[Disclaimer—I don't own DB/Z/GT.
A/N—As I am typing this, I can't get FF.net up on my computer. I will die if it stays down much longer. I just wanted you to know that….Oh, and this chapter is longer than the others because it just turned out like that—I'm not promising they'll all be this long!]
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Waking, Gohan hurried into the bathroom to get ready. Today was the day. He'd been home for a week now, and this was it. The day he began training with his father.
Gohan pulled on a long sleeved blue shirt, to hide the scars that criss- crossed his body. He didn't want to explain them, and if his parents saw them, he was sure they'd ask. He picked up his new orange gi from the counter, and pulled it over his head.
Gohan breathed deeply, trying to calm his nerves. He looked a lot like his father in this outfit. His mother had cut his hair a few days ago, and now it stuck up in several long spikes on the top of his head, half mimicking his father's wild hairdo.
Gohan felt his heart beating in his chest as he started down the stairs to where his father and Piccolo already awaited him. He had to keep control today. That was going to be no easy task. For him, fighting had always been about giving up—losing control, not maintaining it.
Gohan smiled a bit nervously as he met his father in the front yard, already performing his stretches.
Goku smiled up at his son as he walked out the door. "You ready to get to work Gohan?"
Gohan nodded weakly. He was as ready as he'd ever be.
________________
It'd been like this for months. Ever since he started training with Goku, it seemed like Gohan was always on edge. He'd learned a lot of new things, and both his father and Piccolo had been surprised by his strength. Gohan knew they would be even more surprised had they known what he was hiding.
Goku looked at his son as they fought. The fight wasn't intense—there was no fire in it—there never had been with Gohan. Every move seemed choreographed, every punch calculated. It was almost as if—he was holding back—afraid to let go.
Goku frowned with worry. It'd been several months now, that Gohan had been home. He hadn't mentioned a word of his past, or what'd happened in the time he'd been with Frieza. Goku didn't want to pry, but at the same time, he knew that something was wrong—horribly wrong. Watching the boy struggling in front of him, Goku was perplexed.
Gohan didn't seem to be struggling to keep up, or evade attacks—his fighting style had been a oddly distinct mish-mash when they had first started, but now his form was smooth, and he was learning to incorporate Goku and Piccolo's styles in with his own jumble, making it wholly original. No, the problem was somewhere else. He seemed to be struggling against himself. Or some part of himself.
Gohan fought for control. He felt the power surging to the surface, it did ever time he fought. His movements became jerky and sporadic as his internal struggle took precedence. Out of nowhere came a large ki blast, hitting him straight in the chest. Gohan felt his control slipping. He knew it was a losing battle, and as his hold on the power slipped, he screamed. In agony and terror, Gohan knew without a doubt that his secret was going to be revealed. Tears streamed down his face, as the rage took him, and he became a Super Saiyan.
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Goku was shocked. He'd shot a ki blast at Gohan in order to push him. In order to make him wake up and pay attention to the fight. It had certainly done that.
Goku heard his son's terrible scream and was buried beneath a whirlwind of kicks and punches before he knew what hit him. He was being beaten, because he was just too shocked to react.
Goku opened himself up, and ascended to Super Saiyan. He felt the familiar golden glow about him, and looked at the boy before him, rage and helpless terror written alternatingly across his face. Gohan was a Super Saiyan.
Goku kicked and blocked as his son attacked him, "Whoa, Gohan, calm down, why didn't you tell me you were a Super Saiyan?" A nameless scream of rage was his only answer.
Goku didn't understand. His son was a Super Saiyan, but it seemed that somehow, he hadn't learned to control it—he was being driven by the anger that flooded his veins. Reluctantly, Goku made a decision.
Dodging a monster ki blast, shot by the infuriated Gohan, Goku appeared behind his son and hit him sharply, on the side of the head with all of his strength.
Catching him before he fell, Goku looked wonderingly at his once-again black-haired son's tear ravaged face. They'd put this off too long. It was time for some explanations.
__________________
Gohan looked up blearily as he opened his eyes to see his parents sitting worriedly at his bedside. *Ugh, I feel horrible,* Gohan thought, moving his head slightly. Then he remembered. Super Saiyan. He'd turned Super Saiyan and attacked his father. Gohan felt his heart clench. He'd been so happy these past few months—the training had been difficult for him, holding back the rage he felt, but he had enjoyed spending time with his father. Ha—he'd even enjoyed studying. Gohan turned his eyes to his parents—it was all over now. After this, he knew they'd demand an explanation.
Goku looked down at his young son and saw the terror on his face. What secrets did those sad black eyes hide? Looking down, Goku saw that Gohan was waiting for him to ask. He knew what was coming. Goku sighed. This had to be done. No matter how painful it might be, Gohan had to learn to deal with his past, and learn to face whatever had happened. Goku looked into his son's eyes, as Chi-Chi squeezed his hand encouragingly, "Gohan. It's time, son. You need to tell your mother and I about your past. We need to know what happened while you were with Frieza.
Gohan's face became expressionless. He had to tell them—he'd known this day would come eventually. What would they say? Maybe his father would kill him. It might be better off that way—he certainly deserved it. Taking a deep breath, Gohan kept his face steady. He would take what was coming to him—he wouldn't beg for acceptance, or understanding. No one could understand. He couldn't expect them to.
Goku watched as his son's face became remote and expressionless. He leaned forward a bit, as Gohan opened his mouth and spoke in an empty, emotionless voice.
"When Radditz kidnapped me, he gave me to Frieza as a pet." Grimly amused, a corner of Gohan's mouth twitched up, and he turned to face Goku, "Hence the collar that Vegeta pulled off of me. He called me his 'little monkey boy.' I was an amusing toy to him I think—he spent a lot of his spare time training me."
Gohan fought down the revulsion that the memories brought, and continued. "His training usually consisted of beating me until I was nearly dead, and then throwing me in a regeneration tank to heal." Gohan heard his mother gasp, but ignored it—she'd know how much he deserved those beating, before too long. "Frieza always liked to tell me how severe injury caused a Saiyan to grow stronger. It must have been true because I did."
Goku felt the tears welling in his eyes. He had wondered why Gohan always wore a long sleeve shirt under his gi's. Perhaps now he had the answer.
Gohan continued. "When I was around six years old, I first became a Super Saiyan."
Goku's eyes widened with shock, "Wow! You turned Super Saiyan at six?! How did Frieza keep you under control?"
Gohan laughed, mirthlessly. "It was the collar. Up until then, I'd thought he just used it to humiliate me. He even had a little golden leash he towed me around on sometimes. But no. The collar—it was some kind of device used to suppress ki. He controlled me with it." Gohan suppressed a shudder—it was now or never—they had to know the truth—he couldn't keep it from them any longer. "The first person I killed as a Super Saiyan was Radditz."
Goku's eyes widened at that, and Chi-Chi grasped his hand a bit tighter. "The first?" she whispered.
Gohan's head jerked a bit at the sound of her voice, and then his eyes returned to a spot on the ceiling. Tears ran in thin streams down the emotionless mask that covered his face. "Yes. The first. As you saw outside father, I can't control Super Saiyan. Frieza knew that. After the first time I transformed, Frieza would take me to a planet he wanted purged, and then he would—do things. Things to make me angry. At first it was things to me—I became immune to that after awhile—I could kind of block it out when it happened to me. After awhile, he started doing things to other people to make me angry. It was something different each time, but he always knew which buttons to push."
Goku looked on in horror, as what his son was saying started to dawn on him.
Gohan continued. It was flowing out now—everything he'd always wanted to tell them—his darkest secrets—everything he hated and feared the most. Turning to look his father in the eye, Gohan stated expressionlessly, "I purged planets for Frieza, father. I'm a murderer, millions if not billions of times over. I killed innocents trying to defend their homes." Oblivious to the tears now drenching the neck of his shirt, where they had soaked in, Gohan kept going, "I couldn't control Super Saiyan. I still can't. I thought maybe it couldn't be controlled, until I saw you and Trunks control it. That's why I—reacted the way I did."
Goku thought back to his son's agonized screams when he had first turned Super Saiyan in front of him. "Gohan," Goku reached out to touch his son's shoulder, only to have him wince away.
"D-do you hate me?" Gohan asked, trying to remain distant, but a terrible agony shone in his dark eyes.
Goku reached out and pulled his shuddering son into his arms. He felt as if his heart would break. Thinking back to his fight on Namek, with Frieza, Goku felt himself, for the first time in his life, regretting that show of mercy. Stroking Gohan's hair, Goku hummed a gentle tune to sooth his son.
Turning, he saw his wife, her face as tear streaked as his own, holding her hands across her mouth to stifle her sobs.
Rocking Gohan gently back and forth, Goku mentally cursed Frieza—for hurting his son—for forcing his son to hurt others—but mostly, for convincing Gohan that it was his fault—for convincing his son that he was a murderer.
Gohan's mind roiled, replaying the terrible images of frightened faces and peaceful cities laid to ruin. The looks of terror on frightened faces, right before he had killed them.
It might have helped, had he known that they hadn't blamed him. Had he known the pity that his victims had felt for the golden boy who had come to kill them, with unbearable agony screaming out from his eyes, and tears coursing down his cheeks. Then again, it might not have.
***If you liked it, R&R please!***
A/N—As I am typing this, I can't get FF.net up on my computer. I will die if it stays down much longer. I just wanted you to know that….Oh, and this chapter is longer than the others because it just turned out like that—I'm not promising they'll all be this long!]
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Waking, Gohan hurried into the bathroom to get ready. Today was the day. He'd been home for a week now, and this was it. The day he began training with his father.
Gohan pulled on a long sleeved blue shirt, to hide the scars that criss- crossed his body. He didn't want to explain them, and if his parents saw them, he was sure they'd ask. He picked up his new orange gi from the counter, and pulled it over his head.
Gohan breathed deeply, trying to calm his nerves. He looked a lot like his father in this outfit. His mother had cut his hair a few days ago, and now it stuck up in several long spikes on the top of his head, half mimicking his father's wild hairdo.
Gohan felt his heart beating in his chest as he started down the stairs to where his father and Piccolo already awaited him. He had to keep control today. That was going to be no easy task. For him, fighting had always been about giving up—losing control, not maintaining it.
Gohan smiled a bit nervously as he met his father in the front yard, already performing his stretches.
Goku smiled up at his son as he walked out the door. "You ready to get to work Gohan?"
Gohan nodded weakly. He was as ready as he'd ever be.
________________
It'd been like this for months. Ever since he started training with Goku, it seemed like Gohan was always on edge. He'd learned a lot of new things, and both his father and Piccolo had been surprised by his strength. Gohan knew they would be even more surprised had they known what he was hiding.
Goku looked at his son as they fought. The fight wasn't intense—there was no fire in it—there never had been with Gohan. Every move seemed choreographed, every punch calculated. It was almost as if—he was holding back—afraid to let go.
Goku frowned with worry. It'd been several months now, that Gohan had been home. He hadn't mentioned a word of his past, or what'd happened in the time he'd been with Frieza. Goku didn't want to pry, but at the same time, he knew that something was wrong—horribly wrong. Watching the boy struggling in front of him, Goku was perplexed.
Gohan didn't seem to be struggling to keep up, or evade attacks—his fighting style had been a oddly distinct mish-mash when they had first started, but now his form was smooth, and he was learning to incorporate Goku and Piccolo's styles in with his own jumble, making it wholly original. No, the problem was somewhere else. He seemed to be struggling against himself. Or some part of himself.
Gohan fought for control. He felt the power surging to the surface, it did ever time he fought. His movements became jerky and sporadic as his internal struggle took precedence. Out of nowhere came a large ki blast, hitting him straight in the chest. Gohan felt his control slipping. He knew it was a losing battle, and as his hold on the power slipped, he screamed. In agony and terror, Gohan knew without a doubt that his secret was going to be revealed. Tears streamed down his face, as the rage took him, and he became a Super Saiyan.
______________
Goku was shocked. He'd shot a ki blast at Gohan in order to push him. In order to make him wake up and pay attention to the fight. It had certainly done that.
Goku heard his son's terrible scream and was buried beneath a whirlwind of kicks and punches before he knew what hit him. He was being beaten, because he was just too shocked to react.
Goku opened himself up, and ascended to Super Saiyan. He felt the familiar golden glow about him, and looked at the boy before him, rage and helpless terror written alternatingly across his face. Gohan was a Super Saiyan.
Goku kicked and blocked as his son attacked him, "Whoa, Gohan, calm down, why didn't you tell me you were a Super Saiyan?" A nameless scream of rage was his only answer.
Goku didn't understand. His son was a Super Saiyan, but it seemed that somehow, he hadn't learned to control it—he was being driven by the anger that flooded his veins. Reluctantly, Goku made a decision.
Dodging a monster ki blast, shot by the infuriated Gohan, Goku appeared behind his son and hit him sharply, on the side of the head with all of his strength.
Catching him before he fell, Goku looked wonderingly at his once-again black-haired son's tear ravaged face. They'd put this off too long. It was time for some explanations.
__________________
Gohan looked up blearily as he opened his eyes to see his parents sitting worriedly at his bedside. *Ugh, I feel horrible,* Gohan thought, moving his head slightly. Then he remembered. Super Saiyan. He'd turned Super Saiyan and attacked his father. Gohan felt his heart clench. He'd been so happy these past few months—the training had been difficult for him, holding back the rage he felt, but he had enjoyed spending time with his father. Ha—he'd even enjoyed studying. Gohan turned his eyes to his parents—it was all over now. After this, he knew they'd demand an explanation.
Goku looked down at his young son and saw the terror on his face. What secrets did those sad black eyes hide? Looking down, Goku saw that Gohan was waiting for him to ask. He knew what was coming. Goku sighed. This had to be done. No matter how painful it might be, Gohan had to learn to deal with his past, and learn to face whatever had happened. Goku looked into his son's eyes, as Chi-Chi squeezed his hand encouragingly, "Gohan. It's time, son. You need to tell your mother and I about your past. We need to know what happened while you were with Frieza.
Gohan's face became expressionless. He had to tell them—he'd known this day would come eventually. What would they say? Maybe his father would kill him. It might be better off that way—he certainly deserved it. Taking a deep breath, Gohan kept his face steady. He would take what was coming to him—he wouldn't beg for acceptance, or understanding. No one could understand. He couldn't expect them to.
Goku watched as his son's face became remote and expressionless. He leaned forward a bit, as Gohan opened his mouth and spoke in an empty, emotionless voice.
"When Radditz kidnapped me, he gave me to Frieza as a pet." Grimly amused, a corner of Gohan's mouth twitched up, and he turned to face Goku, "Hence the collar that Vegeta pulled off of me. He called me his 'little monkey boy.' I was an amusing toy to him I think—he spent a lot of his spare time training me."
Gohan fought down the revulsion that the memories brought, and continued. "His training usually consisted of beating me until I was nearly dead, and then throwing me in a regeneration tank to heal." Gohan heard his mother gasp, but ignored it—she'd know how much he deserved those beating, before too long. "Frieza always liked to tell me how severe injury caused a Saiyan to grow stronger. It must have been true because I did."
Goku felt the tears welling in his eyes. He had wondered why Gohan always wore a long sleeve shirt under his gi's. Perhaps now he had the answer.
Gohan continued. "When I was around six years old, I first became a Super Saiyan."
Goku's eyes widened with shock, "Wow! You turned Super Saiyan at six?! How did Frieza keep you under control?"
Gohan laughed, mirthlessly. "It was the collar. Up until then, I'd thought he just used it to humiliate me. He even had a little golden leash he towed me around on sometimes. But no. The collar—it was some kind of device used to suppress ki. He controlled me with it." Gohan suppressed a shudder—it was now or never—they had to know the truth—he couldn't keep it from them any longer. "The first person I killed as a Super Saiyan was Radditz."
Goku's eyes widened at that, and Chi-Chi grasped his hand a bit tighter. "The first?" she whispered.
Gohan's head jerked a bit at the sound of her voice, and then his eyes returned to a spot on the ceiling. Tears ran in thin streams down the emotionless mask that covered his face. "Yes. The first. As you saw outside father, I can't control Super Saiyan. Frieza knew that. After the first time I transformed, Frieza would take me to a planet he wanted purged, and then he would—do things. Things to make me angry. At first it was things to me—I became immune to that after awhile—I could kind of block it out when it happened to me. After awhile, he started doing things to other people to make me angry. It was something different each time, but he always knew which buttons to push."
Goku looked on in horror, as what his son was saying started to dawn on him.
Gohan continued. It was flowing out now—everything he'd always wanted to tell them—his darkest secrets—everything he hated and feared the most. Turning to look his father in the eye, Gohan stated expressionlessly, "I purged planets for Frieza, father. I'm a murderer, millions if not billions of times over. I killed innocents trying to defend their homes." Oblivious to the tears now drenching the neck of his shirt, where they had soaked in, Gohan kept going, "I couldn't control Super Saiyan. I still can't. I thought maybe it couldn't be controlled, until I saw you and Trunks control it. That's why I—reacted the way I did."
Goku thought back to his son's agonized screams when he had first turned Super Saiyan in front of him. "Gohan," Goku reached out to touch his son's shoulder, only to have him wince away.
"D-do you hate me?" Gohan asked, trying to remain distant, but a terrible agony shone in his dark eyes.
Goku reached out and pulled his shuddering son into his arms. He felt as if his heart would break. Thinking back to his fight on Namek, with Frieza, Goku felt himself, for the first time in his life, regretting that show of mercy. Stroking Gohan's hair, Goku hummed a gentle tune to sooth his son.
Turning, he saw his wife, her face as tear streaked as his own, holding her hands across her mouth to stifle her sobs.
Rocking Gohan gently back and forth, Goku mentally cursed Frieza—for hurting his son—for forcing his son to hurt others—but mostly, for convincing Gohan that it was his fault—for convincing his son that he was a murderer.
Gohan's mind roiled, replaying the terrible images of frightened faces and peaceful cities laid to ruin. The looks of terror on frightened faces, right before he had killed them.
It might have helped, had he known that they hadn't blamed him. Had he known the pity that his victims had felt for the golden boy who had come to kill them, with unbearable agony screaming out from his eyes, and tears coursing down his cheeks. Then again, it might not have.
***If you liked it, R&R please!***