Chapter VII

"Ow! Auntie Bulma stop it!"

Bulma winced; why was it that Gohan only called her that when she was hurting him or when he wanted something? It made her feel even worse for making him hurt! Still, she was the only one that could really be trusted with him or Goku. Their Saiyan blood would have made any regular doctor freak out, not to mention they'd be too baffled to help much.

Sometimes she cursed her large brains.

"I know it hurts Gohan, I'm trying to be gentle."

"It hurts!"

Goku stroked his son's dark black hair, pushing it behind his ears. "I know, little man. Bulma's trying to be fast."

Bulma looked over the boy a little more and then stopped her poking and prodding, much to the little boy's relief. He gave her a half hearted glare and crawled into his father's lap, sticking out his lower lip at her in the typical child pout. It was a look Bulma got from both father and son. With Gohan, it was his way of saying "You hurt and I'm gonna make you feel guilty until you give me a treat to make me forget how much you just hurt me."

Bulma handed the boy a sucker which he took without a word and stuck into his mouth. He gave her a grin and slurring around the sucker said "T'ank 'ou." Bulma chuckled, smiling at his innocent face and the way he seemed to forget that less than five minutes ago he was furious at her for poking and prodding him. Shaking her head, she turned and made her report to Goku.

"Well, so far, all I really see is that he's sleep and food deprived. He needs a lot of fluids and needs to take it easy for a few days. He has pretty severe sunburn but knowing you Saiyans, it shouldn't be too bad and should go away on its own in a few days. But here's some lotion for it." She handed Goku a small bottle. "Just rub that on every time he says it hurts. But you can tell ChiChi that if she even thinks of trying to make him study for the next few days, she can expect a visit from a very miffed Auntie."

Gohan remarked around the sucker, "G'other 'd'ot yu'pid. Do 'ody 'ess d'ith 'ang'wy Dan'tie."

Bulma blinked and looked up at Goku who was laughing, "Uh, translation please."

Goku ruffled Gohan's hair. "He said 'Mother's not stupid. No one messes with angry Auntie."

"How did you possibly get that from that gibberish?"

"Simple. I speak and hear the language of Gohan-with-something-in-his-mouth every day."

Bulma smirked "Well, you're right kiddo. Your mother best remember that." She smiled at her little nephew, laughing at the sticky goo that had dripped down his chin, coated his face up to the temples and coated his hands which meant that now it was in his hair because he kept pushing his bangs out of his eyes. Chuckling, she looked at Goku. "Right now, I think it'd be best if you got him a cool bath. I'm going to make up some fruit smoothies downstairs if you two want some…"

"YES!" came at her in two identical booming voices. She smirked,

"Stupid question."

Goku scooped his son up and carried him into Bulma's connecting bathroom. He set him down on his feet and ran a cool bath, using some of Bulma's bubble bath, sure the genius wouldn't mind. Gohan stood patiently, looking himself over in the mirror. He looked like a lobster! His skin had turned a dark red from the sun. No wonder it burnt so.

"C'mon little man. I know you hurt."

Gohan turned and stripped his underwear off. He had a patch of lighter skin where his underwear had been so it looked like he had on swimming trunks or something to that effect. He pouted at the marking left on his skin but grasped hold of his father's arm to help him into the tub. The cool water felt like a healing ointment right at that moment.

"Feel good, little man?"

Gohan nodded, closing his eyes, just basking in the cool feeling. He loved the cool feeling. A soft wet cloth stroked over his arms and chest and although it did ache a little, he didn't say anything. He was too exhausted to. He tried to open his eyes to help but he couldn't convince himself it was worth the effort. He ached, both physically and mentally. He wanted to sleep.

Goku smiled at his son and drenched the boy's black hair. It fell plastered to the boy's neck and shoulders and Goku scrubbed his mane of hair down with soap. The boy's head bobbed and swayed but he didn't move or open his eyes. Goku chuckled and rinsed the boy's hair out before gently cleaning down his skin, being as sensitive of his burn as he could.

Bulma struck her head in and smiled. She left a tray of smoothies on the bedside table. Knowing all too well that only Goku could get the boy to sleep, she left the two alone. She knew that Goku would make the boy sleep. Besides that, the boy looked ready to pass out anyway, despite how he tried to hide it from her and his father. Gohan was many things but a good liar was not one of them.

Hearing the door close, Goku stroked his son's locks as he worked on getting the dirt and sweat off him. He Hated seeing his son wince but he also knew he needed to get any dirt, grass or anything else off him. Thank goodness neither he nor Gohan were modest. The boy didn't reject anything Goku did. If anything, he loved it. He laid back, loving the deep comforting motions of Goku's large hands on his neck.

"Gohan, what happened? One minute you're snoozing like a baby with your mother and me and the next thing I know, you're gone. Where did you vanish to for days? It's not like you to just take off." Gohan sighed and shrugged, not out of disrespect but his silent way of saying 'tell you later.' Goku eyed his son but he decided to address it later when his son didn't hurt as much.

"Can you stand up for me, Gohan? I need to get your tail."

The boy used his father's arms to push himself up. Goku smiled and drenched the boy's brown tail in suds, being as careful as he could be, knowing all too well that too harsh scrubbing would hurt more than anything he could imagine. Gohan had more willpower over the pain than most did but he knew it was still sensitive, especially once he got down to the skin. Gohan just laughed though, saying, "Daddy! You tickle!"

"Do I, little man?" Dipping the brown tail into the water to rinse off the soap, Goku scooped the boy up from the water and held him like a baby. He moved his fingers over his son's torso, getting under his arms and neck, which made the boy squeal. He kept this up for a while before inhaling deeply and blowing it out on the boy's belly.

Gohan yelped and laughed, throwing his head back. Goku did it again, half turning the boy over and doing the same on his sides and back. Gohan kicked his legs, laughing his head off. Goku loved hearing his laugh. He'd not heard it for three days and it felt like years. That aside, he also knew that the kid needed to rest and that him playing with him would wear him out.

Sure enough after about five or ten minutes, the already tired boy was slowing down. He still laughed but not as rapidly and not as hard. Goku wrapped him in a towel, scrubbing his hair, skin and tail down. The boy hair flared out a little and his brown tail puffed out like it had been struck by lightning. Goku laughed a little and Gohan twitched his tail, pouting. He put one balled fist to one of his eyes.

"Tired, little man?" Goku rubbed his red skin down with the lotion Bulma had given him before scooping him up again and handing him the smoothie Bulma had brought up. Gohan took it in both hands and slowly nursed it. Goku walked back out and sat down in one of the rocking chairs Bulma had thoughtfully placed in the room and gently swayed the boy back and forth. Having not bothered to dress the boy, he moved his fingers down and started to massage the base of the boy's tail.

Gohan only finished half the drink, a rarity for him, and his exhausted eyes slid shut.

OOO

"Gohan! Breakfast!"

Creaking his eyes open, Gohan glanced at his clock which read about eight o'clock which was a good hour later than he usually woke up. He sat up, looking around, surprised to find himself back in his bed at home. Daddy must have carried him back. He rubbed at one of his eyes, willing the sleep out of his eyes and trying to ignore the throbbing in his entire body.

"Hey son! How do you feel?"

Gohan forced a smile to his face, "Hi Daddy."

Goku walked in and sat on his son's bed. "You slept a while. Feel better?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Great! I was starting to wonder if you'd ever wake up. You slept a whole day and night!"

"I did?"

"Yep. Figured you needed it though. Bet yer hungry though, aren't you?"

The mere thought of food was almost enough to send the boy running to the bathroom but he grinned "Aren't I always?"

"Thought so! C'mon, I'll help you dress and then your Mother's got breakfast waiting for us."

Gohan smiled widely and stood up. He could dress himself for the most part but he still had a little trouble tying the sash on his gi and if he could wear his gi from morning until evening he would. Pulling on his slacks and shirt, he wrapped the sash around his waist and then pouted as he tried to tie it closed. Goku let him try himself for a bit until the boy gave his father an exasperated look.

"Want some help, little man?"

"Yes." He scowled as his father knelt down and tied it for him. "I still can't get it. I can tie it so it stays shut but it's in such a knot I can't get it out again."

Goku chuckled, "Aw, you're getting better little man. It'll come. Be patient."

Gohan nodded "I'm trying."

Goku took a brush from the boy's nightstand and just ran it through the boy's hair enough that it was halfway decent. "I know, little man and that's all you can do." He put the brush down and stood up, "You ready to go eat, little man?"

Gohan nodded and took hold of his father's hand, his little fingers barely going around Goku's thumb. They trotted down to the kitchen, Gohan taking three steps for each of his father's. An overwhelming aroma drifted out to them as they entered the kitchen. ChiChi had prepared a wondrous feast for them: pancakes, bacon, sausage, grits, toast with butter, eggs, fresh fruit, baked ham, and honey biscuits.

"It smells great, honey!" Goku promptly proceeded to slap a mini mountain of food on his plate and attack it as if it were going to get up and leave. ChiChi took a smaller portion for herself and Gohan took a mini version of his father's meal. But as his mother and father ate, Gohan picked at his food, pushing it around his plate to create the illusion of it being eaten.

This old trick does not work on any parent, least of all ChiChi.

"Gohan, what's the matter? I fixed all your favorites."

Gohan looked up, hoping he didn't look as horrible as he felt. He was sure at any moment that the smell of the food was going to send anything in his stomach in the opposite direction. He swallowed some milk but even that felt like he was swallowing nails. Hoping to appease his mother, he picked up a piece of buttered toast and nibbled the very edge of it. That was a lost cause and he put it down.

"Sorry Mother. It smells great but…" he rubbed the back of his neck "I guess I'm just not hungry."

There was a loud crash when ChiChi dropped her plate to the floor and Goku choked on his inhaled portion. Gohan looked at both his parents as they stared at him. Almost in unison, both adults inquired "You're not hungry?" ChiChi looked pale in the face and even Goku's face had an aura of concern all over it. He put his plate aside, a rarity and both he and ChiChi darted out of their chairs and to their son.

"No, I'm not…"

ChiChi slapped her hand against Gohan's left cheek and Goku's large hand went to his forehead. Both adults found their son's skin generating much more heat than they found comforting. ChiChi tore into the kitchen to get the thermometer and Goku lifted his son out of his chair and into his arms, looking into his eyes, "You don't feel good, little man?"

"I-"

"Goku, go get him in bed. I'll be right up."

Goku nodded, having already headed that way. Gohan hated making his parents worry but given the fact they already were, he decided to take advantage of the situation and lay his head on his father's shoulder. Goku gazed at his son, worried. Gohan had gotten sick before but he hadn't felt as hot as he did now nor had he really lost his appetite.

Lying the boy down in bed, Goku stripped him down to his underwear. Gohan laid back, grateful for the return to cool pillow and soft sheets. ChiChi darted in, thermometer in hand. Goku snatched it from her and slipped it under his son's tongue, stroking back the boy's black bangs. Gohan looked down his nose, trying to read the numbers but that was almost no good. He was too dizzy to.

"How high?"

ChiChi read over the numbers and winced "Thirty nine even."

"Is that bad?"

ChiChi replied, "Well, Goku, it's not deadly but our little boy definitely has a fever."

Goku got up and walked into the bathroom. ChiChi eyed him, wondering about her husband's actions. He was so clueless most times but it seemed that whenever Gohan was involved, his paternal instincts would kick in where his common knowledge ended. Sure enough, that was just what happened this time. Goku walked back in with a small bowl and wash cloth. He sat by his son's bed, drenched the cloth and stroked his son's forehead with it which made the little boy sigh in relief.

"You rest, little man."

"Daddy, I-"

"Shh, shh," Goku stroked through his son's hair. "Daddy's staying right here."

Gohan blinked. Goku had done that the last time he'd been sick. He had never moved from his side until he was better. Gohan was glad for it although ChiChi worried about it making the boy dependent on his presence. Goku had put his foot down on that, the one time he ever was truly defiant with his wife. Drenching the cloth again, he folded it in two and laid it on the boy's forehead. "Daddy's staying right here. Promise."

ChiChi watched this, half worried and half astounded. She loved the bond between her husband and child but at times like this, it made her envious. She had carried and delivered the boy yet when he was sick, Goku was the one he called for. Heck, every time the boy wanted one of his parents, it was never her. Still, she wouldn't stop herself from trying to figure out what was wrong with her baby boy.

"No appetite, high fever…Goku, he might have the flu."

Gohan closed his eyes, lulled to sleep by his father's gentle touch. A slight burning cut through his heart briefly. He trembled, tears behind his closed eyelids. No, Mother, this is no flu bug…