Vegeta stared at the healing tank where Kakarot's eldest floated unconsciously. Against his wishes, he had been submerged, it wasn't going to take long unlike Vegeta's healing, the brat had been the least injured out of the two.

The prince had even been surprised that he managed to break his hand and nose, usually, it would take either extreme force or an unprepared opponent to break someone's bone, and the brat was stronger than him, so, that only meant that Vegeta had taken him by surprise. The half-breed had thought of it as friendly sparring. Still, the power he showed after being taunted with his father's sacrifice, it had been a low blow, Vegeta admitted but the power, if he wished, that half-breed could bring the destruction of the damned world.

He heard the door slid and the footsteps of someone getting closer and closer until that person was next to him.

"I still think you should take the second healing tank, you look awful."

He frowned at Bulma's words because she was right. Vegeta felt awful, his hand hanging in an abnormal position, and he was sure he had a few broken ribs. He still didn't like how the woman said it so plainly.

"He lost control."

"I saw. You guys completely destroyed the Gravity Room and my father's workshop and all in between, what happened?" Bulma's voice was plagued with concern.

"The brat lost control, that's what happened."

"Vegeta."

That stupid tone. His eyes stayed fixed on the half-breed, his cuts and bruises healing but from the reflection of the liquid, his burn wasn't. Peculiar.

"It's a fight or was, and he was blocking or evading all of my attacks, he wasn't fighting like a true Saiyan. So, I gave him some motivation, though I think he was too sensitive to it."

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Bulma's arms crossed and her face made into that accusatory expression of hers. "What did you say?"

"Doesn't matter," he gruffed.

"It does when he was about to kill you."

A moment of hesitancy because Vegeta knew what the woman was going to say, and he didn't need to be reprimanded by her of all people. He was a fucking prince for fuck's sake, even if it was to people like Kakarot's son, he was still his prince. But Bulma wouldn't leave the subject alone, she was as stubborn as they came. He sighed.

"I said he couldn't fight so, he had to wait his father sacrificed himself to save him."

At that moment, Gohan stirred in the tank, almost as if he had heard Vegeta's words. But the tense moment passed as quick as it came, and the brat stayed unconscious.

"You said what?! Fuck, Vegeta, that's even low for you!"

"Shut up!" He snarled. "You think the enemy will be careful of his words when they fight? That the enemy will not try to taunt him and mock him and humiliate him? He should've been in control of his emotions, and he wasn't."

Bulma looked at her husband, waiting to find him with a prideful or even angry look, as he always did when he made a mistake but instead found something very different, she found traces of concern and fear. All her scolds had washed away as she saw the prince stare intensely at the healing tank. If Vegeta was concerned, this was deeper than she thought. He seemed to read her thoughts.

"He gave me this look, this look of utter hate and disgust. At that moment, I was no longer his sparring partner, I was his enemy," his voice was serious and hard. "I haven't seen him act like that since the Cell Games."

"This brat has an immense power, his unorthodox training has help him gain some control and incremented it," he said touching the glass. "But he can't rein all of it, he doesn't know how to use it to his will for his advantage which means bad news if he is to confront an enemy."

Vegeta had not seen that level of ferocity in that half-Saiyan, he was usually so calm and reserve, not so much quiet for he loved to talk back to the prince but he still tried to be courteous. In that fight, Vegeta had seen him in another light, his ki spiked with only one emotion to be picked up. Anger. So much anger. And in his anger, he was ready to destroy anything and everything. He fought like a true Saiyan warrior for a second, however, he needed to sort out his pathetic human emotions, with luck, get rid of them.

Perhaps then he would no longer be a humiliation for the Saiyan race.

"What do you think we should do?"

He looked at her in a scowl. "Why you're asking me? It's his problem."

Bulma met his scowl with hers. "You're telling me this and when I ask you what can we do, you tell me that it's his problem? Such help you are."

"Woman, do I look like a fucking therapist to you? If you want someone to talk to him about his emotions, contact the Namek he so much cares about. I am just giving my opinion on what I saw."

"You shouldn't have said that about Goku though, you crossed a line there, after all, perhaps that struck a nerve."

"He wanted a fight, he got his damned fight and all it comes with it, even the fucking scars," he said limping away.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"Rest. After the brat's finished with his treatment send him home, I don't want that monster he calls mother to come scream at me. The sooner he's out of my hair, the sooner I can go back to training."

Bulma sighed. "You can always take the second tank, you need it."

"I am the Prince of all Saiyans!" He snarled as he made his way to the door. "I can handle the pain well on my own."

She shrugged. Of course, why try to reason with the prince of all pride in the world.

"And woman," he added.

"Yeah?"

He sighed and looked incredibly irritated. "I might have gotten out of hand with this fight today. I'll try to be more," he stopped as if it was painful to even say it. "Be more diligent next time."

Bulma smiled. If she didn't know better, it looked like the mighty prince was apologizing but she knew better, so she said nothing as the prince limped out of the room to rest. The smile was still present on her face.

Gohan hated the healing tank, he despised it with all his heart. Every time he saw that machine, his mind went to Namek which then went to Frieza and his army and his father in that machine and the fights and the deaths and the pain- he hated that thing, and it had taken more time than it should have to convince him to get on it. It had been him who had tried to convince Bulma that he could wait until they got some Senzu beans or he could ask Piccolo to get him to Dende, hell, he had even gotten as far as saying he could heal on his own.

It had been until she had threatened to call up Chi-Chi and tell her the truth that he had conceded with only one condition: heal him to the bare minimum so he didn't have to spend so much time stuck in that horrible machine.

His father had once told him that those who were in that tank were blissfully peaceful, that it was a soothing sensation. Truth be told, his father was right. It felt nice, as if for once in all his current life he felt happy, truly happy, without stress and pain. It was weird, the painless sensation of calmness. He had gotten used to the pain, the heartache, that a moment where he wasn't in pain was weird even when he was in a dream-like situation.

In his dreams, his father was there, with him and his mother and Goten, too. He was happy, in his orange and blue gi, smiling down at him with that smile that made Gohan believe he was going to be alright. He would be training with him, Goten would be on his shoulder, and they were happy. His mother making food, scolding his father for his habits but deep down she was glad he was there. In his dreams, there was no pain, no enemy or opponent that would take his father away from him. There were no feelings of bleakness or emptiness, there was calm and peace and normality.

Brightness instead of darkness.

Then, they were up in the air, flying and Gohan felt the wind blow through his hair, caressing his face. And he felt free, he felt happy, truly happy. His father was there with him, laughing with him, smiling down and challenging him to go higher. And Gohan went higher, and he could touch the clouds, the blue sky and the birds were his companions. He could hear his father's laugh, the one he didn't know how bad he missed it, and he heard his laugh as well. The whole world went brighter, the trees were green and the panoramic was beautiful. He felt free, free of responsibilities, of sadness, of guilt and pain. The pain didn't exist and all he felt was childish innocence.

He was happy. And if he just stretched a bit, he would touch his father. He tried and he could feel the texture of his gi, the warmth of his skin was palpable and his laughter echoed through the wind and skies, and he was almost able to touch his hand if he just stretched a bit more-

"Gohan."

He woke up and the dream fell in pieces, and he realized he was wet and in Bulma's healing tank. The exhaustion had left his body, his muscles didn't ache and he could breathe without problems through his nose. He looked up and saw Bulma, taking all the equipment off him. He felt his ki and was surprised to see it had grown stronger, the fight had served its purpose in a way. He waited patiently for Bulma to take off the stupid mask. Perhaps that machine had given him a beautiful dream but he didn't want to overstay in it, because he wasn't in a dream, he was in reality.

And the reality was that his father was gone.

Once the mask had been taken off, Gohan managed to speak. "Thanks."

"No problem," Bulma said. "We managed to heal most of your injuries, your broken hand and nose are mostly healed. Here, have a look."

She passed him a mirror and he saw his face. The black eye, bruises and red mess that was his nose were non-existent. He looked fine as if he hadn't gotten into a fight with the most pretentious fuck in history. All there was to prove he had been injured was faint scars and a slightly crooked dorsum that the healing tank hadn't had time to heal, and would not heal because Gohan wasn't going to spend more time in that fucking machine.

He stretched out his hand, rotated it and moved his fingers. There was a bit of resistance but no pain and no cracking either which was good. Although he could feel the movements of his hand become a little bit slower than the ones of his other hand. But that could heal at a normal rate.

Next time I should really phrase well the words 'I'm looking for a fight' to Vegeta, that asshole. Even though Gohan had been in search of a fight, the prince had really taken those words too literally. Though he had to admit, he did help him get all that energy out, and ironically, he felt much better but perhaps that had to do with the healing tank.

Out of curiosity, he extended his left shoulder inwardly and a resounding crack echoed. Bulma flinched, it sounded like it hurt. "It doesn't, or at least, most of the time it doesn't," Gohan explained.

"I'm afraid that your burn, however, wasn't healed at its totality. You still have the outline of the crescent moon scarred in your shoulder blade. We could heal completely if you stayed for a bit longer-"

"No," Gohan said immediately. "I already spent enough time in this thing for decades. It's just another scar, in the end. Help me get out of this, please."

Bulma did so, Gohan had gotten submerged with his gi on, wanting to have a bit of dignity left but Bulma had his normal clothes right beside the healing tank so, he could change. With the gi, one could see how muscular Gohan really was, something that was hidden with his normal clothes, and in a way, made him more threatening than usual. Vegeta's words resounded in the woman's head, she had seen the destruction they had made, but in his eyes, instead of a killing machine, she saw kindness and nobility.

She saw his father's eyes.

"Your mother called. Demanding where were you, I told her that you had a spar and that you both lost track of time, that you'll arrive soon," she then took something from her pocket. A pack of cigarettes. "Since when do you smoke?"

Gohan groaned. "I need one," he tried to reach but Bulma took them from him.

"Gohan, you're seventeen and you're already smoking."

Yeah, and I seriously need one or four right now. "Please?"

Bulma gave him a look, but it would be hypocritical of her to say no. Caving in, she handed him one, he took it with eagerness and lit it up. He sat down on the nearest chair. She took that moment to ask him about the fight. "About what happened this afternoon-?"

"I'm sorry," he cut her off. "I had a stressful day, and I took the fight too seriously. I shouldn't have left that comment get to me. It won't happen again."

"Gohan, you know that what happened that day wasn't your fault, right?"

"Yeah, I know." But you weren't there, you didn't see dad's look as he saved the world, his smile. His fucking smile as he sacrificed himself because of my mistake.

"Are you okay?"

Gohan took a drag, then he shrugged. "Yeah, I just had a stressful day, as I've told you. The customers were really bitchy today and then everyone was talking about this vigilante. It was annoying. But don't worry, Bulma, I'm okay. I won't blow a fuse."

Bulma nodded, in his face, there was no sign of lying and she had no reason to suspect he was lying. Gohan wasn't like that, he was honest and perhaps a bit too sarcastic at times but he still was good. He had no malice in his eyes. She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"I heard about that vigilante. You think he can be a problem?"

Gohan scowled. "No, he's doing a good thing, he's dealing with the bad guys. I don't see a problem with him."

"Mmh, okay, then good to know, I was getting worried there."

Gohan smiled. Then, he exhaled the smoke he was holding in. "By the way, I'm sorry about Vegeta. I hope he's okay."

Bulma waved him off. "Oh, he's fine. His pride is a bit hurt but he's okay. He took the second tank. And he deserved it, he shouldn't have made that comment. He took it too far as well."

"I should get going, mom is already going to be mad for overstaying and if she finds out that I lost control, I'll never hear the end."

"I'll let you get dressed. And Gohan, you should come to visit more often, to get your mind off work and all, I think my father has told you all about the new project, are you interested?"

His eyes lit in a childish-like way. "Of course! It's something very ambitious and risky but I want to see the results. I'll try to come by on my days off. And if I spar with Vegeta, I promise that it won't get out of control again."

"Take care of yourself, kiddo."

Bulma felt nostalgic all of the sudden. When did the four-year-old boy with a tail who came to Kame House all those years ago become this seventeen-years old teen? By Kami, she was old.

"Bulma?"

She snapped out of her thoughts. Oh, right, she was still in the room. "I'm sorry, I'll leave."

"Can I get my pack back?"

"Kid, smoking is no joke, it's serious business. I don't think you should continue."

"Come on, we all have our vices and it's not like it will kill me, I'm half-alien."

Being this fucking vigilante will kill me before the cigarette has a chance to, I'm sure of that.

Bulma sighed. "Just don't overdo it, alright?"

"I promise."

Gohan took barely two steps inside his house before his mother, in all her glory and with a big scowl on her face, started demanding why he took so long. However, she quickly changed of attitude when she looked at him in more detail. He didn't know how she could see the last of his injuries when not even he could see the difference between that morning and now.

"Gohan! What happened!"

"I got into a sparring match with Vegeta, though we might have taken it too seriously. I lost track of time, I'm sorry."

Chi-Chi was already touching his face, asking hundreds of questions and ranting about how he should've been more careful and how Vegeta had no decency anymore. Gohan would've thought of the gesture as a nicety because it meant his mother worried about him, if he hadn't had such a bad day, all he wanted was to go to sleep and be left alone.

"Mom, mom, mom. I'm okay, I swear."

"Your nose is crooked."

He sighed. "It will heal with time, I don't plan on sparring with Vegeta for a while." And that was the truth, after the comment he made about his father, he needed some time to control the urge to punch him every time he saw him.

His mother didn't look satisfied with that answer but she didn't press about it, instead, she pulled her hands away from his face and went to the kitchen. "I saved you some dinner, here, you must be famished."

And on cue, his stomach growled. Fucking traitor. He chuckled. "I could eat." He made his way to the table and sat down quietly. His mother brought the plates to him, and even when he tried to do something for himself, she denied it.

They ate in mostly silence. With Goten asleep, they didn't have much to talk about. It pained Gohan, to see how strained his family bond had gotten. He could see his mother's tries at making talk but they never could move past small talk. Had Goten been there, he would've ranted about his adventures in the forest or the friendships he started with the animals. Then, his mother would've scolded him about his eating manners and Gohan would've laughed and it would all flow relatively well.

His father had always had this gift, this gift of bringing people together even in the hardest moments. He could break the tension in a second with a funny remark, or his never-ending appetite, even his stupidest questions would start the conversation. Goten had inherited that gift from him, Gohan, however, had not.

After a while, his mother decided to speak. Her tone was careful and her words had been chosen with precision, Gohan knew what she wanted to talk about.

"About the subject of going to school-"

"Mom, can we not do this today?"

A frown. "It's not that complicated. It's for your good."

"I'm fine finishing my high school years here. It's not like I'll be missing huge things for my studies."

"It will give you more experience with people, with kids your age. It might be a chance for you to lead a normal life."

Gohan snorted. "Normal? I think you forget that all I've been through hasn't been normal."

"Exactly," her frown turned into something resembling regret and Gohan hated that. "You have been through a lot and I think that now in this time of peace, you could use some normality."

"If you wanted me to socialize, I do that all day at work."

"Well, it's would also look good for future colleges if you went to a high school. It would boost your application even more. Orange High is a good and prestigious school which I think would broaden your horizons."

Gohan nodded in agreement. "A prestigious school that will cost us more than we can pay no matter how many scholarships I win. And we need the money, we are about to live day to day."

"You don't need to worry about that-"

"If I'm gone, then who will help you with the house, who will help you with Goten or go fishing for food-"

Chi-Chi put her hand on his. Gohan immediately stopped ranting and looked at his mother. She looked tired, yes, older than she was too but her eyes showed understanding and determination. "You don't need to worry about us, Gohan. We have managed while you are gone. It won't change. You don't need to take care of us."

Take care of your mother for me. She needs you.

Gohan looked away. "What about work?"

"I want you to focus on your studies a hundred percent. With what my father will help us with, you can stop working."

He hated how he was actually thinking about it, how fucking arrogant of him to think that he could manage to live double lives. But he was thinking about it, and his brain found good arguments and counterarguments. It would be like working, maybe even less tiring and demanding. It ended sooner than work, too. He could easily give excuses to his mother about going out with friends to actually go in search of Kiu's organization (and others who cross his path).

But, it would mean spending time sitting down listening to people idolizing that idiot of Mr. Satan, and he would have to hide his abilities to even more people. Mister Abi and Glen never did care how he got to work nor the fact he was the only one who could take the bags of flour and not break a sweat. They left him be as long as he did his job. Those students would probably either make fun of him or be all up his business. Without forgetting they would be fucking pretentious for having money to pay the damn year.

Even if everything went right, he wouldn't be able to live a 'normal' life. He was still wanted for murder, he was still working to rid the city of crime and he would have to fake a lot of things. What 'friend' he had would not be close to him. It was inevitable that it would sooner or later blow up in his face.

"What about the murderer?" Oh, yeah, idiot go ahead and use that card as if you didn't tell Bulma he was no threat.

His mother seemed to read his mind, she waved it off. "I'm sure that you can take care of anyone who tries something against you. Just don't go trying to catch him."

"Weren't you cussing out at the TV this morning because the police couldn't catch him?"

"Well, it's true, they can't. But that's not the point, in the end, they say he only comes out at night, you'll be home by then."

For fuck's sake, he was running out of options here.

Goodbye, my son.

Fuck off my thoughts, fuck off my head. You're dead because I put up a shit fight and you stayed dead because you're a selfish-

He sighed. Today wasn't his day at all. Fucking Kiu. Fucking police who were incompetent at their job. Fucking people who thought it was Mr. Satan who defeated Cell.

Would it be that bad to go to school? If he managed to keep the lie up until now, could he do it for a school year? How hard could it truly be?

He knew already but who cared anyway?

"Fine. I'll go to school and tend my resignation to Mister Abi after tomorrow."

His mom's eyes lit up and Gohan's chest constricted with guilt. But he shook it off, he could pretend for a while that he wasn't a killer, or that he was a lying bastard. Maybe if he pretended long enough, his problems would go away. He could give it a try.

He went to his room after that talk, and instead of finding his bed well-made and just as he left it that morning, he found Goten snoring lightly while hugging his pillow. "What the heck are you doing in my bed?" He asked loud enough for the kid to wake.

Goten was still in a sleepy daze as he stood up, and with luck, he would still be when he went back to sleep in his bed. "Gohan! I thought you were going to sleep at Trunks'!"

His brother sat on the edge of the bed and untied his shoes. "No, I just got carried away with a fight."

"Did you win?"

Gohan chuckled. "I did. I beat his ass so hard that he had to break the rules to 'win'." He took off his dirty shirt and threw it on the laundry basket.

Goten smiled. "Cool, you even got a tattoo!"

Gohan frowned and looked at Goten. Then he remembered the fight and its consequences. The crescent moon brand. He couldn't see it but for what it seemed, it was really visible. "It's not a tattoo, it's something that Vegeta gave me for winning." Yeah, he could've phrased it better.

"Can I get one?"

"No. And do not tell mom about it, now scoot over and tell me why are you in my bed."

Goten gladly moved out of the way as Gohan brought the blankets to his chest, his little brother then decided to lay down on his side. The bed wasn't meant to hold two people, it had already trouble with Gohan, and they were squeezed together a bit too much for anyone's comfort but Goten didn't mind. He liked laying down and putting his head on his brother's chest, it was a calming effect on its own.

"I always do this when you go to sleep at Trunks' house. But mom wakes me up before you arrive."

"Oh."

"How was your day, did you meet the mystery dude?"

Mystery dude? Oh, the vigilante. "I had a rocky day, many customers and a lot of pizzas to make and sadly, no, I didn't see the mystery guy."

Goten frowned, Gohan knew even in the darkness of the room. "Oh, man. You think you will see him?"

"Perhaps, who knows?"

From the angle of the bed, Gohan could see the moon outside his window. He remembered the first time he saw the moon, he was a four-year-old boy who had suddenly been kidnapped by a green demon who told him his father was dead along with that crazy man who proclaimed to be his uncle, and that now he was going to be left to survive for six months with no help. Now that he looked back, it was just the first month that he looked with bad memories, funny enough those times in the wilderness taught him a lot that he used even now, and not to forget he made a long-life friend in them.

But the first night, he felt confused, afraid, hungry, sad but most of all, alone. He wanted his father who just a few hours ago had laughed with him. He didn't remember what happened after he saw the moon but knew he had transformed into that giant ape by Piccolo's stories. The moon had been so big and bright, and beautiful. That night, it had been the first night he had been fatherless.

Thirteen years later, he was looking at the moon again, no transformation going on but still fatherless.

"Hey, Gohan?" Goten whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to school now?"

"Yeah but I still have some time left before that. Tomorrow's my day off."

Goten grunted an 'mmh' as an answer, it would be a matter of time before he dozed off to sleep.

Gohan kept staring at the moon, it looked as bright and beautiful as that fateful night thirteen years ago. And now it would be branded on his skin until otherwise. He sighed melancholically.

"Hey, squirt," he nudged his brother's head. "What about we go fishing tomorrow? We see who catches the biggest fish and you can present me some of your new friends."

"Really? What about your studies?"

"Meh, I'll have whole days to do that after summer ends. So, what do you say?"

"Of course!" He smiled. "Oh, it will be great!"

Thirteen years had gone by and Gohan was still fatherless.

But he wasn't that little four-year-old who held on hope his father would save him.

"Hey, Goten?"

"Mmh?"

"Can you move?"

He didn't and Gohan could only sigh.

"How come you never talk about the Cell Games?"

Gohan's breathing stopped and he shifted to see his brother better. He was nonchalant to what he had asked. "What?"

"I know Mr. Satan didn't defeat Cell, you did but you never talk about it. All I know is dad died that day."

"What's to talk about? Cell was an android who wanted to kill dad and the world, he decided to do a tournament, and we won and he was destroyed. You weren't even born and Trunks was about one."

"It would've been cool to be there."

No, it wouldn't be and with luck, you'll never know what it feels to be there.

"Go to sleep, it's late."

Goten snuggled closer to Gohan and yawned. "How old were you?"

His breath hitched. "Ten."

"You were only a boy," an innocent pause. "Wow, you had an epic fight at ten!"

He could still hear Cell's laugh, his arrogance and the hopelessness he felt when he realized his father's sacrifice had been in vain. He could feel the pain in his left shoulder, the blood running down and the exhaustion, oh, the exhaustion. How badly he wanted to give up, let him win. But the anger that broiled inside him, the rage he felt at the monster who had made his father's sacrifice in vain, the sheer determination in killing him because he would not let that asshole do what he wanted with his world, with the world his father died to protect.

He could hear the waves of energy almost deafen him, the heat of his Kamehameha brushing his fingers and the laughter and shouts of Cell and his friends. The pain, the sadness, the utter feeling of loneliness. He could see his father, looking at him with such pride, genuine pride and his smile, that fucking smile that made you believe it all would be okay. Gohan had given up that moment but his father hadn't, he had decided to sacrifice himself because his son couldn't finish the job.

His father had made him believe it all would be okay for one second. For one instant, Gohan felt that maybe they would all go home, battered and exhausted but they would all go home. Then, his father flashed his smile and talked. But still, even as he said his goodbye Gohan thought his father would still come home with him. If he had just leaned a centimetre forward, then he would've been able to touch him.

But he disappeared and Gohan's hope went with him.

"Yeah," he said but sleep had finally won over Goten. "I was just a boy."

His voice didn't shake as the words left his mouth.