Author's Notes: Well, took me long enough to get going on this chapter, and I'm here to say, "Sorry!" I've been SO busy with Parable of the Eagle and my new fic You Can Never Go Back it's not even funny—but it's a GOOD kind of busy, one I like! Anyway, enough of my rambling, and on with the chapter!
Last time on It's a Start
"I don't love you, Videl Satan," he repeated coldly, just in case she hadn't heard him the first time. "I can't love you…not you…"
*****
As if reading her thoughts as they stumbled through her consciousness, he breathed out huskily into her ear in a voice so not his own, "Do you understand…how easy it would be for me to kill you, right now…? How little effort it would require for me to just…snuff out your life, so to speak?"
*****
He should…let her die? Let her just die?! How, how could he ask that of him? How could he even suggest that course of action?
*****
It really was him in there, his hands snapping her bones like dry timber, his elbow severing her spinal cord, his eyes…watching her watching him, full of fear and confusion, anger, acceptance that yes, she was about to die, killed by the one she would have spent a lifetime with.
*****
"I'm sorry for killing her. But I will not be sorry for killing you, Babidi. Prepare yourself."
It was gone, lost. They had relinquished their one and only bargaining chip—the girl. It was their solid and well-founded certainty that her imminent danger would force the brat to yield to their demands which had given them hope of winning the war. But now it was as good as lost on their side. With the girl dead, what could they dangle over the boy now? For what reason should he comply now? Where had they miscalculated, where?!
At the demi-Saiyan's bold statement, laced with startling finality, Babidi's blood turned to ice in his veins, and his foul heart—he would swear—stopped beating in his chest. All time seemed to slow to a crawl and everything just stopped.
Everything except Gohan.
He stepped forward, one foot at a time, in no particular rush or hurry anymore, the only sound filling the air the steady crunch of gravel beneath boots. Not with youthful rashness did he approach, but with the slow measured pace of a seasoned warrior—as an executioner stepping up to the chopping block, axe in hand.
Keeping a careful eye trained on his destroyer, the wizard took a nervous step backwards, nearly tripping over his own cloak; Gohan, though, merely turned his head, paying no heed to the pathetic attempt at delaying a predestined death. Instead he diverted his attentions to the being who now stood a few feet to the right of Babidi, who was also shying away from the demi-Saiyan following his abrupt attitude change: the South Kai.
He halted his steps, facing the Kai fully now, and a smirk somehow managed to work its way over his lips, oddly out of place, inducing fresh tremors to wrack the god's body. But he was a kai, a kai—making an effort to retain some modicum of respect before such an obviously stronger opponent, the deity forced himself to stand up straight, staring what he was assured was death square in the face.
The storm had long since abated, with a fine mist still hanging in the air in some places, and in the distant east mountain peaks jutted up into the sky, gilded with gold, warning of the swiftly approaching dawn. The rain had washed away the old world, and the sun would shine on a new future: but not yet, not until Gohan had disposed of the last of the refuse.
"…You betrayed us all, Kai," came a surprisingly calm voice—Gohan's voice in fact. "You sold yourself for power, Kai—no, no, merely for the candy-coated promise of power…and look where it's led you." He leaned forward and peered over the rim of the dark glasses, gazing into the wide fearful eyes shaking in their sockets. "You would have stood by his side gladly while the rest of the universe fell to his whim—you would have seen me dead…" The last bit was said a bit more forcefully, driving home the fact that the tables had turned. The god made a feeble attempt to dispel the belief by shaking his head, straining to argue the point, but Gohan merely chuckled darkly and closed his eyes. "Come now, no more lies, Kai…"
Slowly, barely perceptibly, his right hand lifted from his side, with the god looking on in morbid curiosity overlaid with fear, eyes unable to focus on anything else—what would the boy do now? The others could only play the role of audience to the display between demi-Saiyan and deity, so enthralled in the execution were they.
Kibito and the Supreme Kai watched with worried eyes more than anything: Had their pleas gotten through, would Gohan win now? He was certainly taking his time, that much was clear—but it didn't appear that Babidi had any leverage left. They pondered for a moment jumping in to stop the display before silently agreeing to allow it to continue.
Raising his palm to eye level, Gohan laid it gently on the Kai, resting it squarely on the great pink forehead. His eyes remained closed, now twitching every now and then, and his mouth curved into a frown.
Perhaps it was because of the recent power-up he'd gained from fusing. Perhaps it was one of the perks of being a half-breed. Perhaps it was because this being cowering underneath his palm was a kai—whatever the reason, it startled him quite significantly, jarred all his senses, when the moment he made contact, flesh to flesh, images began to flood his mind in a deluge of sensory input.
Everything the kai had done, experienced, felt, lived through, everything for hundreds upon countless thousands of years all burned into his mind, searing his consciousness like a hot poker. He was being branded, too much information, too much! It actually hurt…
Then, oh then her…he saw her! But saw her not through his own eyes, but saw her as the South Kai had seen her. Saw him conversing on numerous occasions with Babidi, plotting on how best to ease the resurrection of Majin Buu, felt him conclude that she was the one: the one to bring Son Gohan to his knees. Saw—
Saw something else. Saw something new that made his heart freeze, and crack into a million million tiny shards, scattered about and blown by the wind.
"M…Mother…?" His voice was so low he didn't even know if any sound had come out, just felt the way her name formed on his dry lips. None beyond himself and the South Kai heard the utterance.
He saw her bruised and bloodied body hanging limp before him, all her warrior-like grace gone, no life in her eyes, suspended by her head clutched in his own grip—no, in the kai's grip. Blessedly unconscious, this didn't stop her from screeching in pain as her mind was snapped back to this plane when the hand holding her head gave a quick squeeze, followed by the sickening crack of bone splitting.
He didn't even realize that his eyes were open, now boring through the god's dark glasses, wide and angry with deadly intent mingled with realization. His voice rose from a soft whisper, "You killed her…you killed her…you killed her! YOU—"
The kai opened his mouth to beg once more, but no words came out as his body withered away into dust, disintegrating into not even so much as a fine powder by the heat and fury of the Saiyan' s tightly honed blast.
Gohan jerked back, a bit surprised at his own actions; he hadn't meant to kill him. Not yet at least. He'd wanted to play a bit, play, just like with Cell. Except this wouldn't be like Cell, because this one couldn't hurt him anymore. No not anymore.
not anymore, I won't let you hurt me
One down… but the other one…the other one he would not let off so easily…
South Kai… South Kai was gone! Nothing was left—and from what he'd seen, the boy before him hadn't even put forth a minimal amount of effort to dispatch him! Simply… willed the god from existence!
'No, no…no—nononononononnono!' he screamed in his mind, 'He's coming! For me! For me!' Babidi's mouth hung open ungracefully, allowing a terrified squeal or squeak to escape every few seconds, teeth chattering. Gohan was still standing a few feet away, leaning forward and blinking at the dark spot on the ground that had once been the South Kai. After a moment of indecision, he pulled himself back straight once again.
Turning almost lazily to the wizard, he smiled at the tiny man trembling with trepidation. The sun rising steadily behind him cast his face in deep shadow as he made his way slowly yet surely to face Babidi. When a mere foot of space separated the two, he crouched down on one knee, placing himself at eye level with his enemy.
"I'll bet you wish," he began unhurriedly, drawing out the speculation, "that you'd never started any of this now… that you'd never gotten involved with the Earth in any way, huh?" He absently fingered the long orange cloak draped over the bony yellow frame. "Or maybe you just wish you'd never tested me…" He released the fabric.
"No, boy," Babidi snarled in his face after taking a moment to gather his courage to speak, defiant to the end, "I don't wish any of that—merely that my plans had come to fruition, free from little obstacles like yourself. If we're indulging in hind sight here, why lie? Nothing can ever make me regret any of the choices I made, don't you see? Your stupid innocence blinds you…"
Frowning, Gohan silently accepted what the little monster said: it was true, he couldn't force him to regret, to feel sorry for his choices…He stood back up, towering once more over Babidi. But… what now? What should he do with him? Kill him, yes…kill him for sure—in a thousand different ways, to have him tortured for eternity, if that could be managed—but how?
Slow, quick. Messy, clean. Primitive, efficient. So many choices… yet none seemed to be capable of satisfying the blood-thirst coursing through Gohan's veins. He wanted this little demon to pay for all the lives he'd affected, all the pain he'd caused—for all the pain he would have caused. To feel the pain he felt, to writhe under the agony of knowing that absolutely nothing could be done to avoid death, to feel his heart shredded to pieces as all that was near and dear to him shattered…
To feel…
"Supreme Kai," he called out suddenly but firmly, an idea forming in his mind, beckoning the god over. "I wish to ask something of you, sir."
A confused expression flitted across the deity's face, and he cast a questioning glance up to his servant. Kibito, though, merely returned the look, equally perplexed. Regardless, they made their way over to the warrior, coming to rest at his side. "…Gohan?" He didn't turn to look at either one. "What is it?" Three pairs of eyes were tightly focused on the demi-Saiyan now, all hanging on what he would say next.
Softly he began, "Can you…Sir, can you make him feel…?"
Even more confused, the kai's brows furrowed. "Feel? What do you mean, feel?"
Turning, Gohan explicated. "Feel, sir. I wish him to feel. To understand, comprehend, realize… what true pain is."
The kai's eyes as well as Babidi's widened. "Wha—what are you saying Gohan? Are you… are you not going to destroy him?" His voice reached a frenzied pitch from confusion. Why was he waiting?!
Gohan narrowed his gaze, frustrated, averting his attentions from the kai back to Babidi, who now stared at him in a curious mix of worry, anger, and fear. They didn't understand—none of them. "He is still irreverent—I want him to feel first. Feel all the fear, the pain, the anger, the sadness I have had to deal with for the past decade of my life. Loss, self-doubt, regret, sorrow—I want it for him, Kai… for he will not die by my hand until he feels."
The Supreme Kai ran the boy's declaration over in his head, still unsure of his motives—perhaps it was some sort of revenge for what Babidi did to the girl, he couldn't be sure. But if he said he was going to destroy him… After a moment he nodded his assent, sending his hulking servant forward to do the job. A disgusted look crossed Kibito's face, as if he found the idea of being close to Babidi distasteful. Rather than stepping closer, he merely extended a hand in the wizard's direction, palm first, and sent a rush of energy flaring up around the cowering form.
Babidi jerked his head around in horror—though fairly confident he wasn't about to die—as a white aura engulfed him, and he scrambled to his feet to flee the group. His escape, however, was halted as Gohan stepped on the hem of his cape, sending him sprawling to the ground in a heap.
A final angry yell from Kibito, then all was quiet and still, the aura evaporating from existence and the dust settling back to the earth. The pink giant lowered his arm and gazed on in wonder and curiosity—what now? His master was entertaining the same thoughts, but neither spoke as of yet.
"…Thank you, Kibito," Gohan uttered quietly, acknowledging his work for the first time. No response was returned, nor was it expected. All thoughts and gazes remained fixed on the prone figure lying motionless on the ground before them. After a moment, Gohan turned away from the group and began marching to the manhole cover marking the ship's entrance.
"Wait—Gohan!" the Supreme Kai called his retreating figure, startled at his sudden departure, and he halted. "Babidi… will you dispatch him now?"
He began walking again, tossing back, "Soon…after he feels… after he learns what it's like…"
The ship's interior was as cold and dark as its master, with runway-style floor lights serving as the only illumination, marking accessible pathways. Upon reaching the first level having descended the ladder from the surface, Gohan took a moment to half-heartedly search out Videl's ki. Not surprisingly his search turned up nihil, and he began to traipse down the main corridor, a long empty hallway.
After five hundred or so feet, the passageway dead-ended in a round chamber, dotted with five doors: two on either side of an impressive steel-laden entrance—most likely an elevator. Closing his eyes he strained to recall the pithy outline of the ship given to him prior to setting out for the battle…
"His cloaking technology is decidedly minimal, so he has resorted to hiding the craft underground, safe from possible human sighting. A single shaft leads from the surface to the first level and the main corridor, which in turn leads to the elevator shaft. From there all levels of Babidi's ship can be accessed. Buu will most likely be hidden in one of the lowest, most secure levels."
He eyed a button panel to the right of the steel doors, labeled in an alien script, and ran a finger over each of the four choices. Following logic he pressed the bottom button, and the doors gave a faint whir before opening with a hiss. Stepping through, the doors slid back shut after a moment, and he leaned against the far wall of the chamber as it descended into the bowels of the ship.
He barely had a moment to breathe when the entry doors slid open once more, and he stepped out into a large room. This one was just as dark as the entryway above, but a faint pink glow in the corner illuminated what appeared to be a large throbbing ball of some sort.
So, this was Buu? Or more than likely, this was Buu's container… He gingerly stepped over to it, circling it a few times before laying a sweaty palm on the hulking mass: warm, full of life, energy…waiting to be reborn…
"I would have liked to have had the chance to fight you, Buu…perhaps another time…" Retracting his hand, he retreated into the darkness.
It was time to find Videl.
Though seemingly simple in design, exuding no signs of its inner intricacy, Babidi had certainly not been bluffing when he'd said his ship was a maze inside. Hours had passed since he'd entered, and still Gohan was tearing through room after room in search of her body. The lack of a ki signature certainly didn't help his pursuit any.
The first floor had been nothing but the main chamber with Buu's ball. The second, he'd discovered, was composed of hundreds of lab environments, housing various experiments carelessly abandoned by their originators—was this really Babidi's personal ship? Deep down, Gohan was beginning to suspect that the wizard had merely hijacked it somewhere during his space travels.
The third level—his current level, just below the one he'd entered on—appeared to be rows and rows of cell blocks. Inspection of these was facilitated by the barred window on each door, and he had but to take a quick peek to determine whether or not she was inside.
On this level his pace—and heartbeat—quickened. He could almost feel her nearing, not quite there yet…But it was not until reaching the second chamber from the end that his search came to fruition. There, lying on the floor in the middle of the room, limp and lifeless, was his Videl.
At least, he assumed it was she, for the horrific combination of the poor lighting and the sickly blue-black bruises dotting her form had rendered her nearly unrecognizable. His heart skipped a few beats as once more he reached out for her energy, thoughts tightly focused on the body before him.
Nothing. No energy, no breath, no steady rise and fall of the chest, no batting of the eyelids, no life.
He stepped into the chamber from his post at the doorway as if twenty-ton weights were strapped to the soles of his boots—it seemed each forward movement required his whole concentration. He drew in air with measurable difficulty, eyes running along what had once been to him the most perfect figure in the world.
She had… she had no shape. Merely a crumpled bag of flesh and organs, inhuman to the eye. Her formerly shapely legs splayed out in unnatural directions, as did her delicate arms, and her pupil-less eyes were wide open in horror, staring blankly ahead, washed over with her own blood which seeped onto the floor from her crushed skull.
Nimbly, he stepped around the gore, still surveying her with morbid fancy. He had done this…he had done this to her…He could practically still feel her bones snapping easily in his powerful grip, could hear her halting cry.
What had it been like, he wondered. Her last moments—as her skull finally caved to the pressure—what had she done, what had she been thinking of? Had she died…with his name on her lips? It almost gave him a kind of immortality to think that way.
Hesitantly he squatted down onto his haunches and bent forward, running a trembling finger over her lips as if actually searching for whether or not his name was imprinted there. Finding nothing, he stood again and positioned both hands above her prone form. Closing his eyes, he whispered, prayer-like, a nearly silent, "I'm sorry…" and willed her away. This was all the effort it took, and the corpse vanished in the same flash of light as the South Kai.
Silently, emotionlessly, he ascended back to ground level, gaze unfocused, staring blankly ahead. He paid no attention, as he heaved his weight up from the shaft, to the fact that Buu's prison seemed to somehow have moved from the lowest level of the ship to the surface, nor did he notice that Babidi was still unconscious—yet breathing—and was now being held by the neck in Kibito's tight grasp.
The Supreme Kai approached him once more, asking nothing of his extended absence, and looked up expectantly, as if to say, "Well?" The question that would follow Gohan already knew: Will you kill him now?
Gohan's eyes traveled slowly from the kai to Babidi to Buu's prison—no longer glowing or pulsing—and he sighed. "Not yet…" was the weak answer to the unasked question. "First…the Dragonballs."
Shin's mouth fell open in shock—had the boy just said what he thought he'd said?—and the demi-Saiyan began to walk away briskly. Quickly snapping out a hand before he retreated from his reach, he gripped Gohan's wrist firmly, regaining his undivided attention. "…Dragonballs? You're worried about wishes at a time like this?! Enough! Enough of this waiting—this—this feeling you speak of. Babidi is sitting right there, completely helpless! I can't comprehend why you would not ki—"
More swiftly than the eye could follow, Gohan had turned on his heel and was in the kai's face. "Because he is completely helpless—that is why, sir." The condescending tone he'd taken when fully Saiyan was back, and the deity's gaze darkened. "You will understand later."
"Gohan, apparently you do not fully realize the urgency of the situation—how close Babidi was to reviving Buu, you've seen for yourself! Now, there will be time enough for reunions after this monster has been destr—"
"No—" he interrupted, voice low yet deadly serious. "I think you do not understand… I just found out, Supreme Kai, that even gods can die…" Though no verbal threat was directly made, the impact of his declaration was made visible through the slight widening of Shin's eyes. "…We will revive her—and my mother—first…Then I'll deal with your monster." He leaned back and turned to walk away.
Recovering quickly from the shock, the god straightened up, calling out shortly, "Perhaps I should dispatch him then."
Gohan stopped, not turning back this time. "Do as you wish, sir. I won't stop you. But this I promise: I will take care of him…after he feels. Don't doubt me; I've never given you reason to." He continued forward after this for a few more feet before leaping into the air with a burst of energy, a white aura exploding around him, bound for Kami's lookout.
Bulma Briefs cursed aloud as the luminescent grid on the green background faded in and out—a frayed wire the ultimate culprit—and diverted her eyes from the airspace directly ahead of her for a moment to sharply thump the side of the Dragon-radar. The screen blinked a few times before beaming back to life, and she smiled as the four-star ball popped into view.
"Perfect…last one…" she muttered to no one, and performed a few low fly-bys in her jet copter to ascertain the ball's location. After a not-so-gentle landing, she left the engine running and quickly hopped from the pilot's seat, eagerly digging around in the nearest sand dune.
"Says it should be right about…aah!" Her fingers slid over a particularly smooth rock a few inches below the sand, and she gently brushed off what little dirt hadn't been blown away by her plane. Pocketing the bauble with its six twins, she smiled contentedly to herself and hopped back in, closing the hatch.
Krillin and the others lived too far away to be bothered, and she hadn't wanted to involve Goten or Trunks in this just yet—fearful of the reason the balls were needed—so Bulma had been forced to go on this "adventure" alone. It almost felt like old times again—except no Goku this time, and rather than taking months, the deed had been completed in under a day, facilitated by the fact that all but two of the balls had been hidden relatively close to each other.
Sighing, she set the auto-pilot coordinates for the Lookout and leaned back, closing her eyes.
"They're coming," Piccolo's gruff voice announced suddenly after hours of silence pervading the Lookout.
All eyes snapped to him, and Vegeta barked quickly, "Who—the brat and Kai? But why would—"
"They're going to summon the dragon from here. Gohan plans to use the wishes to revive Videl and—I would assume—his mother as well."
So, the brat's mate was dead? Figured…"But the Dragonaba—"
"Bulma is on her way here with them now; she's currently passing Korin's tower." He turned to the seething prince with a smirk. "Couldn't you sense her?"
Vegeta exploded at the second interruption, "Blast you, Namek! Let me speak!" The Lookout grew quiet as the grave again, the only sound the agitated huffing of Vegeta, eyes blazing in anger as they were wont to do. "And of course I could've sensed her if I'd thought to do it—thank you." He recovered quickly from the outburst and re-crossed his arms over his sculpted chest.
Dende stepped forward, eyes darting from the elder Namek to Vegeta and back, gauging the exchange between the two cautiously, and spoke up hesitantly, "Piccolo—how do you… how do you know all that?"
He looked over at the young guardian, no longer smirking, but wearing quite a serious expression, apparently not pleased with the answer to the question. "I've been in contact with the Supreme Kai ever since he left with Gohan and Kibito—they left Babidi's ship not five minutes ago and are well on their way up here as we speak. Apparently Gohan had already informed Bulma of the need for the Dragonballs earlier, which would explain why they're flying straight here and why Bulma is already coming."
Dende broke into a relieved smile, "Then—they've won! They won!" Piccolo's frown didn't fade in the least, and he faltered. "…They did win, didn't they? They beat Babidi and Buu, right?"
He shook his head slowly, and all hopes plummeted. "Gohan dispatched the South Kai easily enough, but the Supreme Kai informs me that he has refused to kill Babidi." An audible intake of air passed through all the Lookout occupants, with a murmur of, "Why?" following. "He says… Gohan says that he refuses to kill Babidi until he feels… whatever that may mean to him."
They began to argue amongst themselves about Gohan's state of mind—was he really alright in the head, or had he possibly been hit with one too many Kamehamehas?—when the soft sound of chuckling from Vegeta of all people slowly silenced all comments.
"Fools… you really don't get it, do you? Why the boy won't get it over with?" He didn't need access to Gohan's thoughts to read him—the child was an open book, and a particularly bad read at that, too questioning and caring, never one to take the simplest, most direct route. "If this wizard killed his mate—which it sounds like he did after kidnapping her for bait—then he's certainly not going to kill him quickly or anything like that." On that note, who would? "He's going to take his time and make the execution as painful as possible—of that I'm sure. He may be all loyal and caring and gentle on the outside, but I know what kind of dark monster dwells inside that body—and you know of it too, Namek," he turned an eye to Piccolo.
"Cell…"
"Yes, Cell. He wanted Cell to hurt—to hurt badly for what he'd done. And he took his time back then, just like he's doing now."
"Then what of this 'feeling', Vegeta? Can you explain that just as easily?"
"Perhaps… but then that might be saying too much," he sneered, baiting his audience. Truthfully he didn't have any idea what the boy meant by that—nor did he really care. All he was hoping for was the chance to see a bit of bloodshed before the day was through. At least something to liven this place up—seven years of peace was seven years too long, if you asked him. Boring, mundane, everyday life, plodding on day after day, week after week, with no change. Give him some carnage, a little death and destruction, mayhem and chaos, anything but the sad story his life had become of late.
He actually envied Gohan for being the one to go and fight.
It should've been him. It should've.
The queries were halted with the roaring of a jet engine announcing the arrival of Bulma and the Dragonballs. The shapely scientist slipped gracefully from her pilot seat, a bulging faded brown pack slung over her shoulder. "About time you got here, woman. What'd you do, ride that scooter of yours to get the balls?"
Bulma frowned and resisted the urge to playfully stick her tongue out at her husband. "Well, maybe if I'd had a little help it wouldn't have taken so long—"
"If I remember correctly you were the one who made me come up here—"
"Ahem," Piccolo coughed, interrupting the lovers' tiff. "You have the Dragonballs, Bulma?"
She smiled, pleased. "Of course, you doubted me?" She swung the pack around and set it gently on the floor, unzipping the front pouch to reveal seven gleaming orange balls, each dotted with a different number of stars, numbering one to seven. "All seven, ready and waiting—hey, where's Gohan?" A sudden though flitted across her mind, and she paled. "He's not…de—"
"No, he's not," the elder Namek quickly cut her off. "He's on his way here with the Supreme Kai."
Bulma blanked. "…Supreme…Kai…?"
Vegeta merely smirked behind her back. "I'll explain later, woman. Leave the men to their duties now." All eyes returned to the sky, scanning the horizon for any black dots indicating inbound figures; after a moment of fruitless searching, Dende cried out and pointed far to the east, "There they are!" Slowly the three dots grew larger and larger in their fields of vision until they eventually reached normal size, alighting on the tiled floor, grim expressions on all their faces.
"I assume that," Piccolo pointed a disgusted finger at the small figure clutched in Kibito's grip, "is the wizard Babidi?" A nod confirmed his suspicion, and he turned an eye to his former pupil, now fully grown and appearing nothing like the whiny child he'd left in the wilderness all those years ago. No, now he was grown, a man, with a mission of his own which none would deter him from. Gohan stepped in front of Bulma, face blank.
"You have the Dragonballs?"
She peered at him strangely. "Yeah, they're…" She reached down to the bag, "They're right here—Gohan, what's going on? What do you need the Dragonballs for?"
He turned away—it was time to explain. "I thought I'd need them to revive me…" he confessed as he walked over to Babidi, glaring down at the still unconscious wizard. "I didn't know how I'd come out of the fight I was about to enter…"
"I'm assuming there's a 'but' to that, though, right?"
He nodded. "But… now I need them to revive my mother…and Videl." Bulma gasped, horrified—this was far worse than she could have expected. Sure, she acknowledged grimly, she'd come to accept that the men died quite frequently—it was part of the job description of "world savior," but Chichi? And Videl? The poor boy… She quickly unloaded the talismans.
"They're ready when you are, Gohan."
He smiled, for the first time in a long time, and the expression actually looked a bit out of place on the same face that had been so full of anger and gravity a moment ago, as if it was a completely separate person. "Thank you, Bulma…Dende?"
"Ah, of course, Gohan." The young guardian darted over to where the balls were gathered, now glowing and pulsing with a warm light, and extended his hands over the cache, muttering an ancient Namekian incantation to ease the release of the dragon. The noon-time sky overhead darkened to midnight black, lightning arcing in a dazzling display that never ceased to amaze those that summoned Shenron. Suddenly a flaming rope shot upwards, thickening and dying out in brilliance, until it was obvious that it was no rope, but a dragon.
"Speak your wishes," growled a deep, booming voice, daring any to be slow in stating their desires.
All attentions turned to Gohan, who stepped forward, a confident expression on his features. "Shenron, please return Son Chichi to life, bringing her back to this location!" A simple wish, quickly granted with a flash of light in the dragon's eyes. Suddenly, there was Chichi, standing—a bit confused—right before everyone on the lookout, appearing as if nothing had happened and she'd just finished a load of dishes at home. "It is done."
Gohan wanted so badly to embrace her as Bulma did that very moment, glad to have her confidante back even though she hadn't really known she was gone for very long. But there was still one final wish to attend to—one nothing would keep him from making.
"Shenron," his voice nearly cracked, "please return Videl Satan to life, bringing her back to this location!" Another flash of the dragon's eyes, and there she was, back as if nothing had happened as well. Without another word the dragon exploded in a blinding array of light, shrinking almost instantly to the size of seven small balls before shooting off in every direction to the ends of the earth, where they would lay dormant for a year, waiting to be found again.
He couldn't move, eyes fixed upon her figure as she surveyed her newly regenerated body with wonder—the body he'd completely destroyed back in Babidi's ship. Her gaze ran over her legs, up and down her arms, across her chest and stomach, and she reached trembling hands up to her face to ascertain that yes, she was alive, back from the dead! No bruises, no broken bones, no cuts, no scars, no—
"Vi…Videl…?" he breathed softly, a million emotions laced in those two syllables, and she whipped around at his voice, all wonder fleeing her features, replaced by—
Fear? Anger? Dread?
All of the above, Gohan. All of the above and more. Her reformed muscles tensed to bowstring tautness, and she instinctively raised her arms up, ready to defend herself if need be, sinking down a bit into a more comfortable fighting stance. He was about to approach her, a smile already forming on his face, when he suddenly stopped at these actions. What was she doing?
His eyes ran over her form—which, he noted distantly, left no openings—and was struck by how… "on guard" she appeared. Brow creasing in worry, he continued forward, reaching a hand out to touch her—to know she was back.
Immediately she backed up a few steps, but his stride was longer than hers, and he was quickly right there in front of her, staring down, confused fingers about to brush her skin. She let out a frightened yelp at his speed—she'd forgotten how fast he could be when he wanted, for the last time she'd seen him, he'd worked painfully slowly—and nearly tripped backwards, saved by one of his strong arms encircling her petite waist.
She stared straight into his wide black eyes for only a moment before whipping back a hand and bringing it crashing down onto his cheek with a loud slap, shocking all present save herself. She scrambled from his embrace, taking advantage of his frozen state of shock at the action.
"Don't you dare touch me… get away!"
—END CHAPTER FOURTEEN—
Post-chapter notes: Is it just me, or is Gohan tending towards a little OOC? I'm gonna work on that a bit, get him more "in character" in the next chapter--but I think he's kinda entitled to acting a little out of character at this point, if you ask me. Anyway, I tried to go for a cliffhanger, really I did, but I…well, I lack smoc powers. Anyway, I figure everyone can determine just why Videl's acting that way, but the slap kinda brought it home. And just why have I taken so long, you may ask? Two words: Comic-con. Or is that one word? I dunno, don't care. But I did have a WONDERFUL time there, got to hook up with fellow elite author Psycho Ann—lemme tell ya, she's as psycho in person as she is online! Hehee, we had a great time at the con, got a lot of talking about various fics we're working done, all in all very profitable as well as enjoyable. We took plenty of pictures and will be posting them soon online, so look for the link! Until next time—sage