Long ago...

"Did you hear? The god of destruction is dining at the Royal Palace," he said looking at the big infrastructure paling anything else. He had stopped walking to look at it.

The Saiyan male beside him, holding his bag, looked at the palace and then at his friend. He shrugged, indifferent, however, in his eyes-his stern eyes showed small concern. "I did, why else did you think that everyone is acting like we're the most civilised people of the universe?"

His friend frowned, tightening his grip on his bag. "I bet he has the king kneeling like he's some kind of animal," he spat.

"He's more powerful than King Vegeta, he's a god. But our king is no fool, he knows how to treat that divine being," the Saiyan male resumed his walk. "Come on, Riel, we gotta get going."

Riel hesitated for a second before turning to his friend, Bardock. He began walking too. "Doesn't it bother you? To have to act for a damn ingrateful god who kills whoever he seems fit?"

"Perks of being a low-class warrior is that no divine being will ever take interest in me. And he's a god, he can kill whoever he wishes with no opposition."

Riel looked at the Royal Palace once more. "I would like to have a go at that damn stupid 'god', and his stupid angel too. Show them what we Saiyans are made of."

"You wouldn't be a match for him, less his angel. You would die an insignificant death and condemn the rest of us to follow your fate," Bardock said in a sudden serious turn. "What a selfish thought."

"Fucking gods-"

"Shut up," Bardock stopped abruptly. "If by chance they get to hear you, what do you think he will do? He's the god of destruction, his power is beyond any of us, even that damned of Frieza. Do you think a low-class warrior such as yourself will win against a god? It's impossible. All you'll do is get to hell faster than any of us."

"As I've said, the impossible is simply something one has not yet reached, but everything's possible. Even beating a stupid god. They dare judge us, say we're animals and the evil of the universe. But I say the opposite, the gods are the true evil of the universe, unnecessary beings who are only arrogant and serve no real purpose."

"I swear, Riel, you're the most prideful Saiyan I know, and that's saying something. The only reason I tolerate you is that you're a damn good warrior," Bardock sighed, and again, he began walking.

"Whoever made the gods should die. We do not need any 'divine' intervention such as them saying stupid stuff about fate or destiny. You'll see, Bardock, one day a mortal will surpass the level of the gods, and I hope with all my heart, that that mortal shall make them suffer."

Bardock could see the seriousness behind his stupid rants. Riel was always like that, his mouth got him more times in trouble than his body could ever have. Insubordination was something Captain Bardock could not let in his team, worse yet, something no Saiyan should show in front of that ass of Frieza. Either Bardock should begin to distance himself from Riel and let him dig his own grave, or try to change his mind.

"If there's one piece of advice you'll follow from me, be this, shut up. Now come on, Gine will be mad if I show up late."

"And there's the mighty and cold-hearted Captain Bardock, afraid of a female." Riel laughed.

Bardock reddened. "I will gladly shove my foot up to your ass if you don't shut up."

"Pikle should come back in two days, so, I'm a bachelor for two days, something you can't say."

"You still have your son, idiot. And Pikle is not even interested in you."

Riel's face lit up when his friend mentioned his son. His four-year-old son, Cress. "Little dude is getting stronger with every passing day!"

Bardock gruffed. "Then shut up about killing the gods and let's walk faster."

"You know I'm right. And even though you love to say otherwise, you know what's right from what's wrong, and you know that the gods are not the answer to anything, they're useless. Only that you don't dare to say it as freely as I do."

Bardock frowned. With how things were going, the only reason Riel didn't go into a 'righteous' crusade was his son, although for years now he had tried to find a way to get stronger to end Frieza's 'reign of terror'. Bardock was a warrior, a good one, and a good friend too, but he had a duty to his family as well.

Riel was beginning to threaten it.

"He's a fucking god, and you shall respect that. It's just the way of life. Now, let's go, I'm starving."

"Sure, he's the 'god' of destruction, but what is a god to a non-believer?"

Bardock stopped dead in his tracks while Riel began whistling a tune, he passed his friend and gave him a smirk.

What was happening?

It was around twenty-four hours since Gohan had any damn sleep.

And to be honest, it was starting to show.

There were many signs of sleep deprivation, such as mood changes, worsened memory, and perhaps poor decision-making.

Fun fact: it's really hard to bring a baby dragon back to its home when you're running on non-existence energy, and that wasn't the worst of his problems. He had been seen. And not by anyone, oh no, it couldn't be a fucking old man or a woman or whoever except Videl Satan. Oh, yes, Gohan's life was great, fucking great.

He had tried to mask his identity and by the looks of it, he had done well in that department. He had actually pondered for just three seconds if he should kill her, it sounded horrible and it made his stomach churn but he had thought about that. Immediately, he discarded the idea, he might not like her and she might not like him but his killing streak only went to the criminals that plagued the city.

He had enough innocent blood in his hands for more.

Then, Gohan had stupidly tried to save the last of his damn self by hitting her on the neck, rendering her unconscious and then placing her on the couch in the living room, going as far as bringing the gun back to the damn studio or room where she had taken it. All meanwhile he had to take care of a fucking baby dragon. Hopefully, Videl would wake up and think of it all as a bad dream, and if for some reason she found out that the dragon had been taken, her first thought wouldn't be him.

And here he was now, in the middle of fucking nowhere with a baby dragon roaming the grass, while he walked in circles as he smoked with fervor his fourth cigarette and cursing himself.

Great job, fucking idiot, now you've done it. You seriously need to stop acting on impulse.

When was he going to learn?

The effects of sleep deprivation were starting to get to him, his eyelids felt heavy, his movements were slow and sloppy and he was yawning constantly. He wanted to sleep on the damn grass for all it was worth. It was around three in the morning, the sky was still dark and the heat was still bearable. Gohan took a long drag and decided to concentrate on the flavor, the tobacco filling his mouth, burning his palate and bringing a small tingle to his tongue, then, he exhaled and watched the smoke fade in the rest air.

He leaned sideways and almost lost his footing. Fucking great, he was basically useless in the state he was right now. He needed something to bring some sort of energy to him. Would he sleep? Yeah, once it was all over. He couldn't sleep as of now because Gohan knew very well that if he went to sleep right now, he would wake up two days later (if his nightmares were benevolent), and that would draw suspicion from his mother.

Gohan had to also hide the damn baby dragon. If he told Goten he found it and then on the news they said that the vigilante stole a baby dragon, even a seven-year-old would put two and two together and realize it was his older brother who was committing all of those gruesome murders.

He really didn't think this through, huh?

You're a fucking idiot, did you know that?

Yeah, I know. Now, fuck off if you don't have anything useful to say.

He could do blow.

Gohan stopped dead in his tracks, he shook the ash off his cigarette and groaned to himself. He was so sleep-deprived that he had the random thought of doing cocaine as a way to bring himself to be more energetic. What the fuck was wrong with him?

He could say with all sincerity that the only two 'drugs' he used were alcohol and cigarettes. He was a smoker and an occasional drinker, and yes, he had gotten drunk, and it was fucking hard as hell to act sober when thoughts and words were too complex to think of.

A lot of the criminals he killed had blow on them, either in a small bag full of white powder or in injections. Gohan didn't like injections, he didn't fear them such as his father did, but he tried to avoid them if he could. Once, out of curiosity, Gohan had shaken one of the small bags and saw how the white powder moved around. Out of fear that he would get hooked or that he was going to commit something stupid, he threw it away.

Gohan knew himself and he knew he acted a lot of the time on impulse. He didn't like it but that was how it was. And he knew that if he had some damn cocaine with him, it would be a matter of time for him to fuck up and either get caught having it or worse, use it.

He was many things, a manipulator, a liar, a cheat, a coward, an asshole, a horrible son, and a murderer but he wasn't a druggie.

Gohan wasn't there yet.

I need some fucking sleep.

He groaned and took another drag from his cigarette, this one shorter and more desperate. If he didn't find a way to at least function with two percent of his capacity instead of minus sixty percent, he was going to find a criminal, beat him up and take his cocaine and snort it.

Stop thinking about snorting some fucking cocaine, you complete idiot.

He was tired, he was so tired.

Gohan tried to think of something else, although his mind was as logical and awake as someone who had drunk fifteen bottles in one hour. His head went through what happened a few hours ago, the fight with Miss Videl Satan. He didn't expect her to be there, but he couldn't also just walk away. It took him a few threats to find out where the baby dragon was staying, and Gohan wasn't going to let it go simply because his classmates were in that house.

She had gone angry, truly angry at him. It was clear as water the disgust she held especially for him. And the surprise. She fought well for a human, he even speculated that she was stronger than her father, but it hadn't been enough to defeat him. Though she did have the guts to confront him, to defy him even if she knew he could kill her. Gohan respected that.

Perhaps that was what differentiated her from Hercule. She wasn't afraid to fight against stronger enemies. She had conviction.

She also had this smell, one he hadn't picked up until now when he fought her. This smell of-how to describe it? It was a nice smell, not a girly one like Erasa's (though Gohan suspected that was her perfume). It seemed familiar but totally foreign at the same time, yet comfortable, nice and desirable.

It calmed him down. Weirdly enough. But it was a really nice smell. One that he would want to be around more.

His sleep-deprived mind concluded.

I like how she smells.

Then, he lost his balance and almost fell. He had closed his eyes while trying to think of stuff to stay awake, and in doing that, he had begun to fall asleep.

He regained his footing, and then, he got angry. He stomped off his remaining cigarette with anger, cracking the earth beneath him. How stupid he was, how idiotic and arrogant of him to think that this would work! He was a fucking idiot for going for a baby dragon just because his mentor, the closest thing he had to a father, had told him something he hadn't wanted to hear.

And now, he had jeopardized all he had worked for.

Gohan always found ways to fuck even the bad stuff in his life.

"For fuck's sake!" He shouted, knowing no one would hear him except the baby dragon at his right. "I'm such a fucking idiot!"

Suddenly, his chest constricted, his breath hitched and his heart began racing. He felt a wave of dread making its way to his heart and expanding through his chest. Gohan grabbed his shirt, trying to pull loose the fabrics that now seemed to be choking him.

His breathing became labored, with big puffs of air, trying to get oxygen into his lungs with desperation.

I'm such an idiot, they'll know. They'll know I'm the one killing those men. Everyone will know. I'm fucked. I'm really fucked.

His legs began trembling, weak to the thoughts invading his head. But even if his whole body was suddenly becoming weaker, the dread was as strong as it ever was. Panic and fear invaded him in huge waves that hit harder than the previous one.

I fucked up. I don't know what to do. I'm an idiot . I'll never get better. I'm going to die here, I'm going to die in the middle of nowhere.

I can't breathe.

I'm dying.

I can't breathe.

He began pacing. Trying to find some comfort in the forest and baby dragon. But it was to no avail. He was dying and that was that. He tried to pull loose more of his clothing but his hands were shaking with fervor and he didn't measure his strength anymore.

He was powerless to the feelings of dread and panic in him.

I don't want to fight you.

Cell didn't care about that. He didn't care if Gohan didn't want to fight him. All he wanted was the perfect fight, as perfect as he was and as perfect as his father had promised him. Who cared if a stupid boy didn't want to fight him? He was promised a fight and he would get one, no matter the cost, and no matter the methods.

Physically, his body was screaming at him to take a break, it was being pushed to its limits and couldn't go further, however, mentally he was punched by a wave of adrenaline which screamed at him to go-leave wherever he was because he was in danger and he was going to die.

No. For fuck's sake, this night has been shit and it won't be shittier because of a fucking panic attack.

He forced himself to take slow and deep breaths instead of short and shallow ones. Even if his mind was screaming at him that he was dying and he couldn't breathe, he bit his lip as hard as he could, feeling the metallic taste of blood in the tip of his tongue to stop his body from panicking further.

You're not going to die, you fucking idiot. Breathe. You'll be fine, you're always fine. Nothing's going to happen except embarrassing yourself. Breathe slowly.

He bit his lip even harder. You always have to be strong, they can't see you like a fucking idiot, you're not going to die. Breathe.

He had the sudden urge to sink to his knees and cry.

Remember good times, remember those good times.

He remembered when he had fallen asleep while meditating with Mr. Piccolo, it had been after a long training day, and Gohan couldn't help but began to fall asleep. His mentor had brought him to his house and woke him up as they got closer. He hadn't said anything, no scolding or frowning. Only a little demand, that he rest.

It had been nice.

He tried to tap into another happy memory. Perhaps when he went to Bulma's house and spent the whole day stuck in the library with Dr. Briefs' and ended up with a dozen books lined up, fascinated by their subjects. He had accidentally broken four pencils as the doctor explained because of his excitement. He didn't mind, of course, he was happy that Gohan, around fourteen years of age, liked to spend time with an old man.

Goten by that age was already stuck to the hip with Trunks.

Gohan chuckled as he recalled the memory. How Goten giggled at his brother's failure at measuring his strength. While he was red as a tomato.

Or that time when Goten was around a year old. It had been an especially exhausting day for the Sons' and all Gohan wanted was to be left alone. And as his mom was making dinner, Goten had said his first word. 'Fu' which the rest of the family translated to food. Then, suddenly all the tension and exhaustion fell into pieces and they laughed. His mother had commented that he was indeed Goku's son.

Dad.

His father was oddly good at comforting. He had this careless attitude to him, a peppy and genuine innocent attitude to him. Such a caring personality. He didn't always know exactly what to say or what to do but what he did, oddly enough, was enough. His hugs, although rare, seemed to be senzu beans on their own, they had the power to bring you energy.

His whole being irradiated this feeling of peace. That everything was going to be okay, no matter how fucked up it was, it was going to be okay. One knew, especially Gohan, that when his father was around, the end of the world wouldn't even dare touch them.

He was invincible.

Just like that time in the Time Chamber when Gohan couldn't reach the damned Super Saiyan and his father had grabbed him by the arms, looked at him with determined eyes and a loop side smile and said.

I'm proud of calling you my son, Gohan, never forget that. Be confident in yourself, kiddo. You got this!

He didn't, at all.

Gohan fell and began crying. He was no stranger to the action, when he had been a little boy he spent a lot of his time crying. Though as he grew up, and was faced with 'grown-up' situations, he had tried to put a strong face, a strong facade. He wouldn't cry.

However, it seemed even that he fucked up. Terrible loneliness and sadness invaded him, taking the place of the panic and adrenaline. He had seen his mother cried, after the death of his dad, he had seen her cried often. The hopelessness he felt now was exactly the one he felt when facing Cell. Goten cried once in a while, after all, he had been a baby once. It was easy to calm him down though, either with food or the promise of playing.

Gohan had seen a lot of people cry throughout his life. Yet he had never seen his father cry. His father always smiled, though he had gotten to meet him angry, determined, passionate and even enraged. But he didn't recall a time when his father cried.

No, his father was the epitome of strength and endurance. He didn't cry. Even when the odds were not in their favor at all, he never cried. Even when all those people died, he never cried. He was the mighty and honorable Son Goku.

And the rest, simple humans compared to him.

Gohan blamed the sleep deprivation for his current state. He was crying for fuck's sake. He was seventeen years old and he was crying in the middle of nowhere simply because he remembered his father. The sobs were quiet though, and they hurt. Everything hurt. In a childish thought, he wished his father was with him. He would've known what to do. What to say.

How pathetic you are, you're crying.

He was an idiot, in all the sense of the word. How stupid of him to be crying, how weak of him to crumble down in just one week of school.

You'll regret this in the morning, you know you always do. This isn't new at all.

The logical part of his mind was right. He was pathetic, a horrible human and son, and not worth much. And he would very much regret this in the morning, he would be filled with shame and anger at how idiotic and pathetic and weak he was. He knew that.

They all know.

He couldn't hold the tears even if he tried. His whole body shook with his sobs. How low had he sank! There he was, in the middle of nowhere, looking like a damn criminal while suffering from a panic attack and now induced sobbing. It hurt.

He felt lonely. Too lonely.

Get your damn self together. Stop sobbing. You're more than this.

Gohan tried to regain what little dignity and self-control he had left. He started by taking deep breaths, letting the cool morning air get into his lungs. Stopping the urge to cry right in his chest. He brought his left shaking hand to his forehead and touched the fabric on it. His headband. He was far too grown to cry, to feel lonely or sad. There was nothing he could do now, nothing except try to fix his damn error.

He looked at his surroundings, realizing the baby dragon had left him.

That's no problem, you only need an alibi. And some sleep.

That's when he got an idea. The senzu beans. Earth was at peace, it had been that way for seven years, the Z-Fighters hadn't needed senzu beans in all that time. Which meant Korin had some, Gohan didn't need four, not even two, only one. That would restore his energy without the need to go to sleep. He could make an excuse for the wise master, it's not like Korin was too engaged on matters of the world.

Then, he could start thinking about how to solve his damn problem.

Tears were still falling down his cheeks. Though his breathing had gained more control and was less erratic.

His head started to hurt though, pulsing beats of pain resounded in his skull. Could he even fly while sleep-deprived? Once again, Gohan tried to concentrate on the ki around him, the one of Korin. He tried to picture it, try to think himself there, concentrate his ki to reach the one of Korin. No dice, he didn't move an inch. He sighed.

He took one more cigarette from his pack, lit it up with a move of his index finger. He inhaled the smoke. What to do? Would the wise Korin tell Mister Piccolo if Gohan showed in the middle of the night asking for senzu beans? Add to that the fact he smelled heavily of cigarettes and wore an outfit that made him look like a thief. No matter how he lied, anyone with common sense would know something's up.

He did not want him to alert Mister Piccolo, or worse, his mother.

He could wait for the morning to rise and give a bullshit excuse. Then, the cat would not think twice. But that left him with another problem, how to stay awake until seven or eight in the morning? Gohan felt he was too sleep-deprived to go and do some vigilante work, he already fucked up once, he was not going to fuck up again.

He placed the cigarette on his lip, took off his gloves and brought his phone to his hand. It was highly idiotic of him to bring his phone when he was going to rob someone's house but then again, he shouldn't have robbed someone's house. He dialed a number, placed the speaker on his right ear, hoping he would get an answer.

Come on, come on, pick up.

"Hello?"

Gohan let a sigh of relief in the form of cigarette smoke from his lips. "Glen, it's me, Gohan."

In the other line, Gohan could hear the cracks of a mattress. "Gohan? It's three fourteen in the morning, what the hell are you doing up?"

"Are you up to do something? I know it's late but you know, anything? Talk over the phone, or whatever."

"Are you okay?"

Gohan frowned, though he didn't know if it was because of the question or his headache. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You've rarely called me in all the time I've known you, and now you're calling me at three in the morning," a pause. "Does this has to do with that Satan girl?"

"Videl?" It kind of did, but not in the sense Glen thought of. Gohan chuckled. "No, and don't think I forgot about your convo with her about us hooking up."

Glen's usual and cheerful laugh was heard over the line, it had traces of sleepiness though it held the same essence. "What's on your mind? "

"Nothing much," he admitted. "Well, yeah, stuff but, not worth mentioning, you know."

"You sound tired, exhausted more like it."

I am but I need to stay awake. "What did you do today-well, technically yesterday?"

"I worked. From eight to six. Pretty usual, normal, not much to say. Your replacement, though, he's as boring as chalk. Too tensed all the time and he doesn't like my jokes, I'm sure he's going to try to get me fired. But the old man, I don't think he wants to do more interviews so, he sticks with me. The customers are the same, nothing much. How about you?"

"I did my homework, studied I guess, and there was this family dinner I had to attend."

A chuckle. "Oh shit, and how did that go for ya?"

Gohan shook the ash from his cigarette and inhaled the tobacco smoke. "As well as one could expect. They surprisingly left me most of the time in peace. Asked about the school, if I made friends-"

"Which you definitely have, even though it may come as a surprise, I'm sure it was a surprise to them. Was it?"

"I didn't tell them."

There was a huge pause which made Gohan think Glen had hung up before yelling a single word.

"What?"

He had to take the phone off his ear as it damaged his hearing. "Why the fuck you didn't tell them about your friends? You're friends with Videl Satan for fuck's sake, the daughter of the man who saved the world!"

"I have only known them, and her, for a week. We're not exactly friends. They're just people that don't leave me the fuck alone."

"Yeah, sure. And in the fourth day you known them, you invited them to your old job, Gohan."

The Saiyan scoffed as he threw the remaining cigarette to the ground. And sat down. "I didn't invite them, they forced me to invite them. They invited themselves."

"Gohan," Glen sighed. "I know you enough to know that if you don't want to if you truly don't want to do or say something, no one and I mean no one, can force you."

"You would be surprised at the many times I've been forced to do something I don't want to," his friend mumbled. "Solely will doesn't fix all my problems nor it avoids me all I don't want to do."

"You know, if I had started, or finished that psychology degree I would tell you that you've got a lot of bottled down issues, internal ones."

"I don't have a psychology degree and I know that you have some issues because you didn't start that degree."

Another pause. Gohan's head throbbed and he yawned, hopefully, Glen didn't notice.

"Would your seven-year-old self be proud or happy of who you are now?" Glen finally spoke.

"What?"

Gohan could feel the shrug from the other line. "Yeah, you know those questions they give in English or Philosophy or whatever. Like, if you went back ten years, would your seven-year-old self be proud of who you became? I go first if you wish."

"So, would your seven-basically your kid self be proud or not?"

"Honestly, I don't know," he said, and his tone got softer."I like to think that, well, given the circumstances, they would know-or I would know that I tried. I tried to do with what I was given. And even if I didn't accomplish what I wanted, I would be content, I guess. And you?"

Gohan gave a scornful laugh."Absolutely not. My seven-year-old self would be downright horrified and disappointed of who he is ten years later. Not proud or happy about it at all. Hell, I'm not even proud of myself now!"

He would blame it, again, on the sleep deprivation as he continued his rant. "I don't like myself at all. There's nothing to like about me. I mean, what? I'm good at math or science? Computers can do that too. I'm not special. I'm pathetic, actually. I hate myself, I hate who I am, I give up on almost everything, I can't commit to shit, I don't even know what the fuck I'm doing with my life, and I know that but I don't do shit to change it so, I'm a fucking asshole. I'm awful-," he stopped. "Shit, I'm ranting, aren't I?"

"No, it's okay. Though I gotta say, Gohan, even though I didn't finish my psychology degree, I'm sure that you have at least some form of depression."

"I haven't tried to kill myself." Which was true, he had never-surprisingly tried to commit suicide, he had thought about it, planned it once in a while when he was bored, but had never committed to it, he wasn't even consistent in that.

The closest he got to 'killing' himself was that time when he placed the blade of some scissors in his forearm but didn't press on them.

Glen chuckled. "You don't need to be suicidal to have depression."

Gohan shook his head and scoffed. "I don't hate life. I like it very much. There's something beautiful about it. About the world. There's always something good in it. Something positive and happy. Something good about its people. I don't know. Maybe I'm too hopeful about life. But just because I hate mine and I don't think I have anything to offer, it doesn't mean that I hate life. I actually believe fervently that it's a beautiful thing. That, in the end, it's worth it. I'm hopeless about myself, not life in general."

Again, a chuckle. "Well, then, I have never heard a take on depression and life such as yours. Then again, I didn't expect you to call me in the middle of the night either."

"Sorry about that, I just need to stay awake."

"Do I need to know why?"

"Not necessarily. I made a stupid mistake, let my emotions decide and now, I kinda gotta fix it. Or try to mend some of it."

"Son Gohan made a mistake, damn, the world's ending!"

Gohan chuckled and then yawned. "If you think about it, the world has ended like two times, and we're still here. Living. With the same worries and miseries than before."

"Your exhausted self is basically a very philosophical man. Thank you for giving me an existential crisis in the middle of the night."

"That's what you get for trying to get me to hook up with Videl Satan."

Glen snorted. "You need a girlfriend, my dude, you're seventeen and no first kiss! You need game. You need some love, dude."

Love. Gohan knew of love. Unlike some other unfortunate people, he knew what it was to be loved. He was basically adored by his little brother, his mother even if she coddled him too much every once in a while, loved him, and his father even if Gohan could think of the worst things to call him, he knew he had loved him.

Gohan knew also how to love. Or so he thought. That was the part he was highly insecure about. Would he be able to show someone, romantic partner love? How do you do that, in the first place? It seemed tedious and persistent. To love the same way, with the same intensity for how long the relationship lasts. Would he even be good at that? To show someone that he cared about them? With little details? How? Gohan was a pretty private person, or so he tried to be. How to know if the person is it? The one?

Gohan wasn't naive. Love was abstract and subjective. People who seemed in love in their teens fell out of love later on. Which also led to various questions. Does love really exist? If people fall out of love each day, if people who thought they were meant to be weren't, how to know if loved existed? How to know if he wasn't going to fall out of love? Would he even know love? The love of someone as a romantic partner?

No to that specific question. His way of living would make it pretty impossible. He was doomed to be a vessel to justice, or what he thought could be justice until his death. Because of a stupid accident-because of a mistake. No one would ever get close to him. He would have no sons or daughters nor a wife to go home to.

Son Gohan would never find love.

And yet tragically, and highly ironically, he still believed in it.

Dad loved Mom yet it wasn't enough for him to stay. Dad loved me, he believed in me. I loved him. And he stayed dead.

Love isn't enough.

And that's what he was highly afraid of. He didn't deserve to be loved.

"Gohan? Gohan? Are you there? Or did you fall asleep? Or are you day-or is it night? Dreaming about Videl and yourself?"

Gohan snapped out of his thoughts and placed his attention on the caller on the other side of the line. "Sorry, no, I'm here. And I'm not dreaming about Videl. I certainly know I'm not cut out for love and dating and shit like that."

"Are you fucking kidding me? You're a fucking poet, you're considerate, you're not that bad looking, you are thoughtful, and more shit like that and you think you're not cut out for love? A fucking quarter of our customers left when you did! Gohan, you can get whatever girl you want."

"That's just another way of saying I can fuck people. Basically just have sex with every girl that wants me. That's not love, it's lust."

Glen scoffed. "And not only you're considerate and helpful and thoughtful but you're also a romantic! By god, you idiot, how do you think that you're not cut out for love!"

Who would love a murderer? I kill people, every day almost and I never regret it. Do I deserve love? "I just don't want to, alright? Would that be bad? I mean, people do it every day nowadays. Some people are cut out for love and some decide to be alone. Is that bad?"

"Of course not, if that's what you truly want. If you really, really believe that, then no problem. But I don't think that's what you want, Gohan."

He frowned. "Scientifically speaking, Glen, no human being likes being alone. We need social interactions to survive."

"Don't bring science into this because that's a whole other thing. This is emotional, something you heavily lack once in a while."

There was no reply.

"You know what I think? Even if I didn't finish or even started that psychology degree, I think that your problem is that you're afraid of letting people get close to you, that's why you didn't tell your family about those three rich kids, and why you think you're not cut out for love."

"That's one way to see it," Gohan muttered.

"What would the other way to see it be?"

"That I'm simply not cut out for love, and that's not bad."

Glen sighed exasperatedly. Then, silent for a moment.

"I did not come from loving parents, I mean, they loved me but did they love each other? No, hell no. My father was a workaholic asshole who liked to verbally abuse my mother and once in a while me. I remember we had to hide the stuff we bought in fear he would shout at us that it was expensive. My mother tried to be nice but then she fell into the vice of getting revenge from my father. And they fought, a lot."

"There came a time in my life that they only fought. They never said one kind word to each other. And usually, their fights involved me, either as a spectator or a witness. I remember my father screaming at my mother not to involve me. I wasn't surprised, it had been like that all my life. I hated my father with all my heart or tried to. He was an asshole and verbally abusive to my mother but he tried to be nice to me, he tried. And I always felt conflicted whenever I thought he wasn't such a bad person, because, yeah he was my father but he was also an asshole. And how to differentiate, right?"

"Right."

"When I was twelve, I learned that my mother had been raped when she was a kid, by her cousin. She had been barely seven. I don't know if you could say that was traumatizing for me but it was definitely a shock because my mother was the happiest and cheerful person I knew. She didn't seem like a rape victim, well, not like those on TV anyways." A pause.

"I'm so sorry, Glen-"

"I was fifteen, and I was in the living room with my parents while they fought again, this time over me. I wasn't eating properly and for some reason, they decided to get into deep stuff. I was doing my fair share of fighting too, screaming at them how I hated my life, myself and their fights. They started shifting the blame to each other. And then, my father, in a fit of anger, screams at my mother that he had been raped as well when he was twelve. It wasn't news for her, but for me, it was like the whole earth crumbled."

He laughed but his laugh was a bitter one. "Imagine my surprise, not only one but both of my parents had been raped. What does a fucking fifteen years old make of it? I didn't know what to do. I had the urge to cry. I didn't. Instead, I cried in the night when they were asleep. Now, I understood my father. He had been raped and hadn't processed the trauma well, but did that justify his actions? What the fuck was I supposed to do with that information? How the fuck was I supposed to feel? Both of them had been raped and here I was, with no trauma, being an asshole myself. I believed I should die for years afterwards."

"That must have been hard, I'm sorry-"

"Gohan, I'm not here to tell you I'm the healthiest man in the world but, it's okay to let people get close to you. You have friends, you don't need to tell them your life story but, start somewhere. Not everyone is going to hurt you. I learned that. You can as well. Why are you so afraid of change? Almost as if you're afraid of living."

There was a huge pause. Gohan looked down, at the grass, and felt the burning emotion of anger cutting through him. He wasn't afraid of living, nor change. Glen had no fucking idea what he was talking about.

"I'm not afraid of change. Ever since I was four years old, all I had was change. And I'm not afraid of living, here am I, living. Simply because I don't fit your standards on what should be 'living' doesn't mean that I'm not doing it."

"That's bullshit," Glen chuckled. "Someone as smart as you can see that this, whatever you're doing, isn't living. Don't bullshit yourself or me."

Silence. Gohan's jaw tensed and the grip on his phone tensed. Such a bold statement coming from someone who couldn't help himself even if he wanted to.

"I didn't call you to psychoanalyse me."

"Then why did you call? It's the fucking four in the morning! Because you need to stay awake to fix a mistake you've made? What kind of mistake did you commit that's forcing you to stay awake through the night?"

Gohan chuckled as his free hand played with the grass and he looked at the outfit he wore, he looked like a criminal, and to Glen and the rest of that stupid Satan City, he was. "A bad one, a real bad one."

Suddenly, Glen's tone got soft and serious. "You need help, Gohan."

"Yeah, well, I'll get it but I just need to stay awake-"

"Not that kind of help," a sigh. "I don't know what kind of shit you got into that's forcing you to stay up, and I won't force you to tell me, but Gohan, you cannot go on like this. Get some help, dude."

There it was, the pity that everyone felt for him. Even Glen pitied him, which was saying something because Glen wasn't that far off him. It angered him. He didn't need anyone's pity, not Mister Piccolo's, those idiots at school, not even his father's. The only one who didn't pity him was that stupid prideful prince, he treated him like shit but at least he never cared about what he did, or who he was. He left him alone.

None of them understood, they didn't understand that he needed to do it. He needed to kill those people. He had to do it. He had closed any window for a normal life months ago, and he accepted that. The rest didn't. The rest, people like his mother or his father's friends, still held unto that stupid hope that Gohan was the same little four-year-old boy who didn't know better.

But he did know better. He knew that all his life, he was never more than what people wanted him to be. His father wanted a fighter, so, he got a fighter, the best one. His mother wanted a scholar, and she did, she got the son with the best grades in the province.

But where were his dreams, what he wanted to be? His whole life had been dictated by the wishes of others that he didn't know what to be. The only decision he had made by himself was to become a murderer.

So? So, what if Gohan was ruining his life? So, what if he was slowly killing himself? It didn't matter. So, what if he thought life would be better off without him? That maybe the best thing he could do was simply kill himself? He wouldn't do it, he would think about it, plan it, and then realize he was a piece of shit who sought attention. So, he was an asshole. He deserved to die. But at least, if he was going to die, he would kill people who also deserved it.

They all should let him ruining his life, let him be, let him kill the bad guys, wasn't that what they wanted?

No, they wanted a hero. Not an idiot who killed gnarly, they wanted the perfect ideal, everything they wished to be. They wanted his father. But he wasn't his father, he fell short to him, instead, he was a coward who hid in the shadows. Just like that woman said in apartment 4A.

His father was the ideal but Gohan was the reality.

"Gohan? Gohan, are you there? Are you mad-"

"No," his voice rang out. "I'm not mad. You have the right to be worried. And I shouldn't have called you so early in the morning, that was my fault."

Stop playing the victim, you fucking asshole. You're a fucking attention seeker.

He cleared his throat in hopes his thoughts left him alone. Instead, the sudden urge to cry constricted his chest and his eyes began to water.

"Gohan, I worry because you're my friend, if you needed to call, then you can always call me. Just-please, get some help."

Who would-who could help him? If it wasn't for Goten and his mom, Gohan would've already killed himself. Without them, he had no purpose, no reason to go on living.

Not that he had one now, but he had a job that kept him occupied.

He wasn't going to be a burden to his family. He wasn't going to be the crazy, mentally unstable family member. He had to be strong, he was strong. And he would continue being. Until he either came out victorious or it killed him.

Sleep was slowly winning on him, even if he tried to keep his as wide as he could open them. Was this actual exhaustion? Or was he simply faking it?

Where is the ten-year-old who knew exactly who he was? Who knew what to do?

Where was the man who killed Cell?

He sighed.

"I'll let you sleep, Glen. I've kept you long enough, I can stay up on my own," he said, his tone soft and sorrowful.

"Gohan-"

And he hung up.

Gohan scoffed. He needed 'help'? Glen had made it sound as he didn't know he needed it, as if it was a huge revelation. Poor fool, he believed Gohan was that naive. But he wasn't, he was quite the opposite. He knew he needed some sort of psychological analysis of his brain, he wasn't an idiot. But he wasn't going to get any of that, if he got himself killed, well that was that.

It wasn't the first time someone offered him help. His mother and Bulma had done so years ago, back when he was eleven. Decided there was something odd about him, something he shouldn't be feeling. Panic attacks every day, inexplicable fear of the unknown, suicidal ideation, nightmares, etc. It came to a point where he woke up every night at ungodly hours with a panic attack. It also left him with mild phonophobia.

Even all those meditation sessions he had with Mister Piccolo didn't work. All that seemed to bring him a small escape was his training, so he went really into it, pain would mask all the other emotions. But his mother had decided against it, that it wasn't healthy. So, she went with Bulma who got him antidepressants and therapy. Gohan never went to therapy, hell no. He managed to escape that one. Sadly, he had to take the antidepressants.

Oddly enough, they worked magnifically the first month. He felt happy, with a purpose and the panic attacks weren't that often. He had peace. However, they stopped working around the end of the second month. He started feeling like shit again, and his bad thoughts came back. Though he never told his mother. He didn't want more attention than needed around his mental health.

And now here he was, in the middle of nowhere at an ungodly hour as a vigilante.

He observed the woods, the sleepiness winning ground every few seconds, they were nice, even if he could barely see them. The silence was welcoming, only the buzz of insects and a few rustles of leaves here and there. As much as he hated to admit it, he wanted so badly to give up. Just stop. Go to sleep and never wake up, or perhaps stay in his room for all eternity.

It would be nice, wouldn't it be? To finally rest. His father had done so, he had decided the world had had enough of him and went to rest-or what he thought would be rest.

He laid on the hard ground, yawning. It wouldn't be bad if he closed his eyes, right? So, what if he fell asleep? Did it matter anymore? Videl Satan would never let him go after the stupid shit he did, he would be downright hunted. He sighed once more, looking at the woods, it would be amazing to just disappear, leave the city, change his name and live another life.

Free of everything.

He could walk away, right here and right now. But would he rest? No. Son Gohan was a liar, a manipulator, a huge asshole and a poor fool but he kept his promises. And he had promised people stuff, and he would continue living until he fulfilled them.

He remembered Vegeta once told him something about the Saiyan race, back when Gohan was fourteen and feeling like shit. The prideful prince knew of trauma and growing up before your time, although he never admitted it or categorized it as such.

The Saiyan race wasn't just a great warrior race because we fought well, it was also because of one thing. Our endurance. Even when there's nothing to hold onto, we endure. That's our damn Saiyan pride, boy, our endurance. That stupid Frieza destroyed our planet, genocide our race and yet here we are, surviving while he's dead.

You're a Saiyan, whether you like it or not, and you shall endure.

He would endure. Even if it killed him. He wouldn't back down, not anymore. He could do this.

I'm pathetic, idiotic and a poor excuse for a person. I probably don't even deserve to live.

But I won't give up.

He still had many things to do, many people to bring justice to. His mother and brother still needed him. He wasn't going to leave them, he wasn't going to disappear simply because of his selfish needs. He wasn't going to be his father.

He would endure, endure the lack of sleep, the lack of happiness, of mental stability. And he would do his duty, even if the whole city was against him, even if that stupid girl decided to chase him, he didn't care if it costed his friendships, or if it left him alone.

He would endure. He had gone too far, walked too much to give up now. If he had endured getting kidnapped, getting his neck broken, fighting with aliens and murder androids, then he would continue enduring.

Gohan was many things, but a hero wasn't one of them. Yet, he would try to help, try to make the life of others more bearable. He would get justice for everyone, even himself.

He was going to befriend those two blonde idiots, he was going to get Videl Satan to talk about the police's investigation of the vigilante, he was going to keep doing his job, and for the love of all he cared about, he was going to endure.

A long time ago, he had promised someone that he would protect that he learned to love, and he owned it that much. He couldn't back up now.

He got up drowsily, the sleepiness still clinging unto him. He was smart, he knew there was no way in hell that he could wait until seven in the morning to go to Korin's tower. He would fall asleep before that, and he couldn't call Glen again, and no way in hell he was going to call those dumbasses from school.

So, how the fuck was he going to manage to stay awake? He had to change of plans.

Suddenly, Gohan felt something wet run through his upper lip. He sighed already knowing what it was. He placed his index finger on his lip and pressed lightly. Then, he pulled apart and even if there was barely any light, he knew what it was. Blood. He chuckled. Fucking nosebleeds. It hadn't even been a week.

Who could he go to? Who wouldn't ask any questions and would help him? Someone who didn't care what or why he was doing what he was doing but was decent enough to find a solution to his problem.

Vegeta, perhaps. Maybe if I asked for a spar, then if I end up asleep, it wouldn't be my ass.

But that had risks of their own, especially going to West City. Gohan had barely the energy to keep himself standing, he did not know if he could fly. And would his eyes be red? He didn't want the prince of all assholes to see that he had been crying but what other choice did he have?

He wiped the oozing blood from his nose.

It was better than nothing.

Please, let something right happen today. And to believe I killed some stupid lawyer this morning, it feels like an eternity.

Maybe he was self-destructive after all.

"This is getting bad."

"Yeah, I suppose it is."

"It's only a matter of time until the high-ups get involved."

"Oh, and that would definitely be bad."

"You know, maybe it's time you tell him. Not the whole truth, who knows how he would take it, but, at least something."

King Kai's face soured quickly and he began playing with his hands nervously when the Grand Kai had announced a meeting with the four kais, he hadn't expected this. "With all due respect, sir, but would that be wise? The dead cannot intervene in worldly matters."

Grand Kai caressed his beard and even with his sunglasses, one could see the worry and indecision in his eyes. But before he could say his thoughts, South Kai beat him to it.

"He's a menace to the Earth, to us! It's better if higher powers deal with him. Before we know it, he's going to become the very thing he swore to destroy, he should be deal with as quickly as possible. We shouldn't even think about it."

King Kai sent his most threatening look along with a touch of disgust. "You better shut up, and never say that again."

"Come and make me-"

"King Kai is right, we must be careful with our words. Son Goku might not be interested in his family right now, but if rumors get out that we're thinking of killing his son, then I'm sure he will do something, something rash," Grand Kai cleared his throat. "Though I agree that this cannot escalate any longer, there must be another alternative."

Every kai frowned, trying to think of a solution. Son Gohan's actions had sparked the interest of King Yemma as more and more souls made their way to his reception, however, it was until the ogre, fearing another problem (and annoyed at the paperwork accumulated) asked Baba to find out who was behind the killings on Earth. It came as a surprise to all when the one responsible was none other than the savior of earth, and Son Goku's son.

"The root of all this seems to have something to do with his father, right?" East Kai spoke.

King Kai nodded. "Indeed. He hasn't moved on from his father's departure."

East Kai smiled. "Then, the solution is simple, we must give him closure."

The kais looked surprised. And slightly confused. "What do you mean?" Inquired King Kai.

"If we give Son Gohan a chance to get proper closure with his father, maybe he'll stop this killing nonsense. Son Goku has saved the galaxy too many times, we can allow him to step foot on Earth for this, and perhaps he will reason with his son."

Grand Kai grunted in ponderation.

"If we tell Goku about it, and he tells his son, then it's probable that his son believes his father came simply to make him stop, not because he wanted to see him. It would be foolish. And a day wouldn't be enough. We need Son Goku to be genuine about his visit and give him more time."

King Kai sighed defeated. He took his handkerchief and wiped the sweat off his temples. "A week, that seems enough time. If Son Gohan gets too attached to his father just for him to leave again, then, we go back to square one."

South Kai looked at his enemy, he couldn't forget the halo hovering above him. Son Goku's doing. "Does Goku know about his second son?"

"Not at all. Goku has not asked about his family in all the time he's been here, he still believes staying dead is the best thing he could've done. He has moved on completely."

"Moving on does not mean forgetting," Grand Kai stated. "Tell him about his family, do it naturally, in conversations and all. He cares about them, sooner or later, he will get the idea of visiting them."

West Kai scoffed. "What if he doesn't? What if he takes too long because we all know how idiotic that man is, and by the time he thinks of visiting them, is too late? What then?"

"May I remind you all that Gohan saved the Earth? And that he has not killed a single innocent person in this crusade? He is confused, but he's still the same kid who loved life and humanity," King Kai spat against the kais.

South Kai laughed. "I highly doubt that. And even your words are not entirely true. He killed two innocent people nine months ago. Isn't that the whole reason he started doing this? Why he wears that stupid headband?"

"That was an accident. We all know he would never do it on purpose!"

"Whatever, he is a menace, and if we don't do something soon, then we might regret it. The human police are highly incompetent in catching him, and he's extremely powerful, if he turns, not even his father might win against him."

Grand Kai took off his sunglasses. "He's the son of one of the greatest warriors of this universe, we will go with the plan East Kai suggested, if King Kai believes he's still good, then I'll give him the benefit of the doubt."

South Kai looked indignant and tried to protest. "But, sir, what it-"

"To be honest, it doesn't seem Son Gohan has been in contact with anyone that could corrupt him, what more can go wrong?"

"I'm getting restless. How much longer do I have to stay here?"

"I do not know, but you will be set free soon, that much I can feel."

A scoff. "What a fucking help you are. But that's not good enough."

"Still impatient as always, don't worry, you have been trapped here for decades, a few more days or weeks won't hurt."

"I was asleep for most of that."

The voice laughed and he felt annoyed and slightly angered by the joy in it. "If you're that impatient, then go ahead and try getting out of your chains, I guess."

"You know I can't."

"I remember you saying the same thing long ago, and what happened when you did?"

A long pause. "I won."

"Exactly, come on now, you don't want to prove Bardock wrong?"

The chains jerked forward when he heard that name. And a snarl followed by a growl was heard in the space. "Don't talk about that betrayer. I'm still here, and he's not. And that's the truth."

"Then go ahead, free yourself."

He contemplated those words. He looked around but he couldn't see anything, he was in the dark completely, eaten by it. That unnerved him, he wanted more, he wanted to be free. To be able to see.

"You know, I might just do that."