REASON
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z or any of the Dragonball Z characters or concepts. They belong to Akira Toriyama. I am not making any money off posting this.
Chapter 8: Revised Chance
Beep! Beep! Beep! The quiet noise filled the air, unnoticed by Bulma. She muttered slightly in her sleep before her breath became slow and even once more. Still the machine persisted, indicating its completion. Bulma took in a huge breath and slowly lifted her head several inches away from the desk. Her hair was dishevelled and hung over her face. Running a hand over her face Bulma pushed the hair from her eyes and finally recognised what had brought her from her deep but troubled slumber. Pushing on the desk several more papers fell to the floor and were crushed under her feet as she approached the machine. Bulma bent over to remove the phial of opaque white liquid and held it up to the light, swirling it as she did so. She indulged in a bright smile before dashing back off to the others.
"I've got it!" Bulma yelled as she skidded in the doorway. The liquid ran up the side of the phial, threatening to spill so Bulma wisely slowed her pace. She started to draw some of the liquid into a syringe holding it up to the light as she did so, scrutinising for any trace of yellow. She laid the syringe down on the table next to her and started to draw another when Videl lay a gentle hand on Bulma's wrist. Bulma looked up, curious as to Videls motivations.
"Bulma, are you sure that this isn't going to kill them?" There was a pleading look in her eyes, the fear of a wife that she may lose her husband.
Bulma smiled sympathetically, trying to look confident. She knew what Videl meant, she could understand it perfectly as she had just gone through a similar experience. The sight of a proud and strong warrior brought to his knees so easily was engraved in her mind, melting with the past forming an inevitable reality. While she was sure that she held a cure in her hand it could just as easily be poison. Bulma was torn between her promise to Gohan and her duty to Videl. Gohan didn't want Videl to be scared, or worried. Videl didn't want Gohan to be involved in all these wars. If only we could get what we want. 'Sorry Gohan,' she thought. "I don't know for sure, Videl, I can't be sure, but its the best chance we've got."
Videl looked back, unaware of the torment that Bulma had just gone through, but nodded wisely. She knew that there was no way to be certain and that they would just have to take a gamble. Her next words surprised Bulma though, something she never thought Videl was strong enough to utter. "Can you start with Gohan?"
Bulma wondered if Videl had overheard the conversation that had taken place earlier with Gohan. Deciding to test her theory she eyed Videls face watching for any waver in her conviction, "Why?"
Videl thought for a second, wondering how she could explain her gut feeling to Bulma. "Because that is how he would want it. He's not as far into the symptoms as Goku and Vegeta so he's more likely to survive if you are wrong. He is your best bet and you know it."
Bulma wondered if she should be relieved. Not waiting for her mind to give her an answer she finished drawing up the other syringes of liquid and grabbed three needles. She took Gohans arm and raised it slightly and bit down on the needle cover, pulling it off with her teeth. Just before she pushed the needle into the skin she looked up at the others who had silently gathered around. Chichi stared blankly as did Chaotzu, but Videl smiled at Bulma, giving her all the encouragement she needed and Bulma returned her attention to Gohans arm before giving the needle a quick thrust, breaking the skin. She pressed down, waiting for the liquid to merge with Gohans blood stream and watched for any signs of trouble.
Over half a minute passed before the silence was broken by Chichi who could no longer contain her worry. "Is he going to be OK?" she asked, her voice almost cracking. To her credit she had not fainted nor had she broken out into hysterical tears, but after knowing her for so long, Bulma knew that she was not far off.
Bulma kept her eyes on the computer screen beside Gohan, "I think so. If anything was going to wrong then I think it would have happened by now." Bulma traced a line moving up the screen with her finger, "Look, already its taking effect."
Although there was no tumultuous uproar, the sense of joy in the room was overwhelming. From the darkness there seemed to be a glimmer of hope emerging. Videl didn't waste any time in taking up Gohans hand and sitting at his side once more, trying to coerce him into consciousness. Bulma kept her eye on Gohan's statistics for a second more before returning her attention to the others. "I think he'll be fine. In fact, I don't imagine it will be long before he comes around." This news was too much for Chichi who ran up to her son with a sound that was half laugh and half sob. She proceeded to push Bulma out of the way and started to weep on Gohan's shoulder. It almost struck Videl as strange that even after all these battles Chichi never got used to seeing her son or husband hurt. Although completely overwhelmed by a torrent of emotions herself, Videl managed to take it in her stride and continued her quiet vigil. It was not long before she became oblivious to Chichi's distant sobs and pleas.
Bulma looked in wonder at the spectacle. She knew that when Vegeta was cured there would be no such greeting. It pained her to see what Vegeta was locking away from himself, but she could understand that his troubled past made such things hard. She looked over at him, it would be impossible to mistake him as sleeping. His skin had lost its robust colour and darkness was beginning to set in the soft skin just beneath his eyes. She walked over to his bedside, rubbing her hand over his forehead before tracing it down his arm, her fingers so used to the strong contours of the muscles that lay beneath. She twisted his arm and brought the needle up to her mouth and removed the cap.
"Bulma," Chaotzu called out. He had been watching her since she'd left Gohan's bedside. "Are you sure you should be doing that?"
Bulma knew what Chaotzu was implying and chose to ignore his protests. Gohan seemed fine and there was no indication that the cure was doing any harm.
Chaotzu had attracted Bulma a little unwanted attention though. She found Chichi and Videl's eyes resting on her, focussed on the needle in her hand. Videl gave a reproaching stare and asked gently, "Bulma, don't you think you should wait to see if Gohan pulls through?" She paused momentarily before quickly adding, "I know he will," and then thoughtfully finished, "but just to be on the safe side..."
Bulma looked at Chichi, wishing that she would somehow condone her actions, but there was no such comments offered. "OK," Bulma muttered quietly and carefully replaced the cap on the needle. Her eyes flicked to Gohan, willing him to open his eyes. With no such luck Bulma returned to the seat that sat at Vegeta's side. 'There is so much to be said,' Bulma thought. 'But you'll never know, or maybe just never care.'
Gohan shifted in his bed, a small groan escaping. Bulma's head darted upward and she rose quickly from her seat to stand at Gohans side. Chichi reluctantly moved aside to give Bulma better access to her son. Gohan groaned once more and began to grind his head into the pillow.
"Come on, Gohan. Open your eyes. Its me Videl."
"Mmm, Videl?" Gohan muttered, his voice barely audible and cracking. He opened one eye a small way, not yet willing to greet the conscious world.
That was enough for Videl and Chichi though. Bulma was thrust aside and the two women happily greeted him. Gohan's eyes were forced open in shock. He smiled at his mother and wife before passing a silent eye towards Bulma, thanking her in his own way. She gave him a weak smile causing him to wonder exactly what had gone on while he was unconscious.
"How's Dad?" Gohan asked weakly.
Bulma was snapped rudely back into reality, reminded of her task. Bulma nodded towards Goku's bed and said, "He's OK. We have not yet given him the cure yet."
Gohan said nothing. He knew what Bulma meant and why she had not yet given his father the cure, he was the lab rat, just as he had requested.
Bulma continued, "So how do you feel?"
"Great," Gohan replied with a certain air of sarcasm. "I'm fine though, really. I'm just feeling a little weak. But first, where is Goten? Is he alright too?" It was as if Gohan had only just remembered his brother and in fact he almost had. His brain was still clouded and his body felt so tired. Nothing was working as fast as it should.
Chichi was the first to say anything. "Goten is out there," she said waving a hand outwards. "He's fighting the androids."
With that Gohan began to pull the covers off himself and try to clamber out of the bed. Videl moved to stop him, but he shot her daggers. "I'm going," he stated. "Goten and Trunks can't take care of this alone. They are going to need some experienced fighters out there."
"Gohan, you are in no condition to fight. Goten, Trunks, Piccolo, Yamcha, Tien, Krillen and Juuhachigou are all out there. They can handle it. Live first, then fight. If you go out there now you will be killed and probably get others killed trying to save you." Bulma knew exactly what buttons to press with Gohan. It came with watching him grow up.
Gohan looked at Bulma indecisively. Her words made sense but he couldn't sit in a bed while his brother was out there dying. In those seconds he began to pick up on the power signals being emitted from the war raging outside and he didn't like it at all. Goten's power was way down and soon he'd drop out of Super Saiyan. That was all the reason Gohan needed, there was no alternative in his eyes. "No, I can't stay here, I have to go." Gohan replied, a little more sedated as if he no longer believed the words himself. Still, as if to emphasise his words he continued his struggle from the bed. He placed his feet on the cold tiles and steadied himself with a hand on the bed and promptly crumpled to the floor.
This time Videl did rush up to him and wrapped his arm around her shoulders easing him back onto the bed. Videl crouched down so that she was looking up at Gohan. For a second they staying in that pose, neither moving.
"You know that there is no way you can fight when you are like this. I know its hard, but you'll only get in the way." It was an undeniable truth and one they were both keenly aware of, yet still Gohan refused to accept it.
Gohan lifted his head slightly and Videl could see the torture in his eyes. "He's my brother..." Gohan started, not really sure what to say. He hated this feeling of helplessness. He had worked so hard to avoid ever experiencing it again and he still ended up here.
Videl continued to look Gohan in the eye, silently pleading him to rest. Gohan gave a resigned sigh, "Alright, just until I get my strength back though." Videl smiled and attempted to push Gohan back down onto the bed, but instead he sat up, cross-legged with his hands on his calves and went into a meditative state to gather his energy.
Taking this as a signal to leave Gohan for a while Bulma returned to her husbands side, needle in hand. In one swift movement she had the needle embedded in Vegeta's arm. Taking only a second to press on the prick wound she smiled a small smile to herself, knowing that it would be over soon. Although she knew that there was still a mighty struggle that lay ahead, she had done her part and her work would be done. Bulma then repeated this procedure on Goku and flopped into a chair, resting her weary eyes for just a second.
*
This could not continue, there had to be something that she could do. Trina had spent her time running arguments through and through her head until it ached. She knew that she couldn't live with this though. She could not survive knowing that she had been an accessory to murder. That is what it was, a cold-blooded murder, no matter what the reasons were – they weren't real reasons, they were pathetic attempts to justify killing another being. Above all people, she had to live with herself and the only way to do that was to stop this massacre. Frustrated and tired screams rung out from the battlefield making severe imprints in her mind and Trina knew that they would never fade. They were the type of thing that would haunt her consciousness forever, even in her dreams. Trina had never been a fighter, she had never been a strong person, she had always been protected from the harsh realities of life. That is why she knew she had to do something, for herself and maybe for Mike too. He was trapped, sucked in by the elegant myths despite the fact that they were incongruent with humanity. The only question that remained was how, how could she possibly hope to overcome such a powerful might. Although using science rather than brute force had worked in most situations, she got the distinct feeling that this was not one of them.
At school Trina had not been a model student, but she was certainly smart. Knowing that against these power giants science was really her only chance she thought back to what Mike had told her about the androids. It was true that he had seen too much, but she could use that to her advantage...somehow. Then she remember something Mike had muttered just before her silencing him with a engrossing kiss. At the time she had been so afraid of someone hearing and would have done anything to shut him up, but now she wished he had let him talk. She may not know as much as she'd like to, but it would have to be enough. After all, her life was all about creating something from nothing.
Quietly a plan began to form.
*
"Androids?!" Vegeta shrieked, his voice suddenly finding new strength. "Whu...what?"
Every pair of eyes in the room, other than Goku's of course, suddenly set on Vegeta with concern, fear and worry engraved in them. "Vegeta...don't you remember?" Bulma asked softly.
Vegeta continued to stare blankly, waiting for an explanation. When none came he began to grow irritated, as well as he could when drained of energy. "Is anyone going to tell me what's going on? I thought that..." A look of recognition washed over Vegeta's face and he sat quietly for a second before suddenly forcing his face into a scowl of determination. "I remember," he declared, his voice low and dangerous. "Something attacked Kakkarot. An android wasn't it?"
"Yes" came the calm voice from across the room. Everyone turned around to see Gohan standing behind the crowd, decked out in his training gear once more.
"Gohan?" Videl asked, seeing no need to complete the question.
"I'm fine, really. I've got my strength back, now I just need to get out there and help Goten, Piccolo and all the others." Gohan's voice had returned to its normal pitch and he looked as though he had recovered. Bulma, having plenty of experience with such acts, walked over to him and started to give him a thorough inspection. Gohan took her shoulders in hand and gently pushed her aside, "I'm fine, really." With that he walked out the door and turned down the hallway.
"Gohan," Bulma called out.
Gohan peered back around the door. "Yeah, other way, right," and began to walk through the corridor in the other direction.
Chichi looked as if she were about to say something but the stream of consciousness was interrupted by a low groan. "Goku!" Chichi cried, returning her attention fully to her husband. Goku shifted slightly in his bed, writhing and pushing the sheets off him. With a start he sat up in the bed to be greeted by several faces smiling back at him and one scowl.
"Hi guys."
Chichi had a huge grin spreading across her face and she was at Goku's bed within seconds with her arms wrapped around him. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but they were tears of relief. After all the waiting it seemed a huge burden had been lifted. Goku put his arms up to comfort Chichi and this brought new strength to Chichis racking sobs that were shaking the bed.
Vegeta crossed his arms and looked away, trying to appear disgusted by the scene. Although he wouldn't approve of Bulma blubbering all over him, he had expected some form of reaction...maybe even anger. What he hadn't expected was Bulmas complete indifference. He could faintly recall the argument that he had had with her before leaving to find Kakkarot, but it seemed like so long ago. Besides, when Bulma was angry, normally one would know it – silence just wasn't her thing. Something was up and he knew it, only his pride wouldn't allow him to enquire further.
"Its alright, Chichi. I'm OK now."
Chichi lifted her head to look at him, wiping the tears from her eyes with a trembling hand. "Oh, I was so worried about you...and Gohan."
The statement caused Goku to crinkle his head in concentration. He tipped his head and looked at the others, "Where is Gohan? Is he alright?" Although he trusted his son's ability to defend himself, he knew whatever had happened to him was far too quick to fight against, unless one was prepared for it.
Although the faces surrounding him were grim, they were not downright depressed, reassuring Goku a little. "He's fine..." Chichi stopped and looked down, wondering how much Goku needed to know right now. Looking up to face her husband again she found him swaying out the door. "Goku."
He cringed visibly. Much to her surprise though when Goku turned around he did not have an embarrassed look on his face. Rather it was set in hard lines, his mind clearly so focussed on what lay before him he had barely noticed the fact that his body was well beyond being recovered.
"Goku, come back. You need to rest a little longer at least." Chichi let her tone soften.
Goku stood there for a second, obviously trying to decide what to do. The words made sense and he was keenly aware of the trauma his body had been through. "I've fought with worse," he replied. He offered a brief and weak smile before continuing his shaky path out the door.
Seconds later a heavy thud could be heard outside. Everyone looked knowingly around the room. To their surprise however it was Vegeta who left, returning with the dead weight. Vegeta unceremoniously tossed Goku back onto his bed, wishing that his rival wasn't always so stubborn. In the time spent discussing the weather Vegeta had been concentrating on getting back into a state fit to fight...and he was almost there. After all, he was the Prince of Saiyans, he wasn't about to miss a fight.
*
Goten could feel his insides squirming beneath the pressure. His cracked and broken ribs pressed into his lungs which cried out for air. He could feel his energy draining quickly and he knew that his resources would be depleted long before an ending was within reach. As much as he despised being put in his brothers shadow he was grateful for the security. He knew that whenever he fell Gohan or his father would be there ready to back him up...as long as they were alive to do so. In the innocent mind there was no doubt that his family would come and save him when it got too rough and too long for him to manage, but the wiser part of him knew that somehow, in the future (or was it the past now) his father had been killed by nothing more than what he was fighting now.
Trunks looked knowingly over at Goten, fully understanding what he had done to his friend. Even amidst the flaring powers Trunks had a firm lock on his friends signature. He too was waiting and hoping for a flash of familiar power to force itself into his gut, telling him that the cavalry was on its way.
Then it came, with such a force and speed that everyone paused, even the androids. The androids were stunned for less than a millisecond though after a flash of recognition that would take the Z-Warriors at least several seconds to understand. The familiar presence of Goku embraced them, letting hope glimmer for a second. However this was broken by Gotens desperate cries. "Its not Dad, its another one of them!"
"Huh?" Trunks barely had time to get the incredulous words out before a looming figure flashed into his vision. His eyes traced upward, his eyes growing progressively wider as he realised what he was about to be put up against. The close proximity was close enough to force a normal man to his knees, but the thought of his father standing fearlessly before far greater threats kept Trunks' reaction at bay. He never got to make eye contact though before the mans enormous hand was embedded in Trunks' stomach, followed by a sharp kick to the thigh causing Trunks' stance to waver. Without hesitation a blast of energy went flying towards Trunks' from point blank range. Even though he wasn't fully recovered Trunks moved enough so that the blast only grazed the side of his arm. However, the attack was not complete and with a final blow to the jaw and an elbow in the back Trunks dropped to the ground, breathing in the musty smell of the dirt mingling with his own blood. He coughed lightly, blood flowing with his breath before pushing himself back up to his knees. Determined to get a look at his attacker he raised his head, ignoring the pain that flashed through his body with the movement.
Whatever image had been built up in Trunks' mind, it was incomparable to the sight that befell his eyes. Without even taking in the face Trunks noticed the cold emptiness buried in the androids eyes. He had been told of the fear that those eyes incited, but it was nothing more than a campfire story to him. Now he understood that there were no words to describe the lack of humanity in those eyes and he finally understood the words that the other fighters had told him so many times. Although there was a lack of compassion burning in the eyes, there was something that fuelled them, something that he though impossible in an android – hatred. The cold hatred seemed to intensify and he feared for a moment that it might reach out and touch him or clasp its icy breath around his heart. Instead the two locked eyes, caught in a childlike staring contest.
"Very good, you've successfully taken down a child about half your size." Trunks couldn't help but smile at the familiar voice. In his preoccupation he hadn't even noticed his fathers approach. "Now, do you care to take on someone your own size?"
The android didn't even seem to hear Vegetas taunts. Instead his eyes remained locked on Trunks', probably fully aware of the things he was doing to the young boys mind. He was aware of his victory and smirked, but not Vegeta's confident smirk, nor Trunks' playful one, simply a cold and victorious smirk. Then he raised his hand, breaking the eye contact between the two and Trunks felt the energy gather and swirl in his palm. He closed his fist and pulled his hand back, ready to strike, but just as he did so Vegetas own blast intercepted the motion, effectively saving Trunks' life.
Letting out a sigh of relief, fatigue and fear Trunks' let himself fall back onto his hands before pushing himself up into a fighting stance. The eyes had overcome him and engulfed his mind, taking away any sense of control he had, slowing his reactions to the point of being useless. He shook his head, trying to clear it, not only of the grogginess that warned of his body's condition, but of the images that played in his minds eye.
Staggering towards his friend he left his father to handle the new threat. That guy was simply too strong and fast for him to be any use. In the end, he would simply end up in the way and in turn frustrating his father. One day Trunks knew he would be as strong as his father, even if there was no reason for his strength because there would always be one thing forcing him forward and that was his fathers expectations.
Goten saw his friend approaching and was almost able to laugh. He and Trunks were beaten beyond the point of comprehension to most normal humans, and here they were making feeble attempts to protect one another. Of course laughter seemed inappropriate and would probably rack at his ribs worse than his breath was so Goten settled for a smile. It may have not done much, but it certainly would have caused some confusion to anyone looking on the battle. Goten wasn't only smiling because he had a good friend that he knew he could always count on, or because they must look a pathetic sight – he was smiling mostly because he couldn't help it. His body was crying out for more, there was a masochist and a sadist inside him, each had been allowed to taste blood, each were going wild with desire. Of course, they were suppressed, but even in their prison Goten could feel the burning inside him waiting to be released and that sensation was something that always made him smile. It was a sick pleasure, but a part of his heritage all the same. It wasn't something that was talked about a lot in his family, but he knew his father felt it and he knew that the other Saiyans felt it. The nameless emotion was dealt with in individual ways, but it seemed a taboo subject most of the time. It was so strange and indescribable that nobody would know how to address it.
The energy hit Goten's back dead centre turning the flesh a deathly white. The skin remained unbroken, but with his energy so low there was not enough shield to keep the heat from seeping into his skin. The burning was intense, but nothing Goten couldn't handle, especially while on such an adrenaline rush. He gritted his teeth and spun about, not wasting the time to curse his inattention, and retaliated with a barrage of his own blasts, kicking up dust in his attempts. Trunks took his stance and copied the tactic, lighting up the battlefield. In the seconds that they had to spare Trunks called out to Goten, "We have to fuse or we'll never beat these guys."
"We don't have to...its a numbers game right now." Goten yelled, seconds before flying back into action, not making the mistake of assuming that the attack would even stun the android.
Trunks pondered Gotens words while he traded punches with the android who seemed barely hindered by the powerful blows. Goten was never a tactical genius, so why was he suddenly running the show? Trunks tried to understand his friends reasoning but all he could think of was the cold eyes that had faced him only minutes earlier. Only it wasn't really the eyes that were bothering him so much anymore, it was the fact that his father was facing the bearer of those eyes...his father was returning those deathly glares with his own Vegeta stare.
Goten was surprised that Trunks had trusted his decision, but was grateful for it. He didn't want to have to explain as he knew he was making a sound tactical decision without Trunks' consent. Goten was fully aware that it wasn't a numbers game, but rather a waiting one. If they fused and the fusion ended before any of the other warriors arrived then both he and Trunks would be tired...to tired to keep the game running. Although they may lack in raw power right now, the numbers could be an advantage and they needed the stamina. Androids don't get tired – one thing Goten remembered so well.
Trunks didn't tend to give him much credit when it came to planning and thinking, he saw him as his father, just as everyone else did. What others didn't realise was that Goku was a genius when it came to the battlefield and Goten had inherited the warriors intuition. That intuition was telling Goten that this battle would be an almighty one, but then again, it always was.
*
Paul's fingers glided easily across the keyboard before him. He engrossed himself in his work, trying to ignore the disturbing thoughts that ebbed through his mind. His eyes wandered momentarily to his side where Jacques was sitting with an impatient look scrawled across his face. Paul suppressed a shudder, realising what he had got himself into. At the point of the explosion Paul had realised that this had gone beyond a young mans revolutionary game, it had become a war.
It could have been said that such battles had occurred many times in the planets history with Son Goku or his son in the thick of it every time, but knowledge of these battles had been lost to myth. Questions regarding the discrepancies in Mr Satans untimely story were seemingly sucked into a black hole from which no explanation could return. There was no doubting that there was something unusual regarding the planets security, but Mancoff knew only of the androids that he had worked on with Dr Gero and nothing of the evils that had preceded that era. There was some data Gero had classified, even to his only apprentice, the one man who would carry on his legacy.
Jacques had no care for Geros legacy though, to him Gero was a failure and he had no desire to follow in these footsteps. His revolution knew not of history or honour, it knew only of victory. It was not a battle that could be fought with tanks or guns or armys, it would come down to the same thing war always came down to...a battle of strength and stamina of the two real contestants. Jacques was aware of the odds, and he liked them...he liked them a lot.
"Umm, Jacq-, err...Sir, Hyakugou."
"What about it?"
"He's arrived."
"He has?" Jacques shifted quickly in his seat allowing him to see the monitor. "Finally, it shouldn't have taken this long." His eyes ran along the five screens until he reached the one with a hasty 100 scribbled underneath in a black marker. The screen was blank. "Paul..."
"Yes sir?"
"I can't see it." His voice was becoming threatening causing Paul to stutter through his next lines.
"Well, I was just waiting to turn on the visuals before we are certain the others are aware of his arrival. It could give away his position."
Jacques waited patiently, fidgeting for a further ten seconds before the stress overcame him. "Just get us a damn picture!" he yelled.
Paul jumped in his seat and quickly brought up the images on the screen. He knew better than to question authority.
*
Gohan didn't need energy signatures to tell him that he had to hurry. The familiar sounds of fighting rang through the empty and dark hallways causing his human half to shudder. He never got used to the unnecessary bloodshed. Of course, his Saiyan side had begun to prepare him for the imminent action. As much as he liked to deny this side of himself, Gohan never felt out of place when fighting. It was one of those things he had learnt to deal with, along with every other conflicting emotion he had been bombarded with at a very young age.
Outside, Gohan was not greeted by the usual fresh smelling dew, characteristic of this area and time of day. Instead Gohan smelt the blood and the sweat. It was not unfamiliar to him and normally not unpleasant. It was one of those things that reminded him of training with his father.
Of course, this was not training and a growing light in the distance reminded him of that. As fast as his body would allow Gohan raced towards the flaring and fading power beacons, namely his brothers. He would have justified his decision with the argument that Gotens seemed the lowest, but really he knew that he was just worried for his brother and wanted to protect him – the instinct he had grown into since the very beginning.
Gohan didn't have time to think and had he not been half-saiyan he wouldn't have had time to react. Goten stood defeated, wounds tracing across his body and his clothes torn and hanging oddly off his thick frame. All that Gohan saw was a massive energy wave accelerating towards his brother.
It was not a conscious thought, it was barely even a thought. Gohan was simply there.
"Goten, get down!" Gohan yelled, despite the fact that the blast was already searing into his newly healed flesh. The pain seemed to hover though, not hitting until the power had waned, leaving Gohan lost in a cloud of smoke.
Grudgingly he sank to his knees.
"Gohan!" Goten dragged his tired body to attention. Gohan had told him to get down and he had done so without thinking. He trusted his brother, but he had not wanted him to go and do something like this. As his eyes granted him small snippets of vision he realised that Gohan was on his knees, breathing heavily.
To Gotens delight, Gohan turned around and smiled at him. It was not a smile characteristic of Gohan, rather the cheesy grin so often seen plastered across his fathers face. With that Goten couldn't help but forget that he was in amongst a deadly situation, but only for a second. The thanks could be saved for later.
As the dust continued to clear Goten realised that Gohan had not been letting on everything. Already a huge red patch had begun to form down the left side of Gohan's shirt.
Gohan seemed to notice the worried stare. "Don't worry, its just a scratch." Gohan told Goten, trying to sound reassuring, but only succeeding in portraying the pain he was really in.
Goten was fully aware that it wasn't 'just a scratch' but he was willing to let it slip because right now he had bigger problems to overcome. Gohan was strong enough to survive a lot worse and so was he. Concentrating on his energy Goten pushed the pain away and felt strangely rejuvinated. With a burst of power both brothers flew towards the waiting android.
Goten nodded at his brother, knowing exactly what was needed – time. Using his well perfected techniques he began to call out taunts, some of which he wouldn't want repeated to his mother, in an attempt to allow Gohan to go Mystic. The android was like a well trained soldier and didn't respond to any of this. He seemed dead-set on fighting, not concerned by anything but that. It was unfortunate for Gohan and Goten, but something had to be done because in their current state the Earth's forces were nothing more than a pathetic joke, barely slowing down the barrage.
Goten was injured...badly. It made sense that Gohan didn't want him involved in any serious fighting until he was able to back him up. Gohan had to swallow his honourable intents though and assure himself that he and his father had trained Goten to stand up to a lot worse. As much as he hated to, Gohan would have to leave Goten temporarily and once again render himself useless in protecting his brother. After a nanosecond of contemplation a small smirk flashed across Gohan's lips when he realised what he could do after his brief time-out. With that he left Goten to prove himself to the world. Still, in Gotens head the mantra continued, 'Its a numbers game now'.
And then the heavens erupted and Gohan felt the power surge through him. The real fight was about to get started and the odds were beginning to look better.
*
Thanks for reading. Please review – I'd love to know what you think.
*