Disclaimer—I don't own DB/Z/GT.
A/N—Sorry this isn't being updated as often as it used to be—I'll try to get at least one chapter out every two days from now on—I've just been having a HUGE brain fart on seemingly ALL of my stories lately! I'd like to note, that this story may seem to be covering large chunks of DBZ time all at once—this is because this is mostly from Gohan's POV—Important and significant events that shape his life are what is important—we all know the story line. Ok, hope you like it!
_____________________
Gohan tapped his shoe. Tap. Tap. Tap. He could hardly contain his frustration. He wanted to be doing something. ANYTHING. Instead, he sat here, at Kame House, while Trunks and the others went to investigate the odd ki they had sensed.
Gohan felt a shiver run up and down his body. It was too horrible. He knew the decision to leave him had been the right one—from the moment Gohan had felt it, he'd been a mess. Frieza's ki.
Gohan's mind was awhirl with anger, frustration, hopelessness, terror. What if Frieza was back? What if he had somehow survived, and returned to reclaim him?
Gohan knew that it was irrational. It was impossible. Even if Freiza really had returned, there was no way he could defeat two Super Saiyans—Vegeta and Trunks. Collarless as he now was, Gohan could even protect himself, if it came down to it. Yet still, when he had first felt that familiar ki…
Gohan gave a small growl of frustration and embarrassment at what his reaction had been. He and Trunks had just returned from observing the time machine that Bulma had told them about, and the strange shell of the creature they had found near it. Entering the house, Gohan had been about to speak to his mother when he had felt it.
Gripped by terror, Gohan had gasped and fallen shaking to his knees, confusion and panic surging through his body. The others had gathered around him, concerned. He had barely been able to speak. Luckily, he hadn't had to, as they had felt it as well, a second later.
Gohan dug his fingers into the cushions of the couch he sat on and rocked back and forth. Tap. Tap. Tap. He felt like he was going crazy. He didn't blame the others for leaving him behind—not after he had been overtaken by a trembling flashback right there on the floor, in front of them all.
That was what was so humiliating about it all. When he had finally pulled himself back together, he'd had no answers for their questioning stares. What was he to tell them? That he had just relived being virtually disemboweled by Frieza? That his pained screams were a result of feeling his intestines slide slowly through his fingers, and having them stuffed roughly back inside as he was flung into a regeneration chamber—that Gohan's moment of defiance had resulted in Frieza having a temper-tantrum and blowing up a star system?
No. He had no answers to give them. Sometimes silence was kinder than the truth.
Gohan ran a hand roughly through his hair. Yes. The decision to leave him behind had been the correct one—but it didn't stop him from being agitated. Gohan wanted to scream almost. He was being pulled in two separate directions. One part of him wanted to go find this Frieza-ki look-alike and demolish it. Wipe it out of existence. Another part, whimpered at the thought, and wished more than anything that his father would wake up so he could cower behind him.
Gohan sternly suppressed that part. No—he wished for his father to get better, so they could fight, and defeat the androids. Nothing more.
Gohan sighed, and put his head in his hands. He sometimes wondered—was this legacy of terror his destiny, or his punishment?
____________________
Almost an hour later, still in his contemplative position, Gohan was startled out of thought as the house shook. Rushing quickly outside, an involuntary smile leapt to his face. There, on the beach stood his father, alive, and looking healthy, once again.
Gohan watched in subdued joy as his mother came flying across the beach and threw herself into Goku's arms. He even laughed a little as Goku tossed his wife a little too high in the air, in his efforts to prove his health, then caught her with ease.
Gohan felt the fears and worries of the past days begin to be soothed away, by the mere presence of the man before him. His father was well again—things were going to be ok. Frieza or no Frieza.
_____________________
Gohan paced worriedly in front of the Room of Spirit and Time. He wasn't worried about training in there—no matter how harsh it was, he was confident that he had suffered worse. No—it was the flickering ki from the earth below that worried him.
When his father had stopped him from going down to assist Piccolo, Gohan had been confused. Over the past three years, he had come to respect the Namek. Thinking on it, Gohan had concluded that Piccolo was the first one he could truly call friend. And his father had stopped him from coming to his aid.
The blow had been a shock. When Gohan had openly defied his father and tried to fly to Piccolo's aid, Goku had stuck him. Of course, Goku had struck him before—they did spar together, but never as a form of punishment. And moreover, he had NEVER, not once, spoken harshly to him. The words had stilled Gohan more than a thousand blows would have.
Gohan stopped his pacing to gaze at Goku whose jaw was clenched in frustration. Gohan knew his father cared—it was just so hard, to sit here and do nothing. Tien's ki was fading. Just as Piccolo's had.
Gohan blinked in surprise as Goku surged to his feet with an oath and disappeared. His heart clenched with hope—perhaps…
Gohan jumped back in shock as his father appeared with one arm around Tien, and his other hand grasping the arm of…Piccolo!
Gohan felt a surge of happiness as he watched his father give the two wounded fighters a senzu bean. He hadn't realized how hard it would be to see a—friend—die.
Gohan turned his attention back to the Time Room. He knew Piccolo wouldn't appreciate his tears, and his turned back gave him ample time to wipe them clear.
Gohan tried to shake it off. Piccolo was ok—he needed to concentrate on the training that would insure his friend remained that way. Soon Gohan would be in that room, alone with his father for a year. The idea held a certain attractiveness for Gohan—he desperately wanted to spend time with his father. On the other hand, it contained his horror.
For Gohan's goal was to train to defeat the androids, and this new menace—this creature called Cell. In order to do that, Gohan's mission when he entered the Room of Spirit and Time, was nothing less than mastery. His mission was control. Control of Super Saiyan.
Gohan clenched his fists and repressed a shudder. He stared at the door to the Time Room, as if he could force Vegeta and Trunks to emerge by his will alone. He knew he would experience pain when he entered—pain was no stranger to Gohan, but this time the pain had a purpose, and the purpose had a face. His father and Piccolo's faces swam before Gohan's vision accompanied by a multitude of others. He would obtain it. *I can do this. I'll do it for you, father. And for you, Piccolo.*
***R&R please!***
A/N—Sorry this isn't being updated as often as it used to be—I'll try to get at least one chapter out every two days from now on—I've just been having a HUGE brain fart on seemingly ALL of my stories lately! I'd like to note, that this story may seem to be covering large chunks of DBZ time all at once—this is because this is mostly from Gohan's POV—Important and significant events that shape his life are what is important—we all know the story line. Ok, hope you like it!
_____________________
Gohan tapped his shoe. Tap. Tap. Tap. He could hardly contain his frustration. He wanted to be doing something. ANYTHING. Instead, he sat here, at Kame House, while Trunks and the others went to investigate the odd ki they had sensed.
Gohan felt a shiver run up and down his body. It was too horrible. He knew the decision to leave him had been the right one—from the moment Gohan had felt it, he'd been a mess. Frieza's ki.
Gohan's mind was awhirl with anger, frustration, hopelessness, terror. What if Frieza was back? What if he had somehow survived, and returned to reclaim him?
Gohan knew that it was irrational. It was impossible. Even if Freiza really had returned, there was no way he could defeat two Super Saiyans—Vegeta and Trunks. Collarless as he now was, Gohan could even protect himself, if it came down to it. Yet still, when he had first felt that familiar ki…
Gohan gave a small growl of frustration and embarrassment at what his reaction had been. He and Trunks had just returned from observing the time machine that Bulma had told them about, and the strange shell of the creature they had found near it. Entering the house, Gohan had been about to speak to his mother when he had felt it.
Gripped by terror, Gohan had gasped and fallen shaking to his knees, confusion and panic surging through his body. The others had gathered around him, concerned. He had barely been able to speak. Luckily, he hadn't had to, as they had felt it as well, a second later.
Gohan dug his fingers into the cushions of the couch he sat on and rocked back and forth. Tap. Tap. Tap. He felt like he was going crazy. He didn't blame the others for leaving him behind—not after he had been overtaken by a trembling flashback right there on the floor, in front of them all.
That was what was so humiliating about it all. When he had finally pulled himself back together, he'd had no answers for their questioning stares. What was he to tell them? That he had just relived being virtually disemboweled by Frieza? That his pained screams were a result of feeling his intestines slide slowly through his fingers, and having them stuffed roughly back inside as he was flung into a regeneration chamber—that Gohan's moment of defiance had resulted in Frieza having a temper-tantrum and blowing up a star system?
No. He had no answers to give them. Sometimes silence was kinder than the truth.
Gohan ran a hand roughly through his hair. Yes. The decision to leave him behind had been the correct one—but it didn't stop him from being agitated. Gohan wanted to scream almost. He was being pulled in two separate directions. One part of him wanted to go find this Frieza-ki look-alike and demolish it. Wipe it out of existence. Another part, whimpered at the thought, and wished more than anything that his father would wake up so he could cower behind him.
Gohan sternly suppressed that part. No—he wished for his father to get better, so they could fight, and defeat the androids. Nothing more.
Gohan sighed, and put his head in his hands. He sometimes wondered—was this legacy of terror his destiny, or his punishment?
____________________
Almost an hour later, still in his contemplative position, Gohan was startled out of thought as the house shook. Rushing quickly outside, an involuntary smile leapt to his face. There, on the beach stood his father, alive, and looking healthy, once again.
Gohan watched in subdued joy as his mother came flying across the beach and threw herself into Goku's arms. He even laughed a little as Goku tossed his wife a little too high in the air, in his efforts to prove his health, then caught her with ease.
Gohan felt the fears and worries of the past days begin to be soothed away, by the mere presence of the man before him. His father was well again—things were going to be ok. Frieza or no Frieza.
_____________________
Gohan paced worriedly in front of the Room of Spirit and Time. He wasn't worried about training in there—no matter how harsh it was, he was confident that he had suffered worse. No—it was the flickering ki from the earth below that worried him.
When his father had stopped him from going down to assist Piccolo, Gohan had been confused. Over the past three years, he had come to respect the Namek. Thinking on it, Gohan had concluded that Piccolo was the first one he could truly call friend. And his father had stopped him from coming to his aid.
The blow had been a shock. When Gohan had openly defied his father and tried to fly to Piccolo's aid, Goku had stuck him. Of course, Goku had struck him before—they did spar together, but never as a form of punishment. And moreover, he had NEVER, not once, spoken harshly to him. The words had stilled Gohan more than a thousand blows would have.
Gohan stopped his pacing to gaze at Goku whose jaw was clenched in frustration. Gohan knew his father cared—it was just so hard, to sit here and do nothing. Tien's ki was fading. Just as Piccolo's had.
Gohan blinked in surprise as Goku surged to his feet with an oath and disappeared. His heart clenched with hope—perhaps…
Gohan jumped back in shock as his father appeared with one arm around Tien, and his other hand grasping the arm of…Piccolo!
Gohan felt a surge of happiness as he watched his father give the two wounded fighters a senzu bean. He hadn't realized how hard it would be to see a—friend—die.
Gohan turned his attention back to the Time Room. He knew Piccolo wouldn't appreciate his tears, and his turned back gave him ample time to wipe them clear.
Gohan tried to shake it off. Piccolo was ok—he needed to concentrate on the training that would insure his friend remained that way. Soon Gohan would be in that room, alone with his father for a year. The idea held a certain attractiveness for Gohan—he desperately wanted to spend time with his father. On the other hand, it contained his horror.
For Gohan's goal was to train to defeat the androids, and this new menace—this creature called Cell. In order to do that, Gohan's mission when he entered the Room of Spirit and Time, was nothing less than mastery. His mission was control. Control of Super Saiyan.
Gohan clenched his fists and repressed a shudder. He stared at the door to the Time Room, as if he could force Vegeta and Trunks to emerge by his will alone. He knew he would experience pain when he entered—pain was no stranger to Gohan, but this time the pain had a purpose, and the purpose had a face. His father and Piccolo's faces swam before Gohan's vision accompanied by a multitude of others. He would obtain it. *I can do this. I'll do it for you, father. And for you, Piccolo.*
***R&R please!***