Disclaimer—I don't own DB/Z/GT
A/N--::stares warily at reviewers:: You guys know I love you, right? ::gulp:: On with the story…
_____________
Gohan stared despondently at the smoking crater that had been created as a result of his and Cell's final clash.
Goku had died for nothing, and from the smoke had torn a beam of light, ending Trunks' life too.
Cell had returned. Returned and almost killed them all. Gohan had barely survived. During the struggle, he had imagined that he had heard his father's voice in his head, urging him on. He'd been wrong of course—hearing voices—yeah right. His father was dead, and it was all his fault. All his fault.
Gohan's blank gaze searched the rim of the gaping hole for any trace of Android 16. Not even a shard of metal remained of the brave being. He was alone. All alone, with only his thoughts to keep him company—to torment him.
Everyone had left a while ago. He'd made them leave, insisting he wished to be alone. Even Piccolo had left after he had asked him to—he just wanted to be alone…
Gohan's mind felt—blank—like an icy white sheet of marble—nothing touched it. Screaming beneath the surface, Gohan knew his emotions still churned somewhere down below, just as he knew, with a sickening certainty, that he'd added another face to the innumerable list of his victims today.
No—not Cell. Defeating Cell was one of the few good things he had ever done in his life—a small step towards possible redemption for impossible sins. No—this new victim was none other than his own father. He'd killed him as certainly as if he'd done it with his own hands. Killed him thorough inaction. Through arrogance. Through pride. Through ANGER. That damnable anger that had possessed him for so long—that ruled over his very soul.
In a stark, bleak way, it was now quite obvious to Gohan that there was no escape from it. The anger. He felt strangely detached, almost serene. An oddly frozen certainty had replaced the roiling turmoil he'd felt for so many years, and washing away all other emotions, overriding them like a breath of fresh air, was relief.
The relief was overwhelming. He didn't have to fight it anymore. He would finally achieve the ultimate atonement, in the only way he knew how. His sins would be washed away when his soul was sent to hell and cleansed. Gohan found this thought slightly amusing. Blood might not wash away sins, but King Enma sure did!
Gohan extended his senses cautiously into the distance. He didn't want anyone to know what he was planning. Until it was too late. Sensing no one around, Gohan sat down to wait. To wait until the dragon was summoned, and had granted the wishes of the summoner. Gohan was a very smart boy—he knew to wait. He would not be deprived of his rightful place in Hell.
__________________
On Kami's lookout, the Dragon had been summoned. The wishes had been made, and Shenlong had returned to his slumber.
Trunks sat up painfully on the deck of the lookout, blinking his eyes rapidly, trying to wash away images of Otherworld.
Surrounded by joyful cries, Trunks smiled weakly up at his new friends. Just as he opened his mouth to ask what had happened, Trunks felt an incredible surge of energy in the distance.
Every ki-sensing head on Kami's lookout snapped towards the direction of the energy surge. Most faces were etched with confusion, but Trunks had a sickening feeling he knew what had just happened. A cold mirror from within reflected Trunks' own face at fourteen when Gohan died. Perhaps he knew, because he knew the desire, knew the compulsion. Glancing at Piccolo, Trunks saw his own fears confirmed in the Namek's eyes. Normally cold and aloof, Piccolo's face was shocked, and horrified. The rest of the Z-senshi, save Trunks whose head was already bowed in grief, turned questioning gazes on Piccolo as he murmured, "Shit."
__________________
Gohan felt it. The dragon had been summoned, and freedom was near at hand. That's how he viewed it. Freedom. Freedom from sins that had grown too heavy to carry.
Gohan stumbled heavily to his feet, and with a tortured scream, powered up to Super Saiyan 2 once again. With the last of his strength, dredged from unknown depths out of pure desperation, Gohan fired a Kamehameha wave—his father's trademark attack. As Gohan zipped around in front of the blast, he mused to himself that it was fitting—fitting that his father's attack should be the one that killed him. Sort of poetic justice that the pure attack of the father should burn the evil that was his son from the world forever.
Arriving in front of the blast, Gohan closed his eyes, and dropped Super Saiyan. As the blast hit the black haired child, he barely felt the pain as it burned into his skin. So great was his emotional burden, all he felt was relief.
___________________
Gohan blinked heavily, to find himself standing in a long line of white blobs. Cautiously, he approached the huge desk set in the center of the room, and addressed the red figure behind it. "Are you King Yemma?"
King Yemma looked up at the child standing in front of him. He was vaguely familiar. Looking down at his notes, Yemma saw that the boy's name was Son Gohan. Son—the name clicked, and Yemma smiled. "Ahh, yes, you're Goku's boy! Let's see, we've got you scheduled to go to the Grand Kai's planet to train with your father."
Whatever Yemma had been expecting, it wasn't the reaction that he got. The boy's young face crumpled like worn paper, and he fell to his knees sobbing into his hands.
Yemma was unsure of what to do—his shock was magnified when the boy gazed up at him out of torture-filled eyes, and made a plea.
"Please—just send me to Hell! It's where I deserve to go, don't you understand?" the hysterical child shrieked, "I killed them, I killed them all, my father, Trunks, all those people, it's all my fault! I was just kidding myself thinking I could ever do anything good! Please," Gohan begged, "send me to Hell and erase my soul—I just can't take anymore of this!"
Yemma didn't know what to say, finally, after several seconds of looking down into the huddled child's pleading eyes, he managed, "Anymore of what?"
Gohan seemed at a loss for words for a moment, then gazing up into the red man's eyes, he captured it. "Existing."
Yemma didn't know how to handle this. Finally, he shook his head and said gently, "I'm sorry, but I can't send you to Hell."
These simple words seemed to send the child into a kind of emotional Hell, as he curled up on the floor and was wracked with heaving sobs.
Yemma looked up in shock as someone else appeared in the room beside his desk. He was relieved to see that it was the boy's father, Goku, along with King Kai.
Yemma looked on as Goku knelt at the shaking boy's side, and gently lifted him into his arms.
Looking up at the King of the Underworld, Goku held his shivering son close to his chest. Goku felt a coldness that he'd never felt before as he addressed Yemma. "You'd better make sure you keep Frieza safe down there in Hell, Yemma," Goku hissed between his teeth, cradling Gohan closer, "If I ever get hold of him again, I'm going to make your Hell seem like a Paradise."
With these words, Goku stalked from the room, followed closely by King Kai. The only sign that they had been there at all was the sound of Gohan's heart wrenching sobs as they retreated down the long hall, and into Otherworld.
***Dodges flying vegetables. ::yelps:: this isn't the end, this isn't the end! I did mention that the time limit on wishing people back has been lifted for the sake of this story, didn't I? You guys should have seen this coming, I foreshadowed it at every turn! R&R please!***
A/N--::stares warily at reviewers:: You guys know I love you, right? ::gulp:: On with the story…
_____________
Gohan stared despondently at the smoking crater that had been created as a result of his and Cell's final clash.
Goku had died for nothing, and from the smoke had torn a beam of light, ending Trunks' life too.
Cell had returned. Returned and almost killed them all. Gohan had barely survived. During the struggle, he had imagined that he had heard his father's voice in his head, urging him on. He'd been wrong of course—hearing voices—yeah right. His father was dead, and it was all his fault. All his fault.
Gohan's blank gaze searched the rim of the gaping hole for any trace of Android 16. Not even a shard of metal remained of the brave being. He was alone. All alone, with only his thoughts to keep him company—to torment him.
Everyone had left a while ago. He'd made them leave, insisting he wished to be alone. Even Piccolo had left after he had asked him to—he just wanted to be alone…
Gohan's mind felt—blank—like an icy white sheet of marble—nothing touched it. Screaming beneath the surface, Gohan knew his emotions still churned somewhere down below, just as he knew, with a sickening certainty, that he'd added another face to the innumerable list of his victims today.
No—not Cell. Defeating Cell was one of the few good things he had ever done in his life—a small step towards possible redemption for impossible sins. No—this new victim was none other than his own father. He'd killed him as certainly as if he'd done it with his own hands. Killed him thorough inaction. Through arrogance. Through pride. Through ANGER. That damnable anger that had possessed him for so long—that ruled over his very soul.
In a stark, bleak way, it was now quite obvious to Gohan that there was no escape from it. The anger. He felt strangely detached, almost serene. An oddly frozen certainty had replaced the roiling turmoil he'd felt for so many years, and washing away all other emotions, overriding them like a breath of fresh air, was relief.
The relief was overwhelming. He didn't have to fight it anymore. He would finally achieve the ultimate atonement, in the only way he knew how. His sins would be washed away when his soul was sent to hell and cleansed. Gohan found this thought slightly amusing. Blood might not wash away sins, but King Enma sure did!
Gohan extended his senses cautiously into the distance. He didn't want anyone to know what he was planning. Until it was too late. Sensing no one around, Gohan sat down to wait. To wait until the dragon was summoned, and had granted the wishes of the summoner. Gohan was a very smart boy—he knew to wait. He would not be deprived of his rightful place in Hell.
__________________
On Kami's lookout, the Dragon had been summoned. The wishes had been made, and Shenlong had returned to his slumber.
Trunks sat up painfully on the deck of the lookout, blinking his eyes rapidly, trying to wash away images of Otherworld.
Surrounded by joyful cries, Trunks smiled weakly up at his new friends. Just as he opened his mouth to ask what had happened, Trunks felt an incredible surge of energy in the distance.
Every ki-sensing head on Kami's lookout snapped towards the direction of the energy surge. Most faces were etched with confusion, but Trunks had a sickening feeling he knew what had just happened. A cold mirror from within reflected Trunks' own face at fourteen when Gohan died. Perhaps he knew, because he knew the desire, knew the compulsion. Glancing at Piccolo, Trunks saw his own fears confirmed in the Namek's eyes. Normally cold and aloof, Piccolo's face was shocked, and horrified. The rest of the Z-senshi, save Trunks whose head was already bowed in grief, turned questioning gazes on Piccolo as he murmured, "Shit."
__________________
Gohan felt it. The dragon had been summoned, and freedom was near at hand. That's how he viewed it. Freedom. Freedom from sins that had grown too heavy to carry.
Gohan stumbled heavily to his feet, and with a tortured scream, powered up to Super Saiyan 2 once again. With the last of his strength, dredged from unknown depths out of pure desperation, Gohan fired a Kamehameha wave—his father's trademark attack. As Gohan zipped around in front of the blast, he mused to himself that it was fitting—fitting that his father's attack should be the one that killed him. Sort of poetic justice that the pure attack of the father should burn the evil that was his son from the world forever.
Arriving in front of the blast, Gohan closed his eyes, and dropped Super Saiyan. As the blast hit the black haired child, he barely felt the pain as it burned into his skin. So great was his emotional burden, all he felt was relief.
___________________
Gohan blinked heavily, to find himself standing in a long line of white blobs. Cautiously, he approached the huge desk set in the center of the room, and addressed the red figure behind it. "Are you King Yemma?"
King Yemma looked up at the child standing in front of him. He was vaguely familiar. Looking down at his notes, Yemma saw that the boy's name was Son Gohan. Son—the name clicked, and Yemma smiled. "Ahh, yes, you're Goku's boy! Let's see, we've got you scheduled to go to the Grand Kai's planet to train with your father."
Whatever Yemma had been expecting, it wasn't the reaction that he got. The boy's young face crumpled like worn paper, and he fell to his knees sobbing into his hands.
Yemma was unsure of what to do—his shock was magnified when the boy gazed up at him out of torture-filled eyes, and made a plea.
"Please—just send me to Hell! It's where I deserve to go, don't you understand?" the hysterical child shrieked, "I killed them, I killed them all, my father, Trunks, all those people, it's all my fault! I was just kidding myself thinking I could ever do anything good! Please," Gohan begged, "send me to Hell and erase my soul—I just can't take anymore of this!"
Yemma didn't know what to say, finally, after several seconds of looking down into the huddled child's pleading eyes, he managed, "Anymore of what?"
Gohan seemed at a loss for words for a moment, then gazing up into the red man's eyes, he captured it. "Existing."
Yemma didn't know how to handle this. Finally, he shook his head and said gently, "I'm sorry, but I can't send you to Hell."
These simple words seemed to send the child into a kind of emotional Hell, as he curled up on the floor and was wracked with heaving sobs.
Yemma looked up in shock as someone else appeared in the room beside his desk. He was relieved to see that it was the boy's father, Goku, along with King Kai.
Yemma looked on as Goku knelt at the shaking boy's side, and gently lifted him into his arms.
Looking up at the King of the Underworld, Goku held his shivering son close to his chest. Goku felt a coldness that he'd never felt before as he addressed Yemma. "You'd better make sure you keep Frieza safe down there in Hell, Yemma," Goku hissed between his teeth, cradling Gohan closer, "If I ever get hold of him again, I'm going to make your Hell seem like a Paradise."
With these words, Goku stalked from the room, followed closely by King Kai. The only sign that they had been there at all was the sound of Gohan's heart wrenching sobs as they retreated down the long hall, and into Otherworld.
***Dodges flying vegetables. ::yelps:: this isn't the end, this isn't the end! I did mention that the time limit on wishing people back has been lifted for the sake of this story, didn't I? You guys should have seen this coming, I foreshadowed it at every turn! R&R please!***