Disclaimer: I do not Dragon Ball or Dragon Ball Z

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Goku sat in deep snow, sighing from the biting cold hitting his muscles. He and Piccolo had been out in the northern tundra for three weeks. They paused twice a day in their training. Once was for Goku to wolf down a meal. The second time was for rest and another small feast for Goku.

The Namek had called it early today and Goku didn't argue. Even the Namekian's ability to regenerate had reached the limits, and Korrin was still waiting on the next harvest of Senzu beans. As much as it displeased them, it was time to stop and recuperate.

"Where's Gohan?" Piccolo asked while situating into his cape and turban once more. His face was pinched and an edge clung to his words.

Goku grunted and scowled before he answered, "I don't know, Piccolo, you can sense ki too, ya' know."

The Namek returned the sour expression and tried again, "Why isn't he here? We need his power."

"I know. A second Super Saiyan would tip the scales nicely," Goku squished the icy powder in his hand and continued, "Bulma won't let him fight."

"He's a Super Saiyan?"

"Well, mostly. By the time he achieved the form, he was too exhausted to use it, but he could do it with a bit more training," Goku explained. His shoulders sagged while he spoke.

"How do you stop a Super Saiyan, or any Saiyan, from fighting? How are you just tolerating this?" Piccolo demanded.

Goku flopped backward into the snow and said, "She's happy again, Piccolo. I can't just snatch that away."

"What about Gohan? Is he happy?" Piccolo asked only to get no answer. The Namek tisked and snapped out his response, "You might not be able to, but I sure as hell can."

"Huh?" Goku asked, his head raised from the ground. It didn't matter, though, as Piccolo's abrupt departure covered him entirely in upturned snow and dirt.

Goku looked after him for a moment with a frown, thinking. He gauged the distance, the differences in their power and speed. Then he shook his head, stood up, and proceeded to stretch his muscles. A second wind was coming over him and he needed to be ready when Gohan arrived fresh and revving to fight.


"Gohan, look at this sequence! See anything about how the firings line up?" Bulma quizzed with a false chipper voice. Her blue hair was clipped behind her head and she was smiling and waiting for an answer while she worked.

Gohan muffled a sigh, a habit he had begun picking up since his arrival and studied a screen. He answered seconds later, "Three is late, six is early. When do I get to see Videl? It's annoying trying to remember someone I don't actually know."

Bulma sighed as the supposedly educational lesson was proving as pointless a lesson as it was a distraction. There was never an end to the fronts her son attacked from. Some days it was fighting, others it was personal freedoms. Today's current battle was Videl or the lack of her.

She persisted without answering his question, "Dang, where'd you learn about sequencing? I have full-time employees who have to look at it longer than you."

"Stranded on Planet CL-303, prior to that designation it was known as Zeffa. The locals were tougher than expected and smashed my pod up pretty bad. It took an extra month to figure out how to fix it and that was only thanks to the still functional on-board computer. I made sure to learn more when I made it back. It's paid off several times over. Now, I would like to see this Videl girl soon," Gohan said, bartering the thorough answer for one in return.

"Soon, let's get settled in more, though. It's been a long time since any of us have seen them. Now, can you bring those allen-wrenches over here?" Bulma asked. Her hand was sticking out behind her already while she finished talking.

Gohan sighed again. Then he scowled. Sighing. It was an annoying habit and one that Emperor Cooler would have corrected the first time he heard it. He snatched the tools and headed over, still thinking of the leader he used to follow. The leader who lied to him. He forced himself to sigh again, just a little.

"What's with the sigh?" Bulma asked, "You'll get to start seeing people soon, but let's get you a bit more accustomed to life on earth, first. We don't need another episode like in the mall. Or another gas station incident."

"That man laid hands on me," Gohan pointed out.

Bulma nodded, knocking her head against a metal strut in the engine compartment she was ducked into, and yelped, "Ow!... That's fair, but the whole world has been looking for you for years. Composite sketches are still floating around and not everyone knew you were found. He thought he was saving you. Damn, that stung."

"I don't need saving by a man who smelled like...What was that breaded meat on a stick again?" Gohan responded with a crinkled brow.

"Corn dogs, and point taken. He's probably not the best example of the people who were looking for you," Bulma stopped talking as the door opened. Before she could wiggle free of the compartment she heard Piccolo's gruff voice.

"Gohan, we're leaving. Your dad needs you. He'll be back later, Bulma," the Namekian asserted.

The blue-haired scientist scrambled out after the tall fighter and her all-too-willing child while she questioned, "Where? What are you doing? When?"

"North. Goku was taking a break and needed him for something. Later," Piccolo pushed the final door to the outside open and took off, his strong fingers already snatching Gohan up and away with him. He didn't trust Bulma not to try and stop him.

Once they were well and away from the enraged, swearing mother, Piccolo released his grip and the two flew side by side.

"Are we going to train?" Gohan asked. His young face remained controlled and blank like always but his voice had the slightest crack and his ki was abuzz with excitement.

Piccolo smirked and nodded while he said, "Can't let a Super Saiyan go to waste, can I?"

Gohan's face split into a smile, the first real expression that Piccolo had seen on the once open-book child. The two rushed ahead and met up with Goku. The father was still doing his own stretching routine, oblivious to the world around him.

Gohan slid to a stop in front of him and waited. Goku looked at him and shrugged as he said, "Guess you're here now, no sense in worrying about it till we go home. We may bump that return date out a bit now, though."

"I knew you'd see it my way," Piccolo asserted, "I think we need to get control of that transformation first, what about you?"

"Nope," Goku disagreed to the others' surprise. The father elaborated, "No offense, Gohan, but you couldn't hold the form because your body wasn't ready for it. It's almost ready, right there at it, but it'll keep doing more harm than good if we don't fix it now. So, first things first, beef you up some more, maybe a lot more."

Piccolo nodded, seeing the sense in it. Gohan clamped his jaw and took a deep breath. He gave a small nod and waited. Goku groaned and looped his thumbs through his belt.

"No, we're not doing this, Gohan. You're not a soldier. You have an opinion and thoughts. Just say what you're thinking," Goku encouraged him.

Gohan shook his head and said, "It's nothing. I understand, I'll do what I have to. I'm ready."

"Hardly," Piccolo cut Goku's remark off, "That little collared shirt isn't fit to fight in."

A brief flash of light and a fresh dark purple gi replaced Gohan's civilian clothing, his still intact tail wrapping around his waist instinctively. The Namek nodded. Goku argued, "Why's he in your colors?"

"Because between the two of us, I taught him more than you did," Piccolo argued.

Goku rallied to the opportunity of a friendly debate but was cut off by the absence of his son. Up in the air, Gohan had his fists drawn up and in slightly as he readied for the spar and yelled down, "Iza and Tris taught me more than either of you if we're being honest."

"Who are they?" Piccolo asked Goku under his breath.

Goku was interrupted yet again when Gohan continued, with a once again expressionless face, "But if we're being honest, it really doesn't matter right now. Let's get started."


The three years were coming to a close. Goku sat on the couch next to Bulma. The woman was still annoyed with him, Piccolo, and Gohan, but she understood that when it all boiled down, there was nothing she could do to stop them.

"Are you ever going to calm down?" Goku asked, shoulders sagging in the uncomfortable silence.

"I'm not mad. I'm just...the last three years have taught me some important things, I guess," she answered. She crunched on a piece of candy, itching for a cigarette. Yet another attempt to quit.

"Like," Goku asked.

Bulma looked away, her eyes misting over, and said, "It's nothing, just some horrible thoughts, I suppose."

"Bulma…" Goku prodded. His calloused hand laid over her slender one.

She still didn't look at him but her answer came out in shaking words intermixed with sharp breaths. She said, "Our little boy never came home, Goku. You brought back a body, but that's it. Gohan isn't in there."

"Bulma!" Goku almost gasped out.

"It's true. He acts so well with you because all you do is fight and train and get ready for a death battle, but with anyone else? He's a terror. It's just another Vegeta, as quick to tear into verbally as well as physically. Kami, I'm a terrible mother for saying it, don't you think I know that! I'd never tell him that, of course, but damn me if it isn't true," Bulma cried, her face buried in her hands by the time she finished.

Goku rubbed her back in silence. Unsure what to say, he stumbled through his response, "Maybe we just need to get past all this android mess, then we can just be a family. That'll help all of us."

Bulma nodded and wiped at her eyes with a sniffle before she said, "I've got a cookout planned for tomorrow, like the old times. I still haven't heard back from Mark and Lily. Gohan's been asking since you got him back about Videl, and they've never returned my calls. They've moved out of their apartment. I just want everyone together before this next batch of crazy hits. It's been three years, I can't keep delaying it, and maybe it'll help if he sees me actually working with him on something instead of against him all the time."

Goku rolled his shoulders and said, "I'll go talk to them in person, you know, get us an answer."

Bulma just nodded. Goku stood and rubbed her arm before taking his leave. He headed through the halls of Capsule Corps towards the exit. Piccolo spotted him as soon as he stepped out. Goku waved and greeted, "Hey, there! I've got to do some running for Bulma. Could you keep an eye on Gohan for me?"

"I'll keep both on him," Piccolo confirmed.

Goku took off, covering the distance between West City and Orange Star. The rugged country separating the two municipalities blurred by under him. Orange Star soon spread out before him.

It didn't have the intimidating, official-looking offices that the industrious West City was composed of. In their place was vast shopping malls, outlet centers, and everything a shop-a-holic could want. Two water parks could be spotted along with one amusement park. In short, it was a consumer's paradise. Goku shook his head, this is why he wanted to avoid living in cities.

It was easy to find the Satan's new home. A massive mansion that dominated a large estate on the northern half of the city. Goku landed behind the high walls and gates that separated the property from the world outside.

Dead in front of him was a large statue of a well-muscled man holding up a ridiculous belt. Goku stared harder at the stone man. The full afro and thick mustache are what clicked. It was Mark Satan, or Hercule as his stage name was. He was massive, much larger than he had been all those years ago.

Goku wanted a closer look but was caught off guard when the double front doors swung open and the very man himself walked out. A butler hung back to shut the doors again. The Saiyan furrowed his brows at the swagger Mark carried himself with. His power was higher, impressive when compared to most earthlings. The arrogance in his shoulders was a much less welcome sight.

Something was missing, however. A ki he had memorized hovered deep inside the house. Videl's. It was an energy he would always remember, forever terrified of losing his friend's daughter when entrusted with watching the kids alone. Her energy felt lonely, much like Gohan's did to this day. That still wasn't what was missing, though.

Where was Lily? Goku couldn't find her power anywhere. It did no good to focus further as Hercule stopped a little ways away. He nodded and barked, "Son Goku."

Goku did his best to grin and approached with his hand out as he said, "Mark, it's great to-"

"It's Hercule now, officially. Has been for a while, ever since I won the championship," Hercule corrected his old friend. His blue eyes misted over as he stared hard at the wild-haired man.

Goku nodded and said, "The World Martial Arts Championship? That's great! Congrats!"

"Thank you. What do you want, Goku?"

Goku paused. The hurt in his friend's voice didn't go unnoticed. He gave an awkward chuckle and said, "Sorry to just drop by like this. Bulma has this BBQ planned for tomorrow. We'd love to have you all over. I know Bulma has missed Lily, and Gohan has been dying to see Videl. We just didn't feel it was right until he-"

"Lily's dead, Goku," Hercule paused to let the words hit home, "Cancer took her. You guys had all run off on us, the people able to cheat death."

Goku stammered, "I'm so sorry. I had no idea. We've got so much going on. There's this problem with androids and Gohan is still struggling-"

"I don't care, Goku," Hercule barked and worked his jaw a couple of times, "Look, it's nothing personal, okay? I just can't keep exposing my daughter to this. I mean, androids! Really, what could you even mean? Not to mention who knows what will happen with Gohan, who's to say he won't lose it? I've seen the news. He came home years ago and you all still keep him hidden away. I'm sorry, but this is ridiculous. Your family is a ticking time bomb."

Goku couldn't believe his ears. All he could do was watch while Hercule retreated into his home. He knew Bulma would be heartbroken, but what about Gohan?

The party started and Goku was keeping an eye on Gohan from across the lawn. They had agreed to not tell Gohan. Well, Bulma had decreed it and Goku couldn't get her to budge. Not yet. It wasn't time for it. Besides, Gohan was still struggling with life on earth in general.


"Kakarot, surrender the spicy sauce! You've been hogging it!" Vegeta bellowed. The promise of Panchy's cooking had assured his presence. Serene might love him, but her cooking was as pitiful as Bulma's. Goku chuckled as the prince snagged the bottle of hot sauce from him.

"Glad to see you back. Where've you been?" Goku asked between his own bites.

Vegeta grumbled and swallowed but answered, "Took that ship your wife built out for some training. I refused to share a gravity room, even with you."

"You know, I haven't been using the one here in the house, right?" Goku asked with a grin.

"What?" Vegeta nearly spat as he asked.

Goku shrugged and said, "I've been training with Gohan and Piccolo. Anyway, how're you coming with training?"

"It's fine," Vegeta cut the conversation short.

"Good, good," Goku grinned and teased, "Don't you want to know how our training is coming?"

"No. Now, let me eat!" Vegeta snapped.

Goku huffed but left the prince alone. He wasn't up for pulling teeth from his reluctant friend. He busied himself with passing the time with his friends, trying to keep spirits high.

On the other side of the yard, Gohan stood next to Piccolo in silence. The Namek was a beacon of quietness that the boy clung to amidst the group of people. They were milling about, talking, chewing, moving, everyone going in different directions with no goal. It was all too much at times.

In a matter of days, the long-awaited showdown would be staring them in the face. They would head into battle. He creased his brow, comparing his father's group to what his short but experience-filled life told him. They expected to go into this and win, fixing any damage with their Dragon Balls. He expected to win too, but he already accepted that victory came with lasting consequences.

"Have some confidence, everyone here that matters knows the risk of battle," Vegeta scoffed as he approached. His lips were covered in grease and hot sauce and his fingers dug at meat stuck between his teeth. He sighed in appreciation and flicked the fleck of meat away.

Serene tried to bridge the still uncomfortable silence and explained, "Your ki is feeling pretty tense, everyone is picking up on it."

"Oh…" Gohan commented.

"So, chill the hell out and enjoy the good food. We both know it's better than Cold Empire grub," Vegeta remarked with a smirk. Gohan gave a hesitant chuckle and nod.

Goku watched the exchange with a grin until Vegeta headed for him. The prince studied him with glowering eyes until he stood just a few steps away. The flame-haired man spoke, "Kakarot, what do you plan to do after this about him?"

"Who? Gohan? Oh, we're going to work getting him more used to life here, you could help if-"

"Are you truly that blind? He's lived a life of action, that's all he knows. If he slows down and gets hit with reality on this little mudball, there will be a mess that you don't want to handle. Take my word for it of all peoples," Vegeta scoffed. Both of them cast cautious glances towards the young teen still picking at a plate of food.

"What do you mean?" Goku asked.

Vegeta nodded towards the group of human party-goers gathered around a table and said, "He's been in more fights than anyone here save myself in such a short life, and has killed more than most of you combined. Do you really think he'll manage a calm life on a planet full of people that judge him as a monster? I've made peace with what I've done. He's never had enough down time to make that peace, and trust me when I say that it's a messy process. Messy and wild."

"Then what do we do?" Goku asked, almost pleadingly. Vegeta shrugged and said, "Short of letting him settle affairs with Cooler, which I doubt you're going to do, all you can do is buckle up for anything. Gods help us if the media ever discovers him and stays in his face. Cooler has taught him to deal with no shit, and he just may teach your little paparazzi the same lesson."

The last sentence was said with a bark of laughter before the prince walked off for the buffet once more.