The Horse with No Name
Chapter Thirty-Three
Thirst was Made for Water
Earth, Capsule Corporation
Goku runs his fingers along the bumpy hills lining the keyboard. With each groove, his hand dips into the crevices, holding there firm as he stares at the monitor. It's been so long since he's so much as looked at this bit of tech; the gravity room is by now the more expansive version of what he'd once had when journeying to Namek all those years ago. Only back then it had been more user-friendly than it looks today; what with the varying flavour of buttons and dials and touchscreen pads that he would have no idea how to use. Vegeta however can operate the machine with ease, and he makes it abundantly clear how out of touch Goku is with technology with how he shoves him out of the way and manhandles the keyboard like a pro. The whirling of electricity heightens, and steadily, the computer readies their session.
It'd been at Vegeta's behest that Goku trains with him. It's not an unusual request by any means – only made somewhat odd by their definite power gap – but Goku thinks it important to see where Vegeta is in his strength journey, and how desperately he'd need to push in order to catch up to Goku. With the situation forever changing, there is no way to define how many pairs of hands he's going to need on board. Goten and Trunks are training, too. They haven't told Goku yet, but the secret had been spoiled when Goku managed to catch the tail end of a bumpy fusion attempt. A gaunt and skeletal Gotenks hadn't even given him the time of day when Goku paused at the window yesterday, shocked. He'd been too busy depressively scrolling up and down on either Trunks' or Goten's phone, sprawled on the sofa and looking like the world owed him an apology.
Well, at least they're trying.
"We should have done the Super Saiyan God ritual weeks ago," Vegeta then asserts, pressing an elongated button atop the panel. The machine crunches, the gravity increases, slow but steady. "Gohan really did screw us."
"Don't," Goku warns.
And Vegeta doesn't. Even he knows it's all too soon.
That's not to say Goku doesn't take any satisfaction in bringing Vegeta to the ground in mere seconds. The gravity machine might as well not be functioning at all because Goku is lightning fast and quick to bounce forward, elbow poised, arm straight. His backhand is but a dangerous weapon against Vegeta's gravitational lethargy, the latter barely lasting longer than a few seconds against such a monumental power gap.
Rubble rises just to slam back down with the force of increased gravity, Vegeta along with it. He skids back, hitting the wall and subsequently creating an indent.
And Goku hasn't even transformed yet.
"In your base form, too… Unbelievable." Vegeta glares; ignoring Goku's extended hand as he drags himself out of his makeshift crater.
"Yeah, it's quite the jump, huh? Too bad that it's not enough."
"I need to achieve such power. It's wasted on you."
Goku smirks at the painfully administered praise. "Y'know, when Gohan's back we can try the ritual again."
"Is that your way of recruiting me into your stupidity?"
"I know you're tempted."
Vegeta indeed looks as much. His brow furrows and he runs his finger along his lip, contemplative, but it soon passes. "Despite what you may think, I'm not willing to gamble everything for a shot in the dark for strength. Just how many times are you going to tempt fate into killing us all?"
"We're still standing, aren't we?"
"Gohan isn't," he reminds, cutting deep, "That could have been Trunks or Goten, or me or you or one of the earthlings. Challenging gods is stupid; and if you play stupid games, Kakarot, you win stupid prizes."
Stupid prizes? Is that what Gohan's death is to him; just some meaningless outcome in a bad situation they had no right playing around in?
Before Goku can raise the point, Vegeta leans against the computer to contemplate his next words, "As much as I didn't like him for what he did to himself," He didn't do it; Goku wants to interrupt, "I suppose I can respect him enough to understand his final wishes. Gohan was smart. He knew when not to play with fire – and if you weren't so hell bent on burying your head in the sand you'd see that he didn't want anyone to waste their lives by chasing a battle beyond any normal person's reach. Gohan knew he was dying and yet he still wanted a say in all this bullshit you're trying to lead us into."
"Gohan just… worried too much. When I get him home, I'll get to tell him—"
"If that ever happens, you'll get to apologize, Kakarot," Vegeta snaps, "You'll get to say that you're sorry for dooming the rest of us with your obsession with playing the victor."
"Victor? It's never been about that." Now, that's hardly fair. "I just want my son home."
"Even with Gohan here you were eager to jump into battle with Zealites and gods showing up on our doorstep. Don't think I couldn't tell you were enjoying it, just a bit."
"I didn't enjoy a moment against that… monster, Rixas. If you must know, I would have… in the moment, I would have killed him." There's a stilted silence and Vegeta scrutinizes him with those cool, thin eyes of his. Goku has to break away first, though he's not ashamed. He would kill Rixas here and now if the opportunity presented itself. "And you're one to talk about enjoying the thrill of going up against someone strong. Really, you're making it sound like a bad thing. If there's someone I'd thought who'd enjoy a good fight then I thought it'd be you. Isn't that the Saiyan philosophy or something?"
"Saiyan philosophy," he parrots, continuing with his extensive, critical once-over, "is about survival."
"And we fight to survive," Goku off-hands, but Vegeta shakes his head.
"We survive to fight. There isn't a fight if we're all dead."
Goku can't help but tease. "That's not the attitude of the Prince of all Saiyans I once knew. Gone a bit soft with having a cute, little daughter, eh, Vegeta?"
Rose tinted cheeks are a dead giveaway. "Boil your head! No, in fact, do one better and fall on it a second time, so we can hope to correct your brain damage because you're clearly beyond help. I will continue to get stronger but not by way of dooming Earth – and everyone on it." The insulation that Goku hasn't even considered as much is insulting. Before he goes to respond, Vegeta clasps a hand on his shoulder. "Listen to me, Kakarot. Do not do this."
Goku stiffens immediately. The shock of having Vegeta place hand upon him in any other fashion than a roundhouse to the face has Goku turn to stone.
"Think about what it means for the rest of us," he continues, "Even Gohan told you to leave it alone."
Goku flinches, unhooking himself from the grasp. "And now you care about what Gohan had to say?"
There's a standoff, a silence heavier than the layered snow beyond the gravity chamber, frostier too. Vegeta stares for a long, hard second, gaze dark enough to make Goku grow somewhat uncomfortable.
It breaks with a sigh. "I'm done."
"What?"
"I'm done with this. The woman can't say I didn't try."
"I thought you wanted to get strong?"
"I will but not like this."
"Vegeta—"
"You're not the only one with a son, remember that." With that, Vegeta turns on his toes. He saunters to the exit and waits until the last possible moment to twist the knife deeper. "If you accept Brutil's offer like the moron I wager you to be, especially in situations concerning Gohan, you can count me out of it, Kakarot. Take this battle the hell away from Earth."
Metal hinges groan and a brisk streak of late morning sun comes as quickly as it goes. The door closes shut with a whimper, echoing Vegeta's lack of emotional sway. It's a plea fallen on deaf ears. That leaves Goku alone to marinate in his own frustration. And he does sit for a while, mulling over the situation quietly. This is what he needs, he soon realizes. He needs some peace and quiet. Ever since he woke up the other day all it's been is chaos with Chi-Chi, and then with the doctor and Bulma's incredibly pushy medical team, and then with Goten and his letter which had sent him into a tizzy. Goku just needs to…
He breathes.
Being back at Square One is lonely.
But Goku is not so socially diminished as not to blame himself for being isolated. Standing alone had been his choice, but, who knew that Chi-Chi would be so quick to move on without Gohan? Goten at least is trying with his training, but even he'd casted doubts on Goku's ambitions. Piccolo gave up before even trying and now Vegeta…
Goku tempers himself only to fall deeper. Shin, too, is gone and according to Brutil he could be under duress or imprisoned somewhere in the depths of the unknown.
"No, no. He's definitely still alive. We'd know otherwise," Brutil had said yesterday upon Goku's initial panic, "But with his disappearance, it's worrying. There's an assumption that he's being contained elsewhere, but the conditions could mean anything… Some things are worse than death, Goku Son."
"How about Lord Beerus?" Piccolo had asked. "Whis?"
At this Brutil had grinned, raising an ironclad fist. "He's meeting with that wretched Lord Quell and giving him hell as we speak. Apparently, Lord Quell had begged him to join their forces but Lord Beerus had laughed – I know, I saw him read the letter – but he'd agreed to see him anyway. I guarantee Lord Beerus is giving that pompous pretty boy an ass kicking." There'd been a moment of contemplation next, his smile died. "Eyrelle, however…"
It turns out that, along with another kai, she'd defected the moment she'd seen one of the Gods of Revelation. After all, she'd been with them for years prior. Their once 'in' quickly got out.
"I'll kill her," Brutil had next promised, "For allowing that beast and his Zealites in, for sentencing our own people to that monster's wrath; I'll run a sword through her."
Vegeta had been about as sympathetic as expected; uninterested and preoccupied with staring into the distance where Trunks and Goten had gathered, the devious eavesdroppers. Piccolo had poised a good question however.
"If Lord Quell and Lord Rixas had both been on Earth with us at the time of the massacre, who'd been—"
"Lord Mori. He led the Zealites. I was there. I saw his mask." There'd been a quick intake of breath. "He must have been operating under Lord Quell all along. It'd been a ploy; the entire lot of it! Those… Those fiendish slime balls have existed long enough, all when they deserve nothing less but the slowest of deaths. Revelation has only ever served evil, after all. Just why in the Kai's great name have they been left to run wild for so long? I and many others have said for years that tradition is to be upheld, not to be thwarted at the mercy of the egos of rogue gods. How dare they take from us, from the Kai?"
They'd taken from Goku, too.
"Lord Quell, Lord Rixas and Lord Mori…" Piccolo had counted, "That's three."
"Three gods," Vegeta had too summarized.
"And Zealites."
Goku'd known where it was going straight away, but Brutil had been the one to anger. "What? Now you want to bow out?" he'd questioned, livid, "I thought you wanted to aid the Kai? I'm giving you mortals the chance to step up so be grateful! The Supreme Kai consistently vouched for you useless beings yet you now desert him in a crisis? By what honour?"
"Hang on, hang on. Let's calm down—"
"How about you, Goku Son? Are you going to let them rip your child from you like the pitiful, babbling excuse of a father they are making you out to be?"
"No. I'm getting him home." A dark thought had soon slipped through his lips. "Rixas and Quell need to pay."
Hook, line and sinker; the kai had soon smirked. "Now that's what I want to hear. Look, don't think we would be shooting in the dark with taking them on as not the entire Council is dead. They are in talks and they have ideas – I have ideas."
"Kakarot, don't be—"
"Vegeta, are you not a saiyan? I am disappointed in you. I thought you would be first to jump to serve such an honourable position. Think of the fight, think of the victory over oppression. You saiyans would know all about that, would you not?"
Vegeta had looked all but impressed. "Are you quite done? Flowery bullshit won't win me over. I'm not foolhardy enough to throw my life away in the name of the kais."
"Well… Aren't you a disappointment, after all? How about you, namekian?"
"We haven't the power to go against either Lord Quell or Lord Rixas."
"With Kai intervention we can change that. We will level the fields." There'd been a most dastardly smirk, one which very well could have been ripped right from Freiza's face decades ago. "With what the council have in mind, those pitiful gods will rue the day they ever went against the Kai."
They'd told Brutil they'd think about it but Goku feels like he has little in the way of choice. If they don't align with Brutil and the kais then who will help them get Gohan back? Beerus comes part in parcel with them; they're the ones they need to keep happy; they're the ones with the ability to take down Rixas. As easy as Vegeta had rejected them, Goku finds it difficult to believe he would do as much if it was Trunks' or Bulla's lives on the line.
Goku slides down the shell of the computer, back firm against the cool metal. The gravity chamber hums in wait for his move. Goku, too, waits for his own move.
"Keep that relic safe. We'll need it in due time," Brutil had said on his way out. "I'll be back in a couple of days in anticipation for your answer, Goku Son. Do not disappoint me like the others. Show me why Lord Beerus and the Supreme Kai have the utmost faith in you. Remember… Small opportunities are often the beginning of great enterprises; know that what you could achieve could be great, for you and your son."
There's a difference in defending oneself and chasing battle. Goku understands both sides, but… It's a given that he must stand by his son, by Gohan, by the person he's failed over and over. After Brutil had left, Vegeta had half-joked that they must be desperate if they're trying to recruit them, yet Goku's not so sure. Every challenge faced has been a challenge overcome. Goku knows that if they put the effort in, as they have every other time, they can achieve whatever they want – they always have.
The gods have recognized them. Why can't Vegeta and Piccolo recognize that? They're trusted.
But, there's always that reminder – the memory – of that quiet conversation he'd once shared with Gohan back home.
"Well, I'm just thinking about their motivations," Goku admitted weeks ago, "While I trust Shin, and I really do, I just think about the people he works with and what they'd want with the Earth, and with me, y'know?"
Gohan had been immediately excited, enough so that the smile that had broken out was wide. "Good! You're thinking; that's good."
"I feel like everyone has an agenda. Honestly, Gohan, I feel like I'm in over my head."
His son's hand had reached for his. "You don't need to do this, Dad."
But he does. Now, he does.
The relic – the Orb of Permi… uh, Permanence? Is that the name? – is being safeguarded in a vault beneath Capsule Corporation. Should anyone attempt to steal it then they'd need to get past both Goku and Vegeta, though by this point Goku wouldn't be surprised if Vegeta had gift wrapped it ready just to be rid of the thing. The Zealites are likely to come for it at some point; it's a matter of when, not if.
He'll be ready for them.
At lunch – a tired affair in a heated conservatory – Goku sits beside Goten, who is doing his very best not to look at him. He's twisting his fork around and around in the mountain of rice atop his plate, gaze lost to the thinning snowfall beyond the grounds. He could have gone back to Fire Mountain with Chi-Chi but he chose to stay here at Capsule Corporation with him. To Goku, that says something.
In the lunch time chaos, a glass of water spills when Trunks desperately reaches for another bowl of soup. Bulma slaps his hand and presses a wad of napkins into it. Such a rare sight that it is for her to be out of the workshop these days; she's joined them and is on her fifth bottle of formula milk with Bulla, who, like her brother, cannot get enough. She's as saiyan as the rest of them. Though, today, Trunks' appetite is ferocious likely due not to his saiyan blood but to that fusion training Goku is not supposed to know about.
Goten meanwhile has barely eaten a thing.
"Hey, kiddo, it'll work out," Goku finds himself saying, daring to run his hand along the shaggy nest of spikes. Goten'll be needing energy if he's trying to achieve fusion. "Get some pork in you. You don't wanna' waste away, right?"
Surprisingly, Goten doesn't pull away. He doesn't move at all, actually.
Trunks slurps at his soup, but behind the bowl he sends him a meaningful look that Goku struggles to dissect.
Eventually, Goten, the child of mystery, sighs quietly and drops his fork entirely. "None of it makes sense."
"Goten?"
"Oh." It's as if he's just noticed Goku in the first place. "Ah, uh, don't worry about it. Sorry."
He's spacey for the rest of lunch. Goku wants to put it down to not eating a full meal and attempting a strenuous technique for hours on end, yet… he feels in his gut that there's something more to it. Goku tries to corner him after they eat but Goten is so fast up and out of there that he never stands a chance, chiefly in thanks to Bulma tugging at his sleeve to stay, her smile sad and her head shaking.
Trunks gives him the time of day however. He looks a darn sight better than yesterday. Gone are those manic eyes and the bags nestled beneath them, instead he's fixing Goku steady with a steely look of determination.
"You're going to help that asshole, right?"
"Brutil?"
"Yeah, that guy." Goku doesn't know what to say exactly without tempting Vegeta to appear out of the woodwork to throttle him. Trunks, in an unusual display of optimism, smiles fully. "Whatever you're doing, I'm in. Remember that, okay? I want to help Gohan."
It's enough to upturn Goku's mood. "You're a good kid, Trunks."
Though, it doesn't last.
Later, Goku finds himself alone yet again; he sits atop the roof, watching the sky slowly descend from white into the purple evening. Glittery remnants of snow have since turned into slush-like sparkles and coat the countryside and the city alike in showered festive gloom. It's appropriate. Kids come and go close to Capsule Corporation's grounds to collect some of the deeper, untouched snow that's built up by the fence. Multi-coloured winter jackets that are so very bright pelt one another with frozen balls, the laughs carry in echoes, one boy cries, others scream in jubilance, and for Goku it's all a bit sickly to watch.
He moves to a different section of the roof.
Lying there as a starfish in the whitish sludge, Goku contemplates travelling to the Lookout if only to scout out the Room of Spirit and Time. Putting in an hour or two there really might make the difference in the power divide between him and Rixas. This divine power is but the start of his growth as a fighter; it's the breakthrough he could have only dreamed about once upon a time ago. Nevertheless now he's unsure of how to fan its flames into the wildfire it needs to become. The Room of Spirit and Time could be the answer… although it feels more a shot in the dark more than anything; uncertainty in a time when Goku needs definite leads.
Brutil said that they would level the playing field. How? Would they make Goku even stronger? Borrowed Kai energy could possibly give him – and Piccolo, Vegeta and the boys should they want it – the boost they need.
Then, something rings uncomfortably in his head. He remembers a point Brutil mentioned off hand; Revelation... What is that, really?
Weeks ago, back at one of their meetings, Vegeta and Gohan had spoken of it then.
"More gods…" Vegeta had said. "Where are they even coming from? What does a God of Revelation even bring?"
"Revelation."
"Smartass. What does that even mean? Revelation of what?"
Shin had chuckled nervously. "The Revelation; it's something that comes about every so often – millennia apart – and changes the tide of existence. The current generation's predecessors had been the ones to exterminate relics in the first place."
So, these gods want to change everything. They want to do… something big. What though?
The thinning snow slows to wisps; floating, ghostly flakes that come to stop in their free fall all around Goku. Finally, the skies have stopped with their ice-sweltered tears.
"Gohan…" He closes his eyes, holding still in the chill of the air. In the frozen moment he tries to remember his son, the easy smile that came with him, but all he can see is Rixas' hand pummelling through the other side of a bloodied chest. He sees the shock, the horror – the emptiness.
No longer does he feel the cold; no longer does he feel anything but the devil's claw twisting his gut. His hands throb with the deprivation to squeeze, to snap, to kil—
BAAANG!
Deep beneath him, the ground rumbles.
Earth, Downtown West City
There's an empty crate that once harboured Springview Ripe 'n' Tasty Oranges but now just serves as Goten's seat, here in this dour alley three blocks away from Capsule Corporation. Unfortunately downtown West City alleys come with the pungent smell of bin juice, urine and something green that definitely isn't legal, so his companions aren't best impressed with the choice of location. As, also enjoying city's spicy odours, are two people he would have never put together in a million years; Videl Satan and Piccolo respectively sit opposite at the courtesy of Springview oranges.
Videl, having just come from work, looks particularly out of place in her name brand work clothes and heels. She swears when the point of her shoe digs into something grimy melded into the floor.
"What a great spot to meet," she complains, adjusting herself away from the questionable substance. "Brilliant, Goten. Just what I need today."
Luckily, the snowfall has stopped but that's not to say it's not cold. The heat from a neighbouring exhaust can only warm them so much, and the melted snow drips from atop to give all three the experience of an unpleasant, sad shower of sorts.
On a brighter note, Piccolo looks utterly ridiculous on his crate. A being of seven feet should never be subjected to squatting on a box, and Goten would have laughed himself silly at the image if it were any other day.
Instead, he defends himself from accusatory glares. "My bad that the café next door shut down. How the heck would I know they went out of business?"
"Last year."
"Well, we couldn't meet at Capsule Corporation without my dad sticking his nose in. My bad for trying to be clever about it."
"Clever would be going anywhere else—"
"Well, this is the only place that doesn't freak out about weird stuff. The old lady who ran the place is practically blind and deaf so she wouldn't have freaked over Piccolo!"
"It would have taken—"
"Knock it off," Piccolo interrupts from his throne of wood and citrus. "I am not here out of my own desire to be. Lest you forget but I actually want to pick your challenged brains about—"
"Oh no. Don't you get all high and mighty with me after you caused me to get my first and only disciplinary yesterday. My boss is still pissed. I didn't think he was going to let me out early today."
"Good thing you're engaged to his nephew," Goten snipes, and then upon feeling immediately bad; "Sorry. I mean, well, it's true but I didn't mean to be a dick."
She lets it slide. "He's an asshole. 'Definitely giving him a seat at the little kids table at the wedding."
"Anyway," Piccolo tries again, gruff, "I checked the notebook you gave me, Videl—"
"Stole from me, but sure—"
"And you were right when you said there are no Earth languages that resemble the text Gohan wrote."
Videl is immediately vindicated from whatever pressure she put on herself. "Yes, I knew it. I couldn't find anything at all. No dead languages, either. Nothing. It's as if he made it up."
"He didn't."
A pending silence follows and then, from Piccolo's cape comes their little shred of evidence. The book emerges and Goten nearly swipes at it. It'd been his find after all. He'd been the one to unearth it, despite not really ever understanding the implications of the strange writing, though honestly, to him, it could have been some foreign language from the opposite side of the globe.
So it turns out, he's wrong as Piccolo soon elaborates.
"I spoke to Dende and Mr. Popo and neither of them had any knowledge of such writing. Mr. Popo knows about every language on Earth, including the deceased ones, yet he has never seen such markings." The book opens and Piccolo gestures to the writing with fingers far too large and gangly to be handling such a thing. "Most interestingly, however, is this. Tell me, Goten, what does this writing look like to you?"
Bumps. Dots. Squiggles. Goten can spot some overlapping squares.
"It's just a bunch of shapes."
"What's the first one you see? Here, what shape is this resembling?"
"Er, more like, I don't know, a triangle, I guess."
Videl snorts. "Just what are you looking at? That's two circles stuck together. It looks like a side-on number eight if anything."
What? Is she drunk?
Piccolo hums. "And to me, it looks nothing like a shape at all but a series of perpendicular dots."
Goten snatches the book for a better look. "Ahhh?" No way, that's not right. He's definitely looking at a triangle.
"Do you understand what I'm saying?" Piccolo threads his fingers, looking between the two with menacing complexity. No, Goten does not understand. How the hell can they all be looking at the same thing but see completely different patterns? "This – this language – is otherworldly. There must be magic involved here at the very least. And from what I remember of Gohan, he was not versed in either this mystical language or even magic. I'd go as far to say that Gohan had zero aptitude for magic."
Videl looks about as disturbed as Goten feels.
"What?" She derisively laughs, anxiety evident in how she runs her hands along her skirt, "Are you saying that this person we had here wasn't even Gohan?"
"Well, I was hoping you would be able to tell me that. You both spent an adequate amount of time with him."
"Well, if you weren't being a jerk and ignoring him then maybe you'd know for yourself."
Videl has his back. "You really hurt him, you know."
Piccolo grits his teeth, a long vein running very prominently from one temple to the next. "I am not here for your opinions on that. Or is this your way of telling me that this is most definitely the real Gohan?"
"Yeah." Goten nods and then reluctantly returns the notebook when Piccolo wiggles his hand in expectation for it. "It was him. I'm sure of it."
"Videl?"
There's no immediate answer. Goten raises his brows, surprised when she shuffles atop her crate. His horror dies with her lethargic answer. "Yes, it was him," she says slowly, killing him, "It was, but…"
"But…?"
Piccolo is equally becoming as impatient as Goten; she's holding onto something. Just as he goes to push her, her mouth opens in a lazy motion, as though her words are lodged in her throat. Finally, such tension leaves her. She cracks her neck. "Okay... So. Right. Look, this is going to sound really self-obsessed but fuck it. As you both know, Gohan and I dated in high school and we'd been super close before he died. I… honestly… I really thought he was the one. I mean, I know we'd been school kids and like, every girl thinks their first boyfriend is the one but Gohan had been such a special person. When he'd died, it broke my heart—"
"Not to sound insensitive but can you get to your point?"
"Oh, yeah, that definitely doesn't sound insensitive, Piccolo."
"My point," she stresses, glare intense, "Is that Gohan felt the same. We both thought we'd go the distance." There's a pause to mourn the memory. "So, when he came back at the age of seventeen, I'd felt awful that Gohan had come back to life to not have… me, I mean, in the way we'd been together. He was still just a kid and I'm in my twenties, engaged to be married and with someone else – I thought that would crush him."
"But it didn't," Piccolo abridges.
"It didn't." She rolls her lips into a thin line and she surveys the stretch of the alley. "Nope. He was fine. Completely fine. I'm not going to lie. It pissed me off a bit." She does laugh, dryly. "He was so mature about it."
Goten rolls his eyes. That's been a statement thrown at him all through his adolescence. Yes, he knows Gohan is mature, he knows he's great and smart and can handle losing Videl twice over much better than Goten can.
"Too mature," she eventually adds on. "Haruto – my fiancé – actually brought it up. He'd said that Gohan just doesn't act like any high schooler he's ever met, which I agree with. We'd have nights in and we'd forget that Gohan is supposed to be a kid, really. He'd been kind'a funny and engaging in a way I certainly don't remember him being. Gohan had been lovably awkward in school – you won't remember this, Goten, but he was so painfully shy. His confidence wasn't anything to write home about."
"No, it wasn't," Piccolo agrees.
"And, yet," she shrugs, slapping her hands down, "Here he was, holding his own with two graduates a little too well. He's definitely Gohan… Just, crank him up to twenty-three. Put him at my age."
Piccolo surprisingly takes her seriously. "You think wherever he's been; he's been sentient for all these years?"
"Gohan has not been stuck in some void, that's what I'm saying. He isn't a kid."
"Whis made his body based on Gohan's appearance six years ago…" Piccolo's brain is in overdrive. "It wouldn't necessarily resemble who he'd grown into. But, that means he would have been lying. Do you think he committed suicide in order to – what? What? Why are you looking at me like that, Goten?"
"Tell him," Videl orders.
"Ugh, right."
Goten flinches because he knows it's going to sting. The truth doesn't pour free like water in a stream, instead it gushes out awkwardly like water breaking down a damn, piece by piece. Admitting the suicide hadn't been so much a suicide but rather a murder brings no satisfaction, not to either of them, because that means Dad had been right all along and nothing else could be worse. Piccolo takes a deep breath, and then rubs his face with vigour, looking like he might be sick.
"Oh, I bet you feel like shit," Videl admonishes reflexively, into the silence that follows.
"Shut up."
"After all this time, Gohan has been gone not because he wanted to, but because…" Because Dad was right and he'd been killed. Goten savours Piccolo's inner conflict, horribly enjoying the fleeting guilt and pain crossing his expression. Years; Goten has suffered from this guy's snide put downs, now it's his turn to see Piccolo swallowed by the demons that have always haunted Goten.
"We do not tell Goku."
Both Videl and Goten do laugh at that. "Yeah, we figured as much," Videl says, "How is Goku holding up with all this?"
"He's not."
"Dad's losing it."
"Rather," Piccolo says bleakly, likely a result of the hard to swallow truth, "He's throwing himself into the situation without a thought of consequence for everyone else."
"I know he said something to Mum. She was crying on the phone to me this morning…"
"He's acting recklessly. Unless you're about to side with him and charge at those gods blindly then he isn't interested in what you have to say."
Videl looks between them, uncomfortable. Her heels have truly submerged into the gunk of the alley now but she doesn't pay them any mind. "Then maybe we should tell him about all this. If he realizes that something stinks here then he might be open to—"
"The moment Goku realizes that Gohan did not kill himself – as verified – is the moment we will truly lose him to his maddening obsession with saving Gohan."
Nearby the alley, police cars rush past, sirens whirling, lighting the dismal crook and the remaining snow in peppered flashes of red and blue. When they're gone and the alley returns to its usual dismal colouring, only then do they realize how dark it's become. Hollering of nearby seedy drunks can now be heard, the dregs of society are emerging into the early evening.
"Did you bring the letter?" Piccolo asks, unperturbed. Goten did bring it. He passes it along. "I assume you've read this, Videl?"
"Yeah. I didn't like it one bit."
"Mm. Me neither. Clearly, he knew something he wasn't telling any of us, or you both, rather."
They talk at length about possibilities, about the nitty-gritty details of the letter Goten actually overlooked even well into his seventh reading. Whilst he knows about the subtle mentions of not being alone, Goten hadn't considered some of the darker implications of the writing. THE EARTH NEEDS TO STAY OUT OF IT reads especially ominously now that Piccolo mentions it.
"The wording makes it sound like he knew something. Goku mentioned that Gohan, as he put it, worried too much about him involving himself with this godly business. Gohan wouldn't have questioned your father in the past, not in matters of such importance. He trusted him."
"Gohan knew what Dad was like, though."
"I can attest to that. Gohan complained about Goku when he stayed at mine."
Now that surprises Goten. "He did?"
"Yeah. Goten, he wouldn't say anything to you. He was dying for you guys to get along better. The whole thing with you and your dad was killing him. A-Ah, don't pull your face like that. I didn't mean anything by it – just, he was worried about you guys being on…" Her words dry up, her eyes become saucepans, "God, I'm an idiot. Gohan even said that he wanted you guys to get along so he didn't have to mediate – so he could leave you both to it."
Piccolo showcases the letter. "Because he knew he was going to leave again."
"His body was all crumby," Goten adds.
"It was dying. He knew. I think… I always knew."
Videl groans, definitely putting the pieces together. She must have seen first-hand how much of a mess Gohan had become.
"Oh. That Rixas guy had been looking for Gohan," Goten then tells, fast. Piccolo would have turned greener if he could. "He'd not said it but I could tell. Do you think he – and that other god – had been targeting Gohan?"
Piccolo stands, his cape sodden from the slush. "Lord Quell… he said they would not… revive him. But even I thought that weird. Lord Quell clearly cannot stand your father but I didn't think he'd be so cruel as to allow Lord Rixas to kill Gohan. Why wouldn't he allow Whis to bring him back? There'd be no reason not to. Gohan is but… another soul, he'd been just a normal boy; there'd be no threat of him disrupting the stream of the universe."
Videl leans back on her crate. "What happens if there was?"
"What?"
"That's the only other conclusion, right? Let's put this together. Gohan was killed, you guys couldn't wish him back with the dragon balls despite there now being no reason you wouldn't be able to, it takes some super strong angel to bring him back, actual gods come to kill him – the same ones controlling those Zealites – and now we find out that Gohan's been lying throughout his entire time here and writing in a weird, magical language. You tell me, what part of this makes sense if Gohan was not at all involved or at the very least a threat to something? Look at the letter! He even warned us to stay away from this entire mess."
Goten wants to be sick. It's a truth he's been coming to naturally, yet it still makes his head spin so much that he might as well be sitting on a carousel at full speed. The stench of the alley intensifies and he has to hold his head.
"Fuck," he curses.
"Yeah," Videl agrees, "Fuck."
Goten bargains with Piccolo for the notebook. He gives him the letter in exchange, and so long as Goten promises to give back the book, he can take it back to Capsule Corporation tonight to see if there is anything else weird about it. In Trunks' room, he spins his trusty power pole, eyes glued to said notebook, trailing each page in the hopes of finding anything – anything at all – off about it. Currently, they're breaking from practicing fusion until the food shop arrives.
"I literally hate him so much," Trunks complains. At first, Goten thinks he's talking about Gohan but then he continues. "Gotenks is such a greedy asshole. We've eaten so many tubs of ice-cream that I never want to look at a soft serve ever again."
So it turns out, Gotenks only seems to appear if there are snacks in the room. They could perform the fusion dance exactly the same each time, yet nothing will work unless they're able to bribe this non-being with junk food, video games or both. Worst of all; who's to say that they've even been able to achieve the pinnacle form yet? Fat Gotenks shows up most, especially around Peanut Butter Crumble Ice-Creamilicious, but Skinny Gotenks occasionally turns up. They know it's him because he always changes their screensavers on their phones to some edgy boy band photo from about ten years ago.
"Don't look at me," Goten had said, changing the screen back to its usual anime theme. "I never listened to Heart Breakers."
Having been depleted of every unhealthy food article in Capsule Corporation (including Bulma's hidden chocolate supply), there is little else to do but wait for the delivery.
Trunks leaves a lot to be desired in the virtue of patience tonight, and he tediously hovers over Goten in a bid for either attention or entertainment. When he tries to take the Power Pole, Goten wastes no time in jabbing him hard in the stomach.
Conclusively, after today's events, Goten has a lot on his plate. He finds himself going over Videl and Piccolo's input from earlier, barely able to decompress after the conclusions they'd arrived at. He wants to tell Trunks, desperately so, but he seems too far gone with the idea of achieving fusion and trailing along after Dad and his flimsy plans. Someone has lit a fire under Trunks' ass and Goten isn't sure that Trunks knows how to deal with it; for years, Trunks has been so indifferent to the strength he'd been born with. Goten, too, has had no interest until now, and even then, that's a stretch because achieving fusion is Trunks' ambition, not his. Goten believes cracking this has less to do with physicality and more to do with brain power.
Because, if it was to do with power… Goten wouldn't stand a chance at all.
'I exist beyond what I can do for you and your personal growth.'
Gohan had written that, and it'd stung. Retrospectively, however, it annoys him because why the hell does Gohan get to put distance there, leave them and then take the moral high ground after cleaving a great, big hole in the middle of Goten's life? Doesn't he understand that Goten's personal growth is connected to him because of what a… what a lousy brother he's been! He'd lied not only to Goten but to everybody, and then he just up and left them for some ridiculous reason that probably has to do with him being a martyr of some kind.
Over and over and over and over. Goten relives the point Gohan died. He remembers the shockwave of surprise, the distress – had that all been a lie?
You knew this entire time, didn't you? You… You knew! You knew you were going to die yet you still looked like that. Your body was breaking but it was beyond that, right?
The Power Pole is throbbing. Goten feels as if it might snap in his hold should he squeeze any tighter.
What are you doing, Gohan? Right now, what are you doing and where are you? I need to know.
He runs his fingers down the front of Gohan's notebook, distressing the cover and demanding the answers to the mystery of this on-going hell. The notebook, in the fashion of any non-sentient object, sits there and keeps its secrets.
"That was Gohan's, huh?"
Goten peers over his shoulder. Trunks is very carefully watching him, lounged across his computer chair with his phone pressed up against his face. Blue eyes soon fixate on the book's cover, eyeing exactly where Gohan's name is very precisely penned.
Goten favours him with a slow nod. "Yeah..."
"Why do you have it?"
"I'm just tryin' to figure some stuff out, is all."
"Like… what?"
Half-truths are just well constructed lies, and so he leans on that foundation. "Rixas had been looking for Gohan," he tells, "Just maybe going through some of Gohan's stuff to see if he'd, I don't know, incriminated himself or something, like, maybe he wrote down something about being dead and that was bad."
"So you're going through his stuff now?"
"It's not a diary or anything."
Trunks spins in his chair once before joining Goten on the bed. He then takes the book without any fight (Goten knows that would just make it worse) and flips through the pages indiscriminately, occasionally pausing a finger between pages to examine Goten's reaction.
"You're being weird," he notices.
Goten is a bad liar. Another half-truth breaks free. "I think there's something more to Gohan's death."
Trunks considers his words. "…What are you trying to do here, Goten?"
As much as he hates to admit it, there's the real fear that if Trunks finds out that he'll tell Dad, and Dad can't find out. Dad can't know. It'll just make everything ten times worse. But with Trunks so pent up to make a difference, how can Goten trust him not to blurt it out in a moment of passion? He'd thrown Goten asunder yesterday when he'd openly sided with Dad. Still, he does want to tell him. It'd ease his conscience. Guilt burdened, Goten realizes that he's not even told him the reality of Gohan's suicide either. Piccolo and Videl know, but Trunks, his best friend, doesn't.
"I'm just… looking."
"What are you hiding—?"
BAAANG!
The room shakes with a violent shudder, tremors knocking Trunks' bookshelf into disarray, trophies and knick-knacks tumbling to the ground where they dance. It could be misinterpreted as an earthquake but the deep groaning coming from several floors below indicates otherwise. Something is clearly very unnaturally wrong, a sentiment supported by the abrupt, mismatched beeping of multiple alarms and the security sirens. The lights dimmer. Doors can be heard slamming open. Footsteps gallivant down hallways.
Boooooom….
Trunks is up faster than he is. He charges down the hallway and out of the private quarters, shoving aside any unfortunate Capsule Corporation employee finding themself in their way. Goten follows down the labyrinth of white stretched corridors, ducking and diving between startled onlookers. It's only after a belated moment that he realizes that he's brought along both the Power Pole and Gohan's notebook; the latter hardly useful in what he's going to assume to be an altercation.
Goten knows where they're going. Down and along a winding stairwell leading to the underbelly of the building can be found the exact location the relic was stored.
Above, crackles of electricity sound from severed wires, Goten moves past them, inching under clouding smoke and into a dimly lit portion of the basement. It's here the hum of energy came from; like the impatient rip deep from within a lion's throat. A second roar follows and suddenly, from behind a metal-clad door, light bursts free. Hinges snap, metal churns and screams and collapses against the wall. Goten only narrowly avoids being hit by a liberated glass panel. Trunks on the other hand is not so lucky.
Glittery icicles of glass dazzle against the torrent of energy. Goten has to look away as his friend is swallowed up by it.
"Trunks!" he cries, shielding his eyes.
Equally tragic, Gohan's notebook has caught fire. So quickly does it burn that Goten feels the heat eating at his fingers at an unnatural pace, his first response is to rip surviving pages out. He sacrifices the rest of the book to the flames and stuffs the remnants into his pants pocket. Crap, Piccolo is going to kill him.
The Power Pole is fortunately more durable. Goten repositions it in his hand, ready to strike, as he steadily advances into the light. There is no mystery to who he's approaching. Vegeta's energy has been violently bubbling this entire time, shifting against imaginary warriors with lifeless energies; there's nothing to be felt of any opposing ki.
It must be the Zealites.
He's right, as is revealed when the light fades. Goten is tearing now; the effect much resembling looking into the afternoon sun for too long, but through these tears he can see the congregation of at least three Zealites, recognizable from their dark uniforms and smoky aura. Two others have cornered a super saiyan Vegeta. It seems the ki blasts came from him because another erupts from his palm. It catches one of his pursuers, nipping the other, and barely sparing Goten, who has to forward roll out of the way.
They're underground – why the hell is Vegeta throwing ki around?!
The other three Zealites approach. Goten thinks they're circling in on him but at the last possible second they detour past. Another target has entered. He's worried that it's Trunks at first, that's until he's dragged up and brought face to face with his friend.
"Your dad is here," Trunks stage whispers, pulling him to the side of the basement.
It's an enormous room, regularly dark and clustered with cobwebs and unused Capsule Corporation inventions that will never see the light of day. Only, they're seeing plenty of light today with how liberal Vegeta is being with his energy; brightness scales along the walls, shadows birth and die as they follow searing jets of white fire into battle.
"He's going to blow the place up," Goten exclaims, but Trunks surprisingly shakes his head.
"They're not strong. I… I think it's to keep it bright in here. Those guys—"
They move in the darkness.
So Goten sees it good sense to power up into Super Saiyan, Trunks nods and does the same. Gold billows around and lights up a sizable distance around them, though this does come with the counterproductive point of lighting up like a lighthouse amidst a sea of black; they're easy targets.
But still, nobody comes for them.
Goten's back presses against Trunks'. The stretch of gold only reaches so far. The lights are out, Vegeta's flying lightshow comes and goes, Dad – who has newly entered the fray – has disappeared into the darkness.
Trunks nudges Goten's shoulder with the back of his own. "Let's try it."
There's no question as to what it is.
"Bad plan," Goten chants over and over, "Bad, bad, bad plan."
"Well, what else are we going to do?"
An echo of Dad's voice can be heard; a loud grunt upon being launched into what sounds like a hoard of screws and nuts. They ping everywhere. Spinning along the floor, Goten feels several journey over his feet.
Dad could transform into his god mode but what would that mean for Capsule Corporation?
"Come on!"
"It's too dark!"
"Just try—!"
"I can't see!"
Goten hates the chaos that comes with these Zealites. It's their modus operandi to use the shadows against their target, to use the thrill and fear of night to achieve their mysterious ends. Such ends are only less mysterious today because everyone had expected the creeps to attempt to snatch the relic. Though, in spite of such foresight, Goten hadn't expected to be painted blind. Thick smoke inhibits what little he can make out. Never mind fusion, how can Goten even defend a relic he cannot see?
"Fuuuusiii—"
Goten jumps. "Wa-Wait! I'm not in position!"
They give it a go, and of course as Goten had predicted, it goes completely askew. Trunks slips on one of the screws and ends up head-butting the wall; the first and only injury thus far.
It's strange. Last time, the Zealites hadn't wasted a second in taking them down at the World Martial Arts Tournament. They'd kept both Trunks and him at bay, admittedly not doing too much damage but not going to the degree of completely ignoring them.
Goten moves away, his feet a mind of their own. Trunks calls for him, demands they try fusion again, but Goten continues on anyway, slowly, steadily into the rush of sound. The super saiyan transformation simmers, dropping completely until he truly cannot see a breath's inch ahead. Goten loses his golden protection. The shadows gain another inhabitant.
Absently, he hears Trunks still shouting his name.
But he's committed now. His theory needs to be tested, and soon enough an opportunity presents itself. Because only a few steps later, very faint colour differences – tones concealed as light greys – in the darkness hint to another person standing before him.
Goten takes the Power Pole and rotates it vertically angled away from him. He's no master by any means but the movement is swift, there's intent. The Zealite could take it from him. He could also yield Goten's arm and snap it cleanly. Last time, they'd actually managed to rough him up a bit. But today…
The Zealite steps backward.
Goten steps forward.
He actually relinquishes the Power Pole into a neutral hold; it shrinks and Goten fastens it to his pants in a torturously slow sweep, so now, completely unarmed, he continues frontward, and the Zealite – still, he continues back.
Another explosion of ki makes contact with the wall behind, setting off a small firework display and trailing stripes of white-blue across the masked face before him. And Goten realizes it then and there; this guy's not looking to attack, no, he's not looking to do anything.
A sick swirl snares Goten's stomach and pulls when he revisits what happened with Rixas. Hehadn't hurt Goten either; even when the chance had presented itself thirty times over, nobody had hurt him. The closest any of them have come to death, other than Gohan, is Dad and that's because he'd been begging for it.
Good God, they've been spared so many times now that this goes beyond coincidence.
With renewed gusto, Goten lunges forward. He takes the Zealite by his robe, and only then does the warrior respond. He snakes his hand around Goten's wrist and twists until Goten coils with it, circling in the air and then falling flat on his back, and… and then, that's it. That's just it. Goten's lying on his back, flat as a pancake, open and ready to be killed or at the very least maimed. But nope. No, nobody is so much as giving him a swift kick.
What the hell…
The Zealite has long since disappeared into the abyss by the time he gets up, but in spite of that, Goten feels mollified by what he's just witnessed; another piece to the puzzle that's starting to come together nicely.
His revelation lasts about ten more seconds before Dad flounders him right off his feet and back onto his backside. He's a super saiyan and the yellow-gold aura gusts send the darkness into hiding, coating both Goten and the surrounding basement luminously; Dad, too, can be seen as bright as the sun itself. Despite a few cuts and bruises, he's fine – fighting fit and remarkably uninjured – and so quickly picks both himself and Goten up.
"Goten!" He realises, "Be careful!"
"You hit me!"
"Oh, uh, I didn't see you there," he says by way of apology. "Transform into a super saiyan – they hate the light, and don't get too close."
Dad's base transformation, now so much stronger thanks to the foundation of divine ki, suffocates Goten at such close range. It hurts to look at. Dad blisters with something inhuman.
It takes a second but Goten does muster up the energy to challenge him. "You need to know something—"
"Super Saiyan, Goten."
"Dad, wait a minute. The—"
And he's gone.
Another explosion sounds and Goten hears Vegeta string together a long line of swear words. Rays of light shine irregularly and the cluster of multiple fights form just ahead. It's infuriating to witness. At this distance, it's as if he's the only one able to spot the bigger picture. Can't they see it's all about distraction? These Zealites are just playing with them. More of them are appearing, too, one after the other they dogpile Vegeta and Dad and maybe Trunks too. With Goten standing here, doing nothing, they don't even acknowledge his existence.
Well, I'll take what I can get.
He sees his chance when Vegeta releases a particularly large ki blast. So as not to ruin the building, the ball of ki is not heavy with fire power but with light. It hovers, wobbling, and for a transitory moment everything is clear. Zealites litter the basement like ants in their systematic huddles, posing the important questions: How did they all get down here? Why so many? Just how many are there?
He hasn't the time to count.
And in the end, it doesn't even matter because he zones in on something very important.
No… No way.
It's so small, but in the wink of dying light, impossibly, he finds his ticket to Gohan.
Goten dashes. Nobody tries to stop him, not a Zealite, not Trunks nor his father. The messy, thick tangle of fighting continues on as though they hadn't been gifted with the illumination of perception. Not even the Zealites suspect him – likely having underestimated him from their last confrontation - and so he dives, skids along the floor and wields the Power Pole wide. The pole of course extends at a speed far greater than Goten can manage, and so it shimmies through the air until ending dead centre between the fingers of a most ill-fated Zealite.
He only knows it's made contact from the ping it makes from hitting the acquired target. The relic – it must be, or at least something equally as important because the Zealite had been handling it like a prize – bounces along the floor, rolling along like a marble on a mission. It's about the size of one. And if Goten hadn't already been travelling with momentum with hand out at the ready, he might have missed capturing it entirely.
Awkwardly for him, the next thing to be collected off of the floor is him.
Crap! This guy's fast, he realizes as he's lifted ever higher.
"Ged' off!"
"Return it," the Zealite startlingly speaks. It catches Goten off with his accent so thick and his voice deep. "The Orb. Give it to me."
Goten clasps the teeny-tiny sphere in a death grip. His legs rise up and soon enough he's more akin to a ball than anything else, held only by the back of his top.
"…Do you want to die?" The whisper would be enough to haunt him if he knew it went beyond an empty threat.
"Go on then," Goten dares, sounding far braver than he really is. "D…Do it."
"…"
Behind, a flurry of foreign shouting gets the attention of this particular Zealite, and he responds in suit, yelling back. He sounds a bit… angry. No moves are made against Goten however, no moves are made at all, really – there seems to be some form of stalemate. He can only dangle as the darkness holds him still there, seemingly about as lost at what to do next as he is.
So, Goten outlines his single demand. "Take me to Gohan."
"…"
"Take me to my brother!" His patience thins when he's yet again ignored. "I know you have him!"
The Zealite holding him says something to the second Zealite and by the time that second Zealite turns to respond, they are no longer alone. Dad descends first, followed by Trunks and ultimately by Vegeta. Where have the other Zealites gone? Did they defeat them?
"Goten!" Dad calls. As soon as he puts a step closer, a blade – now floodlit from the surrounding Super Saiyan glow – presses its point into Goten's side. "Ugh, l-let him go. He's just a kid!"
"As soon as he gives up the Orb of Permanence we shall be on our way," the Zealite responds, calm as can be, as though this event of life and death just so happens to be thrust upon them every other weekend.
"Dad, they won't do anything," Goten assures, "They're full of crap –yeoouch!"
The point grows a little sharper.
"Release the orb, Goten Son," the Zealite says. "You do not want to put your father through a second loss, do you?"
Oh, for that, Goten thrusts a foot back, catching the asshole in the gut. There's zero satisfaction however – the guy doesn't even flinch.
"For God's sake, give him the orb!" Trunks snaps. He's panicking. Blood dribbles from between his teeth but otherwise he's fine. They're all fine. Why can't they see that this is fine?
"They have Gohan!" Goten reveals, "I'm not giving them this until they bring him here or they take me there. They'll have to cut my hands off."
"Easily arranged."
Dad's now sweating. "Goten… Give him the relic."
"But, Dad—!"
"Goten, I'm not asking you. Give it to him."
"I thought you wanted to find Gohan."
"I do!" he yells, eyes pressed so tightly that his head looks ready to combust. "But I'm not risking you—"
"Gohan was murdered!"
"I know!"
"No, listen, Dad, the first time, they… Look, these guys know more than – ummph!" A glove holds firm over Goten's mouth, and that blade – the one giving quite the ache in his side – journeys all the way up and along to his throat. It scratches teasingly.
"I will give you a moment to consider your life, child. Think about how this blade would feel deeply embedded in your neck. I assure you it would not be my first time doing such a thing. Now, when I remove my hand and my blade, you're going to give me the Orb of Permanence, and then I can pass you along to the other saiyans over there."
Dad's eyes are pleading. Goten's never seen such a look in them before, not for him.
"Do we have an agreement?"
Deliberately, Goten nods. Dad smiles as best he can.
Both sides have an understanding it seems and, so finger by finger, the Zealite removes his hand from Goten's mouth, that blade retreats and the air becomes much easier to breathe.
He still holds Goten's flimsy blue top by the scruff and Goten turns left and then right ever so slowly. Time stretches out painfully after whirling by so fast, and so it's with bated breath, his audience watches as Goten so very gradually levels the orb up higher.
"That's right. Give it to me..."
Dad twitches his head up and down, looking defeated before the fight has even ended.
The Zealite grows irked. "The Orb…"
But Goten doesn't rush. He appreciates the smallness of the orb, the smoothness. He rolls it around in his hand. In fact, he appreciates it so much that he swallows it down in one.
"…"
When Goten had expected chaos, he's given silence. Even the Zealites – all two of them now – have nothing to say. He just churns there, still in their hold, orb-less.
Goten coughs. "T-Take me to Gohan."
The Zealite holding him seems to be broken. Whatever Goten just did seems to have triggered a malfunction in him somehow as stiff, subtle jerking motions have Goten wobble a little more than he had been just moments ago.
Trunks breaks from the stupor first. "GOTEN, YOU IDIOT!"
Dad recognizes it as a rare moment of weakness from the Zealites and moves to charge, but the blade is quick, the Zealites faster. Goten feels the shrill sensation of the knife digging into his throat. This guy wants to do it. He really does, and he can't – for some reason he can't, and it makes Goten want to laugh.
"Let him go or I'll kill all of you!" Dad exclaims, stepping forward. His aura slashes out, kissing like embers and Vegeta has to snatch him by his arm. "I won't lose him, too."
But Dad isn't the one with the knife stuttering against someone's throat. He has very few cards to play. They'd already seen what this knife did to Vegeta months ago and that hadn't been pretty. To them, this threat is real.
"They won't hurt me," Goten says desperately. "Can't you see wha—umpph!"
The hand covers his mouth once more and Goten is undoubtedly censored. The Zealite holding him lowers Goten to the ground but doesn't release him; the knife stays where it's always been as he speaks to the second Zealite in a foreign shout. The second responds, and a conversation is born. Goten's eyeballs bounce between the two like a ball in a game of tennis, the tone increasingly getting louder with every return. Clearly, a domestic is being had.
Goten is manhandled particularly roughly as though he's being used as a prop to prove a point.
"Let the boy go," Vegeta says, very much more tempered than the others. "He's clearly no use to you. You can return for the relic when... Damn it, Goten."
"We'll give it to you," Trunks adds. "J-Just… please, Goten…"
"Let the boy go."
No, Goten knows what he wants. That's why he swallowed that bloody thing in the first place.
"I mmmff— my'bruver – mff!"
"Your brother is dead, you little idiot! Don't be so brain dead as Kakarot to—"
Goten is shuffled; the Zealite takes him by the stomach and when he does, Goten lets out a burp from behind the gloved hand. A cloud of purple emerges between fingers, sparkling. It tastes faintly of cinnamon.
Silence yet again follows.
Then, the second Zealite swears. Goten has no idea what he said or what it means but he knows a swear word when he hears one.
The one holding him – the deep sounding, mean one – seems to be the decision maker. He says something to the other one and soon enough, they're moving.
"Goten!"
Dad is approaching, face shredded with anguish, but he's too slow. The world is fading. Smoky clouds surround him and the Zealites, and the feeling of taking flight soon flips Goten's stomach into a spin. Earth becomes shrouded, his world becomes distant; Goten is being taken elsewhere.
The last thing he sees, before being teleported, is the crushing heartbreak from Trunks, and most painfully, from his father.
I'm sorry but… I need the truth.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Wow, when was the last time we had a Gohan-less chapter? It has been a while. The next chapter, too, is Goten centric because he's going to be a busy boy! Hopefully, there won't be too much a wait for the next installment. I got this one out pretty fast because of the lockdown here *white guy smile*, and things are still a bit rubbish so I'll likely be around to write... Woo.
As usual, thanks to Kags for beta-ing. Her, along with Emeraldsaiyan and Nyx have been a blessin' on this one because it was kicking my ass.
I'm gonna' note here that if you think the Zealites were OOC and should have just cut the orb outta' Goten's belly, remember Gohan's orders. He's been pretty clear on keeping those he values safe and unhurt, and the Zealites don't wanna' piss off the boss; that wouldn't be good, would it? Things are speeding up and I'm buzzing about where we're going next with the story - things are moving. Oh, Goten, you sweet boy. How matters shall complicate.
Cheers for all reviews, PMs and feedback. I'd love to hear what you think so drop us' your thoughts if this angsty mess brings you any sort of joy (you sadist, you). Sick. All right. See you on the next one!
