, that statement was not a reflection of hidden inner thoughts but rather spoken in frustration and desperation—all something understandable on a battlefield—was a surge of validation to his heart. "Wrong?"

"Yeah, wrong. I shoulda tried somethin' else. Your full name usually works pretty good. Guess I wasn't thinkin' real clear myself. Hard to do on a battlefield when you're all beat up." He tilted the boy's chin up. "But no. You are a lot of things, son but never a coward."

It was an odd thing. It didn't remove the pain of the words but it...made them seem less powerful. Gohan really didn't know how to describe it but it felt like just knowing that his father didn't harbor those kind of thoughts about him, knowing that his father knew how much it hurt him and knowing his father was sorry that he'd hurt him...that was a powerful feeling. Validation he supposed was the best word for it. Knowing that what you felt was acknowledged and important.

The swirling pool inside him still churned but with significantly less rage.

Goku took a sip of the drinks he'd brought and said. "What else, Gohan? I know you've got a lot of emotions in you and you can let 'em out at me. Let's tackle 'em."

That was just like Dad. Plow ahead, grab life and wrestle it down. He was right, though. He'd already torn the scab off this metaphorical wound. But now they had to drain and cleanse it. He'd felt so much better once he and Mom did that. That became his chant, his mantra. Push through these emotions, release them, tackle them. Look how much his relationship with Mom had improved and he and Dad already had a strong bond.

And if they were going to work through this, he needed to be honest and upfront. Ms. Naoru always said that working through emotions was hard and exhausting but the rewards were always plentiful. He'd SEEN that with Mom. Their relationship was better now than it had been in years. Did that mean he and Daddy could be even closer after they got through all this?

If he could get through this?

Gohan kept that thought tucked into his mind.

"Why didn't you come home?" Gohan's voice was calculated, measured but it was impossible to miss the anger and hurt in it. "After Namek. We had Porunga. He said you refused. Why? Why did you not wanna come home?" Gohan learned into his mother's grip a little. He knew this was something he was going to have to do eventually—after all, he'd confronted his mother with the things she'd hurt him with—but this felt so much harder. But Daddy was letting him. He was just...waiting for it. "Was it because the training was better?" He asked that slowly, hesitantly. "Was what the Yardrats could teach you better than being with me or Mom?"

Goku didn't answer him because the boy obviously wasn't done yet. He saw it in his eyes, felt it in his ki, heard it in his voice.

So he waited.

"Was that what you wanted? Just an excuse to run off and leave us alone? We didn't know where you were, why you didn't come home and the last time I saw you, Super Saiyan had consumed you, Dad!" His hands shook slightly. "Is that how Super Saiyan 2 looked to you, Dad? Cause I didn't recognize you anymore. You told me to go and I understand why but...but...after all that, when you didn't come home, I thought whatever had happened to you had won you over. Eaten you up like some monster."

ChiChi stroked her son's hair back. "It was scary for both of us, Goku." She advised softly "I told him you'd be home again but I don't know if he believed me."

"I wanted to." Gohan's voice choked. "I wanted to but I didn't know because when I left Namek I didn't recognize Dad anymore." He turned, looked his father hard in the face, approached him and hit Goku's chest. Not hard, not with true intent to hurt but with frustration. "Why? You just left us hanging and didn't show back up for over a year! Did you just expect us to keep going like nothing was wrong? You're important here Dad but you left us! You left Mom! You left ME!" At that, his voice broke, again. "You abandoned me again!"

Goku's face softened. "That was never what I was tryin' to do."

"Then why? Why did you stay away? Are we that terrible? Mom's a good wife! I try to be a good son—"

"You are—"

"Then why do people keep abandoning me?!" It was an odd emotion Gohan felt rising in his chest and if he'd the presence of mind to process it, he might have stumbled onto something quite profound. Yet lost amid the emotion he'd kept barricaded in his heart, it was all he could do to simply let it flow free. The fact he felt safe enough to do so was a monumental occasion in itself.

Each individual working through trauma has a lie or altered truth they have come to depend on. Gohan's therapist had mentioned that while addressing his self esteem and perfectionism were ways of getting at the root, he might find himself exposing deeper secrets and needs outside of the therapy room. The all-or-nothing truth, the belief that had colored each sight and feeling one saw, was the true element that had to be altered. The true statement that needed amending from its white or black frame to something more reasonable and rational. In a sense, the umbrella under which all other irrational thoughts and perceptions fell. The root that branched into numerous behaviors and ideas.

The lie or fractured lens as Gohan had come to call it was, unlike popular belief might state, not formed needlessly. The viewpoint, the black-or-white thinking was a survival mechanism. It had kept him alive, it had kept him sane. She'd explained that to him that the issue was that the survival thought processes did not work well outside the survival situation.

"So, what's mine?" He'd asked her a few times.

She'd smiled, warmly. "We don't know yet. Perfectionism is a piece of it and self esteem is a piece of it so let's start there, okay? We'll get to the root of it, together."

"Gohan." His father's solid baritone cut through his panic, through his rushing heartbeat. It brought him back to the moment, back to the room and not just adrift amid so many emotions. "Gohan, I wanted to come home." There was genuine heart in that voice. "I missed you and your Mom and the house and all of it."

"...then why?" Rubbing at his nose, Gohan asked again, "Why?"

"Instant Transmission was a perk, somethin' extra. I stayed away as long as I did to figure out Super Saiyan." Eyes warm, Goku traced his son's jaw. "When I saw you on Namek that first time, it was like looking through a fog. Like I was drownin', I tol' you to run off and leave, 'member?"

Gohan nodded. "I remember."

"You remember why?"

After a brief pause, Gohan answered "You told me to go before you lost what little reason you still had."

Goku nodded. "It terrified me, Gohan. I wanted to come home and I was actually plannin' to leave Yardrat soon as I could sit up but then I thought 'bout what would happen if I slipped into that form again before I could control it. I might hurt you or your mom and I couldn't do that. That's why I stayed. The Yardrats know spiritual stuff. They helped me harness it."

"You didn't tell us." Gohan's accusation felt equal parts frustrated and sincere. "You couldn't have at least told Porunga you'd come home when you were ready?"

Scratching his head, Goku replied. "I thought I did tell 'em that. Didn't know for sure though. Talkin' to a dragon mentally is a weird feelin'. But I told him to tell you I'd be home after I got control of this power of mine."

ChiChi let her eyes soften. "Porunga told us you'd return at your own time."

Goku scowled. "Dragon doesn't listen too well..." He refocused on his son. "I'm sorry, Gohan. I wish I could have been sure you understood. But if you can listen now—I've never stayed away from you and your mom because I wanted to. My favorite place to be is home with you!"

The anger within Gohan seemed to dull somewhat, though not entirely. "I...I hear you, Daddy. I know you didn't mean to make us worry—I think Mom and I always knew that—but I'm still angry it happened."

Goku smiled. "Good. That's okay. Anger isn't a bad thing, Gohan. You can be mad things happened, you can be mad at me, you can be mad at the world. That's okay."

What a revolutionary thought. Anger had seemed for so long to him as this beast that must be contained but hearing now that even if there was no one to be angry at, that it was still his right to BE angry...it was validating. It was comforting. It made him feel heard.

"Thank you, Daddy."

The older man smiled at his son. "You work through what you need to work through. That's why me and your mom are here."

Gohan nodded against the soft comforting voice and his whole body shook. The reassurance helped but he knew they weren't done yet. Not quite. He knew this was the final piece, the final trial to be matched and then maybe, he could be at ease with his past and move on. He knew it had to be addressed even though they'd talked about it before. They'd talked about it a lot. But not...like this. Not with such understanding of emotions and communication and...

"You wanted to stay dead."

Goku closed his eyes heavily. He knew this was coming. He suspected there was some weight still to get out about this. He and Gohan had discussed it but not in depth or detail. Hurt too much for both of them. But he knew it was coming.

"I didn't want to stay dead, Son. I thought it might protect you and Mom if I did though."

Gohan wrung his hands. He grabbed his tail. He had so many thoughts traveling through his mind. So many things..."I'm sorry...I'm sorry I'm being a pain."

"Hey!" ChiChi spoke out firmly from his other side "None of that. This is what we've all been learnin' to do, remember?" She whispered, gently, "It's hard but we'll work through this, right?"

Goku pulled Gohan onto his lap. The boy didn't protest. "Right! We sure ain't experts yet but I think we're gettin' better. You ain't a pain."

That helped some. Gohan rested his head on his father's chest. "I know you told me that you were tryin' to protect us, Daddy."

ChiChi scoffed, if only a little. "Thinks with his heart not his head sometimes," but her voice was full of compassion and Goku met her gaze with a sheepish grin. "But he never meant to hurt us."

"But..." Gohan heaved a heavy sigh as if the weight of the world was settled on his shoulders. "It wasn't because...of me?"

Goku set his son with a look, looking down at him even as Gohan looked up and their eyes met. "Because of you? Why would that have anything to do with it? Are you talkin' about the fight with Cell?"

A slow, cautious bob of the head.

"Gohan, I was so proud of you. It wasn't right for me to just...leave it all to you but I knew you were the only one that could do it. I knew if I hadda stay away, you could take care of things for me. I never once thought of leavin' because of somethin' you did."

Gohan lowered his gaze and went quiet. He heard the words and rationally, he understood them. After all, they'd talked about this before. He understood needing to get control over a transformation state—he understood that far too well— he understood his father had been dead when Piccolo took him.

He understood all this and he pleaded with his mind to finally comprehend. To accept it. To let it be as it was. Yet, somehow, deep down, he also knew he wasn't quite there yet.

He'd learned to tell his parents what he was feeling. He'd learned to accept that sometimes feelings just "were" and to let them come and flow. He'd learned he didn't have to be perfect.

Except his brain still screamed at him if he thought he could do better. Even when there wasn't anything to be won by being better. Even if he had literally collapsed trying. He tried to beat the thoughts back and he was getting better at. Reframing it. Fixing it. But they came so often...

We're still looking for your lens. The singular, overlapping thought that creates all your other thoughts. Think of it like a map, in a way. We're going to tackle the thoughts that are causing you pain but they're also going to be what leads up to the source.

The core belief. The core belief that dictated everything he saw and thought and interpreted. The core belief that even though he knew in his heart his father and mother never meant to do him harm, he still took it to heart, still interpreted it as...as...as...

Gohan's mind was a tumble of thoughts.

"It felt like you were abandoning me. Abandoning Mom." He swallowed. "Abandoning us both. But I know you don't do that that's what it felt like." Biting his lower lip, he said, "I didn't wanna be abandoned again."

ChiChi looked to her husband and the man gently traced his son's cheek. "Gohan...you've said that a lot. Abandon." Goku's voice trembled slightly as he spoke. "Least from what I've noticed. Chi?"

The woman nodded and gently turned her son's head so she could meet his eyes. "You have. Can you talk about that, Gohan?" It was still a awkward but vital practice to notice those kinds of patterns. That was how you uncovered things.

Still reeling a bit, Gohan ran his fingers over his tail to center himself. "Did I?" He knew he had—both his parents wouldn't have mentioned it if he didn't. He hadn't been keeping track but he supposed maybe he had been saying that a lot. "I guess I feel like that a lot. Felt like you were gonna abandon me after Cell even though I know you love me. Felt like you were gonna abandon us after Namek even though you always came home before. But...that was before—well, all of this mess."

ChiChi gently pushed a hair behind her ear. "What changed though, Gohan?"

Think. Think. Think. So many things. So much at once. He fought against the feelings and thoughts, tried to make them make sense. But it was a wave, as if it had been blocked for years and now, it was right in front of him.

When he'd failed against Cell, Dad was gonna leave.

That's not why and you know it. And you bested Cell, remember?

I went back to fight Freeza on Namek and failed. Daddy was so mad and not Daddy and then he didn't come home.

He JUST told us why!

Where was everyone when Piccolo took me?

Dead or...

"No one came for me." Gohan said suddenly. "When Piccolo took me. No one came for me. I know Daddy was dead—don't know if I really understood what that meant then though. What does 'dead' mean to a four year old?"

He remembered feeling cold, terrified and so utterly sure something horrible would happen because how could it not if he was alone? How could it not with no one to help him? Why wasn't Daddy helping him?

"I thought Mom would come." He said softly. "If Daddy couldn't come, then Mom would. That's what I kept telling myself. Mom will come. Mom will come." He turned, looked at her. "Why didn't you?"

ChiChi's eyes were soft. "As soon as I found out, I looked. I looked everywhere I could think to look. If I'd known Bulma'd had something to track you, I'd have used it in an instant." Her eyes were wet. "I didn't even find out you were taken until days after." Her voice went sour. Much as she admitted that Goku's friends had been loyal to her family, that misstep was one that she still found so very hard to forgive.

"You didn't?" Gohan stared at her. "They...didn't tell you?" His heart raced.

"Eventually." She amended, arms folded. "Once I went out and confronted them about it. Then your Grandpa and I were out, looking. Looking anywhere and everywhere. When you finally showed us that island Piccolo dropped you at, I was livid to myself because I landed on that thing so many times."

Gohan paled. She'd been there? On that same island? They might have passed each other and not known it?! The prospect made him feel ill. The idea he might have been able to go home...

But no, no, Piccolo would have...

Gohan grasped at his head, frustrated, angry and overwhelmed.

"Gohan, talk to us." Daddy's voice. "Talk to me."

"He left me alone. Piccolo. He told me that if I survived, he'd train me. I hoped you'd come or Mom or Grandpa. Or someone. They didn't. No one came. No one came for me."

It was an odd thing because it was like all his past experiences, his self doubts, his self talk, in the span of a second, as he combed over the events of his life, something clicked into place.

The lens was suddenly right in front of him. It was staring him in the face and he both felt like a fool for not seeing it and wanting to cry at the prospect of finally being able to fix and wanting to just slump to the floor in despair as he saw those dozens and dozens of branches that sprung from it. They were illlogical connections and he knew this on some level but it didn't matter.

His mind had created his lens years ago when he was a scared little boy in the wilderness and it had formed so many assumptions off balance because of it. His self doubt, his self hate, his perfectionism. It all ran back here. It all tied back here. That simple moment in the wilderness when Gohan's mind decided he had to survive and to survive, it had to make sense of why no one came.

"Piccolo trained me 'cause I was good enough." He said suddenly. "When I wasn't strong enough 'gainst Vegeta people die hadda leave to go fix it. When we weren't good enough against Freeza, Daddy went away. When I wasn't good enough against Cell Daddy went away. When I'm not good enough, people abandon me. Be good, be better or be abandoned."

Gohan turned to his father, flung his arms tight around the man's neck and sobbed. "Be better or be abandoned. Be better or be abandoned."