Wash it away.
Wash away all evidence of the former helplessness. Gohan's goal. Or, more specifically, he would settle to remove the coppery taste of blood from his mouth, scrub it off his face, and remove its dark crusty build up that had formed under his nose. And then return to the camp--it's members, anyway--as quickly as possible.
There was a battle to be won. A fight to win. A confrontation to face. Preparations--collectively thought of as The Plan--had to be met. The Tahch-jin fortress had to be infiltrated. Therein, the main computer had to be found, therein broken into. This accomplished, a single, extraordinary change had to be made to a specific program.
And then he would be ready. Ready for the final showdown. Ready to fight. Ready to win. Ready to kill. And kill some more. He was prepared. The Tahch-jin had to die.
His jaw was tight, his eyes ablaze, his heart beating savagely in his chest. He was no coward. Oh, Tousan, he was not. And he was going to prove it. The Le'Armont brothers stood between him and the safety of Chikyuu, Earth, his home, his sancuary, his sanity. Confront, fight, kill....
A deep pool of water lay at his feet. The previous day's rain had filled a heavy depression in the rocky ground, and even now more trickling, giggling water was feeding the growing pond, homeless water, finding its final resting place under the blazing sky.
It felt good to remove his boots. Even better to strip off the body suit. Removing the gauze wrap from his leg, he decided that it just felt good to be free of all cloth restraints. Felt good, in essence, to be naked.
Standing at the water's edge, the sun reflecting off his pale bare skin, he finally remembered to check the stitches on his leg. They were, as expected, ruined. The rain had long since soaked through his body suit, its moisture compromising the strength of the dissolvable threads; the pain-stakingly careful job the boy had done sewing his leg back together again had gone to hell; no longer capable of performing it's function, holding the fleshy hole together.
But then again, the stitching was also no longer needed.
By use of his rapid metabolism and ever astounding Saiya-jin healing, the worst of the damage had already begun to repair itself. Four days of reasonable rest and recovery had been the sort of condition he'd needed.
Still, a puckered red scar remined, flecked with a stubbornly deep crust of scab; it would be a good month before it was completely healed. But this would do. This would have to do. There was no other way.
Sitting down, noting through his bare skin the warmth of the stone as it baked under the sun, he stretched his legs before him, his knees flat against the ground. He pointed his toes, testing the muscles in both his legs, taking care to specifically remark on the give and pull of his torn left leg. He rotated his feet at the ankles, his back erect, until his toes gradually angled to point sky-ward, then, still slowly, noncomitally, they rotated yet more, until they reached their anatomical limit, pointing back up his legs, toward the rest of his body. His tail lay parallel to the ground behind him, remaining cooperationally still.
His left calf was whispering warnings to him, the muscle threatening to tear and reopen if pushed too far. He breathed deeply in, then, as he exhaled, he forced his body to relax, the muscles in his legs to loosen, until the ripping feeling in his not-yet-mended leg faded into an antagonistic hum in the background of his senses.
With a final exhalation, he leaned inward, over his legs, arms outstretched before him, his fingers reaching.
The heels of his palms landed on his toes, his hands wrapping over the ball of his foot until his fingers rested on the inner arches of his feet.
His wound could not take it.
With a yelp, his leg spazmed, bucking upward, bending his leg and breaking the concentration of the stretch. Just couldn't take it. Not yet, anyway. Given time, perhaps he could work it back into shape, but not now. It was just too severe.
It struck him as odd, all of the sudden, that nearly two weeks ago--he wasn't exactly sure how he'd been on Aeesu--Kami Larkas had just healed him from thirteen years of physical pain and hardships. Yet, here he was now, and he'd nearly completely made up for lost damages and added to the panorama he familiarly refered to as pain.
Wasting time again. Vegita-san's right. You think too much.
In a sudden haste, he entered the water, submerging his body up to his head, and scrubbing as tenderly at the rainbow of colors blooming in spectacular hues across his arms and torso and, though he couldn't see it, face. Ugly splashes of color. Blue and purple and green and yellow and red and murky brown and, in some special places, black.
Bruises were great mood wreckers.
He redressed, ignoring the pain it put apon his body, and, as he finished tying his boots, decided putting it off would help nothing. He stood, shook a few droplets of water from his hair, stretched his arms out at his sides a moment, snapped his tail loudly behind him, then began his trek back to the awaiting party.
Ready as he ever would be.
------------------------
"-can't take this anymore, brother, I just can't." Joru Le'Armont was speaking, a thin indention of sincerity creasing his brow, "I won't stay here anymore. I'm going back to the Underground. It's too wild out here. Too dirty. Too...uncontrolled."
The two of them stood at the window of the capsule house, side by side, both their gazes observing, though not really seeing, the din of movement coming from the rows of army-style navy blue tents, Aeesu-jin and other, stranger creatures mulling through their unknown activities whilst waiting for the first ten search parties--seeking the Saiya-jin boy and his accomplices-- to return and be replaced with fresher parties.
"I understand." Henning said quietly. He had seen it coming. Joru, the sensitive one, had always harbored this unwanton fear of the great outdoors. Not just fear but even hatred. Loathing. The disorderliness, the random acts of spontaneous, inexplainable happenings... It all, so obvious for Henning's sensitive eye to see, rubbed the gentler brother the wrong way. Grated at his nerves. Made him uneasy. "I'm impressed you stayed with me as long as you have."
As Joru sagged with unspeakable relief--he'd been afraid his brother would force him to stay--and watched two large Aeesu-jin carrying a yet unerected tent, he failed to notice Henning grinning. Failed to notice the glee his sibling felt that he would no longer have to restrain himself from his impulses, from more aggressively pursuing the object of his desire. His desire. Little Saiya-jin Gohan, with his soft tail and smooth skin. His narrow wrists and pointed chin.
"Do you want me to prepare an escort?" Henning asked.
Joru smiled openly, enjoying his brother's sudden concern. A shake of his head, "No. Thank you. I've already had one assembled."
"Right, then," Henning said, embracing his brother in an surprising gesture of affection--he was in a frightfully good mood--, "You're in command of the Fortress. Think you can handle it?"
And so the two spoke back and forth in the friendliest of manners, Joru never noticing Henning leading him toward the door more and more with each word. And when they finally seperated outside, Joru going with a body of four Aeesu-jin and two other aliens of the hairy kind, to return to the Tahch-jin fortress, Henning was all-out leering in a way Joru failed to understand.
He was just glad to see Joru leave.
He had so hoped to get some alone time once Gohan was returned to him.
------------------------
Seated on a large stone, Forester at his side and Eesei happily draped across his lap--against her father's wishes--Gohan took strength from his allies. He kept his chin raised, displaying the bruises on his face fearlessly, as though he adored every last discoloration. Wore them with pride.
Before him, awaiting to hear the now enfamed plan he had, stood Sunow, Freeza and Garlic--but the latter two meant nothing to him. His eyes were blank when he met their gaze. He was really talking to Sunow, and Sunow alone. The Aeesu-jin's open face, his ruby eyes encouraging, his head nodding in acknowledgement or agreeance... He was a life saver. That, and Bojack was no where in sight. His missed presence went without comment, though all noticed.
Gohan spoke better than he could have hoped. Explaining his intention before he even voiced his plan, hoping to avoid the questions that could lead to opposition--words like "why" for instance. He told them the incredible asset they could gain by following along, though he made it quietly enough to avoid sounding smug.
"-and so all we really need to do now is split into groups." He said in hemi-conclution, raising his eyebrows to express that he was now open to questions. He braced himself for the worst.
"Why split up?" was what Garlic asked, tugging at one of his ear lobes in half-masked consideration. He didn't want to seem too enthused, but he didn't want to be counted as opted out, either. He was anxious. Ready for action. He'd been patiently idle, but with action just waiting, he was eager to do it.
"I don't know how big the Tahch-jin fortress is," Gohan said, running a hand partway through his hair nerviously before he stopped himself, "In order to find the main computer, we'll need to be able to search for it in as little time as possible."
He hoped that didn't sound ill-prepared. He needed these people to have faith. Needed them to believe all would go according to plan. That's how it's supposed to be! Things are always supposed to go according to plan. His palms were sweaty, and he rubbed them against the legs of his body suite. Oh, he was nervious.
"How many groups?" Sunow asked, leaning forward to hear--the boy spoke so softly!
"I only was able to make two communicators...," again the boy felt a pang of ill preparation, but he squelched it. He had worked with what he had. That was all that mattered. "Two groups. That'll have to do."
"Who goes in which group?" Forester spoke up from behind Gohan, his voice slightly strained. He had a bad feeling he was going to be left out of the opperation.
An expectant silence spread between the group, all of their eyes waiting Gohan's decistion. His face was a few shades lighter. A thrill of fear. He hadn't thought about that. Who would be needed in each group?
"Only Sunow or I would be able to actually break into the computer once we find it, so we'll start the split there." He half-closed his eyes in thought, gave a miniscule shake of his head, rubbed his fingers into the irritating knot in his back, then said, finally, "And each team would need someone who knows how to read chi. To avoid trouble and give an early warning for on-coming danger."
"I guess I'm with the Aeesu-jin, then," Garlic said, tilting his head at Sunow for a fraction of a second. He felt so very uncomfortable working with people rather than telling them what to do... yet somehow, he found it almost fun. Like playing war. He'd never played when he was little. His father had seen to that.
"Then it's just me and the gaki," Freeza murmered, crossing his arms and closing his eyes.
"I don't know...," Gohan nibbled his lip, "Between Garlic and Sunow, I don't think they could hold off even one Aeesu-jin if trouble does happen..."
"What about me?" Forester interupted, looking from one person to another, "Which group am I in? Papa's or Gohan's?"
"Forester...," Sunow said, studying the ground.
"Papa...," Forester's adolescent voice was accusably pleading, "I have to go."
"Me, too!" Eesei crowed from her perch on Gohan's lap, "I'm goin' too! I gotta, jus' like For'ster said!"
"No," Forester quickly said, "You can't. You're way too little-"
Gohan interrupted, "So she would have to stay here all alone? Unprotected? Unwatched? Henning is still out there-"
"But...," Forester strangled out, attempting to counter but fairing poorly, "Well, she could... there's always....," at that time, he realized he would have to stay. He could plead someone else to stay and watch his sister, but... well, everyone else was needed. Papa and Gohan had to break into the computers. Garlic was needed to sense the chi and keep Papa safe. Freeza.... wouldn't. He sighed in resignation. "I understand. Eesei needs me."
Eesei made a sound and leapt from Gohan's lap like a spider monkey, wrapping herself around her brother, "I was scared," she said, "that you were gonna leave me, For'ster. I was scared an' didn't want you to leave me. I don' really wanna go, but..." She sniffled.
The young Aeesu-jin boy sighed and patted her back, his tail touching hers then wrapping around her, holding her tight, "I won't leave you."
"Ah, Gohan?" Sunow drew the attention back to the mission at hand, "I'm not very good at hacking into computers..."
Gohan exhaled, "It's just numbers if you break it down enough. It's like a tightly woven rope, just keep unwiding it until you're down to just one hair, then break in. Numbers. Math."
He was so very grateful Bulma-san had taught him just how to break the coding of even the most elaborately tight files. Just numbers. Mathematics. That was what made it great.
He was good with numbers. Had been since he'd first learned to count at five months, his skills being nurtured by his mother at even that tender age. Numbers were so very good to him. They were consistant. They made sense. They didn't kill each other or get angry. They didn't have chi, didn't destroy planets, didn't want revenge and didn't feel pain. Numbers were trustworthy. Consistant. They always worked out the way they were supposed to.
Sunow was still nervous, "I know all that... but I'm not very good at keeping so many numbers in my head."
Gohan smiled reassuringly, "That's one of the reasons I constructed the communicators. If you find the main computer first, I'll be able to help you through it until I find you."
"Where are the communicators?" Freeza asked mildly, hiding his curiosity. He hadn't had a chance to see them up close before.
"Just a minute," Gohan said, rising from the rock he was seated on, "I'll get them."
He left the congretation of unlikely allies to return to the shallow cave he'd constructed the previous night, suddenly getting this horrendous premonition that the tin tool box containing the communicators would be gone. But it wasn't. It was exactly where he'd left it, sitting in the shadows against the stone, out of the sun.
He drew it forth into the sunlight, popping it open to discover the undisturbed objects into which he had devoted so much time. He collected them out and stood, fitting one into his own ear, bending the earwire around the back of his ear to secure it, extending the antenna, running his finger along it to make sure it wasn't obstructive.
He was actually smiling. A quiet, almost distraght smile.
"We're actually going to do it," he said to himself, fingering the second communicator nerviously, "We're going to go."
"Go where?" Bojack's voice said behind him.
Gohan spun to find the Biraju-jin leaning over him, so close he could see small droplets of water dripping of his prominant blue chin. The giant must have been getting a drink. That was where he had been. The boy shied away from him two steps.
Gohan felt cold inside. He wasn't fearless, he just didn't feel fear. He felt nothing, really, except repelled at the obviousness of Bojack's antagonization.
He lifted his head and met the Biraju-jin's eyes.
Uncaring if his next actions got him beaten or killed or worse, he raised a hand, four fingers held up.
He lowered a finger.
One. The first day. Passed.
Then he lowered a second.
Two days already gone.
Then a third.
The third day had vanished as well, slipping away like morning fog.
A profound silence filled the air as both Gohan and Bojack's eyes were captivated on that one hand, that one finger, the full intensity of the situation causing the internal fire within the boy to only burn brighter.
That one, final finger wavered.
The last day. Tick tock. Tick tock tick tock. Ticktockticktockticktock....
The fourth and final finger lowered.
The boy's thumb curled under his palm, completeing a fist.
"Times up," Gohan said, "Four days have gone by. It's time to go."
Rolling the communicator in his hand, he turned his back on Bojack and began to return to the awaiting group. He stopped when a large blue hand fell heavily on his shoulder, stopping him.
"Don't play games with me," the Biraju-jin hissed from behind him. The boy's body stiffened as the knuckles of Bojack's other hand brushed over his tail threateningly, teasingly. But then he roughly releasing the boy's shoulder and took a step back.
Gohan exhaled, straightened his shoulders, and turned to meet the blue giant's gaze, "This is no game." His tail slid around his waist protectively, only the very end twitching his anxiety, and he covered the distance to Sunow and the others, hesitation burned from his face. He could be afraid later.
No time now. Never the time.
**
In the end, Bojack agreed to accompany Sunow and Garlic, thus completeing group one, while group two consisted of only Gohan and Freeza, who complied to tolerate one another for the benefit of safety in numbers.
Now hovering just outside the mountanous door through which Gohan had escaped his Tahch-jin captivity--even he was surprised he'd remebered where it was--the five of them began to mentally prepare themselves for the task. They would need stelth. Speed. Wit.
Sunow now wore the second communicator, and had turned it on. He was jittery. He worried for his kids. But he was going to do this. He was. He had to.
Gohan had removed the metal panel next to the door and was messing with connected wires until the door suddenly swished open.
They entered.
Well, Gohan m'boy, you scared?
No...not yet at least.
Internally, Gohan was laughing. Externally, his pale face was set in a sterner mold. At the first fork in the hall, he nodded once to Sunow the two groups split up, half-running down each hall, their eyes honed, their ears listening for the sound of footsteps.
His Saiya-jin instincts were creeping suspictiously closer to the top of his reflexes.
Time to do this.