ME: Wow, major Mirai Gohan angst here people, you've been warned!
DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN DRAGONBALL Z. WELL, NOT YET ANYWAY...
ME: Ok then, let's get this thing started!
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He was dead. He was dead and he knew it. Son Gohan was too smart to try and kid himself.
He was dead.
The Androids were unstoppable, they were untouchable and they filled his very soul with fear to the point of it shattering. He couldn't defeat them. Not now. He was just another disabled, limbless victim of their insane rampage. One arm. One fucking arm! He couldn't even write anymore, never mind fight mankind's latest monster. He despised the way the cool wind billowed around him, making his empty sleeve flap in the breeze. It just reminded him of everything he'd lost. His father, his friends, his unborn brother or sister. Yeah, that's right. His mother had just found out that she was pregnant before his father had died. It was too much for her to bear, the child was lost and there was nothing he could do to save it.
But then again, that's always the way, isn't it?
He remembered how he felt when his dad was dying of the heart virus. That horrible, sickening feeling of helplessness and vulnerability had overwhelmed him. Gohan had never seen his father like that, by the end of his illness the once proud man couldn't even open his eyes without excruciating pain tearing through his body. For there was no cure to that virus, no painkiller could take away Goku's agony either. So he was forced to lie in his bed and wait for death to come, with his family and friends beside him 'till the end. Gohan had been there, tears slowly falling from his eyes and onto his father's hand, which he had clutched tightly in his own.
Goku smiled faintly in his death, and as his body slowly disappeared into Otherworld, as his cold hand melted away from Gohan's tight grasp, he could have sworn he'd heard his father's voice one more time.
"Stay strong, Gohan."
Of course, he never told anyone about this, putting it all down to his grief-stricken imagination. And as he grew older, wiser and stronger, his father was pushed further and further into the darkest reaches of his mind. He was so preoccupied in keeping himself and what remained of his friends and family alive, and training Trunks, of course. Ahh, the boy had such great potential. Born the son of a brave Saiyan prince he'd never get to meet. He would grow to become the strongest of them all one day, Gohan was sure of that.
But going back to his original chain of thought, Gohan wondered briefly if it was the universe's cruel streak, or just pure irony that he would only think of his father in the time of his own death. And how, in the time of his own death, he could only remember the worst moments about his father he could still remember. It seemed now to him that Kami was not without his own twisted sense of ironic humour afterall.
But then again, that's always the way, isn't it?
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ME: What did I tell you? Angst! Well anyway, make sure you review this.
DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN DRAGONBALL Z. WELL, NOT YET ANYWAY...
ME: Ok then, let's get this thing started!
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
He was dead. He was dead and he knew it. Son Gohan was too smart to try and kid himself.
He was dead.
The Androids were unstoppable, they were untouchable and they filled his very soul with fear to the point of it shattering. He couldn't defeat them. Not now. He was just another disabled, limbless victim of their insane rampage. One arm. One fucking arm! He couldn't even write anymore, never mind fight mankind's latest monster. He despised the way the cool wind billowed around him, making his empty sleeve flap in the breeze. It just reminded him of everything he'd lost. His father, his friends, his unborn brother or sister. Yeah, that's right. His mother had just found out that she was pregnant before his father had died. It was too much for her to bear, the child was lost and there was nothing he could do to save it.
But then again, that's always the way, isn't it?
He remembered how he felt when his dad was dying of the heart virus. That horrible, sickening feeling of helplessness and vulnerability had overwhelmed him. Gohan had never seen his father like that, by the end of his illness the once proud man couldn't even open his eyes without excruciating pain tearing through his body. For there was no cure to that virus, no painkiller could take away Goku's agony either. So he was forced to lie in his bed and wait for death to come, with his family and friends beside him 'till the end. Gohan had been there, tears slowly falling from his eyes and onto his father's hand, which he had clutched tightly in his own.
Goku smiled faintly in his death, and as his body slowly disappeared into Otherworld, as his cold hand melted away from Gohan's tight grasp, he could have sworn he'd heard his father's voice one more time.
"Stay strong, Gohan."
Of course, he never told anyone about this, putting it all down to his grief-stricken imagination. And as he grew older, wiser and stronger, his father was pushed further and further into the darkest reaches of his mind. He was so preoccupied in keeping himself and what remained of his friends and family alive, and training Trunks, of course. Ahh, the boy had such great potential. Born the son of a brave Saiyan prince he'd never get to meet. He would grow to become the strongest of them all one day, Gohan was sure of that.
But going back to his original chain of thought, Gohan wondered briefly if it was the universe's cruel streak, or just pure irony that he would only think of his father in the time of his own death. And how, in the time of his own death, he could only remember the worst moments about his father he could still remember. It seemed now to him that Kami was not without his own twisted sense of ironic humour afterall.
But then again, that's always the way, isn't it?
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
ME: What did I tell you? Angst! Well anyway, make sure you review this.