The years passed in relative quiet.
Bardock and Gohan grew close. With limited father figures in his life, Gohan came to his grandfather with all the embarrassing questions after realising that Piccolo wouldn't be helpful. This opened the floodgates for more conversation, and despite Bardock's aversion to sentiment, he let his grandson talk about anything that bothered him. Even if it meant the occasional emotional breakdown.
Though not fully back to his old self, Gohan was doing much better.
The visions came fairly often, but were of little to no consequence- a glimpse of Piccolo guarding the Earth from his perch on the lookout; a peak of Vegeta threatening a trespassing reporter at Capsule Corp. It'd been a long time since Gohan's visions had been calm and non-disastrous, but he didn't mind.
The Earth was finally at peace.
"It ain't gonna last," Bardock said, his voice low as if he didn't want to disturb Gohan's thoughts. "You know that."
The tall teenager turned to see his Saiyan grandfather laying on the ground, arms folded underneath his head.
Gohan sighed, taking a seat next to the older man. The pair sat on yet another tournament stage, but Gohan knew it wasn't the Cell Games arena. For one, the tiles were still intact, but there were also tiered rows of seats surrounding them. Though this arena could easily seat thousands of spectators, Gohan and Bardock were alone in the boy's subconscious, as usual.
"Why?" Gohan finally asked.
Bardock raised an eyebrow. "Why what?"
"Why can't I just have a normal life?" Gohan sighed, looking off into the distance. "Why does peace never last? Why do I have visions? Why are my visions of you different from the others? Why are our fates connected in the first place? There's just so many questions, Gramps, and I never get any answers!"
Sitting up, the dead Saiyan cleared his throat. "I know, kid. I know you've had a difficult life, but…" he trailed off, unsure of you to comfort his grandson.
Running a hand through his thick hair, Gohan looked back to his grandfather. After a moment, he mumbled, "Thanks."
Confused, Bardock said, "For what? I didn't say anything."
"Thanks for being here."
"Gohan?" his mother said in a disapproving tone. He had been frozen in place for nearly a minute, his hand still poised to open the front door. The psychic connection broken, Gohan shook his head before sheepishly turning to face his mother.
"What's up, Mom?"
She walked up to him, arms crossed. "Is there any particular reason you're going out without a shirt?"
Hand scratching the back of his neck, Gohan chuckled. "Ah… nice weather?"
With a sigh, Chi-Chi's arms fell to her sides. "Listen, Gohan," she said. "If you're growing again, just tell me. I can get you new clothes-"
"Mom, it's fine-"
"No," she retorted, holding up a hand to silence him. "It's not fine! I'll not have my only child running around looking like some delinquent!"
Crossing his thick arms across a broad chest, Gohan looked down at his mother. Now sixteen, he had undergone several radical growth spurts lately. He now stood a head taller than his mother, and his increasing muscle mass certainly didn't help his wardrobe issue.
"I'm just going to see Piccolo, maybe train for a bit," Gohan argued. "You know Piccolo's not gonna care what I look like. He can even zap me a gi if I ask nicely."
"We are not taking handouts from the Earth's Guardian!" Chi-Chi exclaimed, appalled by the thought. "We are not that poor, Son Gohan! We're doing just fine. I'm the adult, so let me worry about running the household. I'm sure the Ox Kingdom doesn't want their only prince to run around half-naked either!"
He sighed. "I just don't want to stress you out."
She placed a hand on his cheek. "I know," she said. "You're such a good boy. But we definitely need to take you shopping again."
"Mom-"
"Listen up, mister," she demanded, poking a stubborn finger into his hard chest. "I don't care that you're the most powerful person in the world. I will knock some sense into you. Do I make myself clear?"
For once, Gohan wasn't rattled by her threats. Instead, a sly smile formed on his face as he thought about her words. "You're on," he finally said.
Turning to run out the door, Chi-Chi promptly followed him, the pair laughing as the wind rushed by them. After a minute or so, the two had reached a rather sparse field a mile from their house. Collecting himself, Gohan crouched into his fighting stance.
His mother rushed him, but he avoided her chop easily. Eyes narrowed in determination, she attacked relentlessly, her horizontal palms striking like a snake. Her son stayed in his base form, content to be challenged with her impressive speed and agility. Despite being faster, Gohan's growth had also meant he was bigger and buffer than ever. He found his body's changes to be a slight impediment on the fighting style he had honed with Piccolo, and so his mother was the perfect sparring partner for him to adjust his techniques.
The two fought until lunch time.
Through death, Gohan and Chi-Chi had grown closer than ever. Though still adamant that Gohan would never fight a villain ever again, Chi-Chi allowed him to resume training. The tall young man beside her reminded her of his father, as he now looked much like Goku did around the time if their engagement. She couldn't help but keep their connection to Goku alive in the only way the remaining Sons knew how- through martial arts.
That, and she would do anything to make her baby happy.
"Mom, I'm a little old for that, don't you think?" Gohan said, blushing slightly when Chi-Chi lamented the passing of years. The wind whipped through his short, thick hair, his father's signature gi ruffling in response.
"Nonsense," Chi-Chi waved off. "You may be taller than me now, but I'll always call you my baby. I can't believe how much you've grown!"
Gohan huffed, but didn't object. He instead continued to fly alongside his mother, both of them carrying several capsules worth of lunch. As they zipped through the clouds, the sprawling expanse of West City was soon visible.
"You look so much like your father now," Chi-Chi said suddenly, a sad smile gracing her ageing features.
Gohan couldn't help but smile, too.
"And since the only things that seem to fit you are his clothes..." Chi-Chi muttered. "It's definitely time we took a trip into town."
Groaning, Gohan dipped low through the sky, promoting his mother to chase after him and scold her son for being childish.
The pair reached Capsule Corp. within minutes, a broad table already set-up in the backyard. Bulma Briefs waved to them as they landed, engulfing Gohan in a rough hug.
"When the hell did you get so big?" she demanded, looking to Chi-Chi for answers. "What've you been feeding him?"
Before Chi-Chi could stop laughing long enough to answer, a little boy rocketed toward her son, nearly knocking him through the fence.
"Trunks," Bulma teased.
Ignoring her, the youngest half-Saiyan peered up at the Son boy, small arms wrapped around thick legs. "Gohan!" he yelled. "I haven't seen you in forever!"
Running a hand through the child's lilac hair, Gohan smiled at someone he thought of as a little brother. "What are you talking about, squirt? I saw you just last month for the holidays."
"Enough with this idle chatter," the gruff voice of Vegeta commanded. "Have you or have you not brought the meal?"
With an irritated sigh, Chi-Chi growled, "Always a pleasure, Vegeta."
"Hmph."
The Saiyan-blooded males tore through Chi-Chi's feast as though they hadn't eaten in weeks. Bulma looked on in disapproval, but ignored the display, much like Chi-Chi was trying hard to do.
"So that's the only thing that fits, huh?" Bulma asked, shaking her head.
"Yeah," Chi-Chi confirmed, picking at her fried rice. "He grew another three inches in just the past month alone. I'm at my wits' end!"
Sipping at her glass of wine, Bulma waved off her friend's dramatics. "You remember how different Goku looked at the 23rd World Martial Arts Tournament, right? That man was off training for three years and came back two and a half feet taller!"
Chi-Chi nodded, looking past Trunks to see her own son give her a sheepish smile. He sat back in his chair, the space in front of him littered with empty platters and napkins.
"I can't believe you didn't see that one coming, Gohan!" Bulma laughed.
Eyes wide in fear, Gohan's energy spiked, prompting Vegeta, Trunks, and Chi-Chi to look up at him in response.
"See what?" Trunks asked innocently.
The teenage boy looked to Bulma, then to his mother, and Bulma slapped a hand over her mouth.
"See what?" Chi-Chi echoed. While the statement meant nothing to her, their reactions ignited her suspicion.
"Nothing," Gohan blurted out, his deep voice cracking for the first time in nearly a year. "It's nothing."
"Yeah," Bulma chimed in, her lie coming out much smoother. "It's just a little joke. You know, from our trip to Namek."
Sensing the heightened tension, Vegeta side-eyed the oldest half-Saiyan.
"A joke?" Chi-Chi said in a dangerously calm voice, her maternal instincts kicking into gear. Something was off- they were hiding something from her! She could see it plainly in her son's panicked eyes. "I'd love to hear it."
The boy didn't answer.
"Gohan," she said, her strong voice firm and unyielding.
Seeing her oldest child look to Bulma, eyes pleading, Chi-Chi lost her temper. Turning to the blue-haired woman, she yelled, "What in the world is going on? What did you do to my son?"
Bulma baulked at the accusation, her fiery personality rising to the accusing tone of voice. "Me?" she yelled, flinging her hands into either side of her. "I didn't do anything! You're overreacting, just like you always do-"
"I can see the future."
All eyes turned to Gohan, the meek words having slipped out of his mouth as soon as he realized refusing his mother would be pointless. Everyone was silent. Chi-Chi's jaw went slack. Bulma slid down in her chair, defeated. Trunks looked intrigued, sitting up straighter. Vegeta's sharp eyes settled on his wife, trying to pull answers from her through body language alone.
"I'm sorry, Gohan," Bulma whispered, her sincere blue eyes looking down in guilt. "I really didn't mean to- I'm sorry."
His throat dry, Gohan reassured her. "It's okay," he said weakly. "It's not your fault-"
"What do you mean you can see the future?" Chi-Chi asked, clearly baffled. "Just what is that supposed to mean?"
Fat drops of sweat gathered at Gohan's brow, and he felt faint at the thought of his mother's reaction.
"He saw Vegeta and Nappa's arrival on Earth," Bulma interjected. "He saw it before it happened."
Vegeta's neck made an audible crack as it whipped around, his black eyes burning through the teenager. "You…" he said slowly, as if the words were foreign on his tongue. "You have... visions?"
"Does that mean you know how many fingers I'm holding up?" Trunks piped up, his arm quickly folding behind him.
"Go inside, Trunks."
The little boy blinked- his father never called him by name. Boy, Brat, Child… but never Trunks. The act also unnerved Bulma, who realized Vegeta was taking this news very seriously.
Short legs sliding off the chair, Trunks backed up a few feet before looking to his mother in confusion. She nodded, and the 6-year-old hurried inside.
As soon as she heard the door shut, Chi-Chi jumped down Vegeta's throat. "You knew about this, too?" she accused.
Vegeta, for once, simply furrowed his brow instead of firing back at her. His voice sounded oddly strangled as he sent a glare toward Gohan. "No. I did not."
Chi-Chi's anger lost steam as she saw the man's serious expression.
"Explain yourself, boy," Vegeta said. Feeling thoroughly admonished, Gohan quietly began to tell his audience about his unique ability. He even recounted the strange presence of his Saiyan grandfather.
"Oh, my poor baby!" Chi-Chi wailed, tears springing to her eyes. "What have you been seeing? Please tell me nothing else is going to happen!"
"Chi-Chi, please," Bulma started. "He's a big boy, he can handle it-"
"You don't understand! None of you understand!" she screamed in response. "Nothing about his life is normal. He shouldn't have to have one thing after another shoved down his throat!"
With a sigh, Bulma had to agree. "I know, but-"
"She's right," Vegeta said, looking at the table, concentration etched across his stern features.
Everyone looked to the Prince of Saiyans, clearly startled. Before they could ask, he clarified, "The harpy is right." He looked to the half-Saiyan. "This does not sit well with me. You are aware that, in the end, these visions are what led Bardock to his death, yes?"
"Vegeta, are you saying you're worried about Gohan?" Bulma asked, incredulous.
"What I'm saying," Vegeta started through clenched teeth, "is that Kakarot and his family have an uncanny ability to attract trouble."
His chair fell to the ground as he stood, lunging sideways to pull Gohan from his chair by the front of his shirt in one swift movement.
"Which brings me to my next question," Vegeta sneered. "Why have you withheld this information from me? Are you content to watch your allies fail when you could be providing valuable intel?"
Despite being physically stronger than Vegeta, Gohan did not like the direction the conversation was headed. Twisting Vegeta's wrist to pry the man from his shirt, Gohan stepped back as the two separated. "Of course not!" he said, struggling to stay calm. "I just didn't want anybody to freak out. Nothing is set in stone- sometimes the future changes, and so do my visions!"
Vegeta crossed his arms, and Bulma and Chi-Chi watched the two men carefully. Taking that as his cue to continue, Gohan added, "If I had told you guys what I'd seen- the moment you know, the future would change. You would know, and you would try to do things differently, which means that vision likely wouldn't come true anymore. You would be working with outdated information, Vegeta."
A few moments passed before Vegeta abruptly turned. He stomped inside his home, ignoring the protests from the women still seated.
The boy may have had a point, but the situation still didn't sit well with Vegeta.
Fists clenched, he headed straight for the gravity room. He recalled the rumours from Frieza's men concerning Bardock, the lone Saiyan who had stood up to Frieza on Planet Vegeta's last day.
The day the "meteor" had hit.
"Damn monkey knew exactly what Lord Frieza was planning," one said. "Must've been a spy, trying to bide time for time for the Saiyans to overthrow us."
"Yeah, said he started having weird dreams after the Kanassa mission," another soldier laughed. "The guy was nuts, that's for sure."
Setting the gravity to the highest he could withstand without transforming, Vegeta flowed through a series of katas to warm up.
The boy must've somehow inherited his psychic power from Bardock- that much was clear to Vegeta. Yet Bardock had gained this ability through the Kanassans, after Kakarot's birth, making the trait impossible to pass on through traditional genetic means.
Not to mention that Bardock's endeavour had ultimately failed. The rugged Saiyan warrior had had the chance to save their entire race, only to be slaughtered upon failing to serve his purpose.
"So, why?" Vegeta wondered, his muscles straining under the intense pressure as he evaded another training bot.
"For what purpose has such a gift- a weapon, even- been given to the boy?"