Guilt
The sound of the backdoor of the Capsule Corporation compound slamming shut was followed by the rapid footsteps of a young warrior and the hysterical sobs of a distraught woman. The footsteps faded and the sobbing died down as another woman's gentle voice drifted through the kitchen as she consoled her heartbroken friend.
"There, there, Chi, it'll be ok. You know he wanted it this way," Bulma said, trying to comfort the very pregnant brunette woman.
Chichi choked back a sob and nodded, but her face was still contorted in the most forlorn expression her friend had ever seen. "I know, Bulma. I've – I've tried to accept that. But I can't stand what it's doing to Go-Gohan." She broke down in another bout of tears at the thought of her poor baby bearing the guilt of his father's death.
Bulma knelt down next to Chichi's chair and soothingly rubbed her back. There was little she could do or say for the poor widow. It was the second time her husband died, but unlike last time, there was no hope of him eventually returning. This time, he chose to stay dead for good. In a way, Bulma thought he was being horribly selfish, choosing to have his adventure in Otherworld instead of coming home to his family. At the same time, though, she knew he made his choice with the well-being of the whole world in mind. Selfish and selfless at the same time, Goku was dead forever.
'Poor Chichi. And poor Gohan. He's only a boy, it's not right for his father to leave him when he's still so young. And Chichi's going to have a baby who will never know his father because he's gone.' Bulma shook her head sadly and pulled Chichi into an embrace.
The quiet moment was interrupted when the kitchen door flew open and the saiyan prince stalked in, glaring at the two women as if whatever problem he had was because of them. "Would someone care to tell me why that brat is outside sulking again?"
Bulma stood up and scowled at her mate. "He's upset that his father passed away, you inconsiderate jerk! It's not like he's causing you any trouble, why should you care where he chooses to do his 'sulking?'"
Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and sneered at the blue-haired woman. The boy was causing him plenty of trouble, as a matter of fact! He was outside, lying in the backyard, minding his own business, when the clown's whelp came outside crying like a girl with his ki spiking and dropping erratically with his ridiculous human emotions. It was more than enough to grate on the prince's nerves and he wanted to get the harpy and her brat out of his home so he could have some peace for a change. Ever since the damned woman found out she was with child she came to the compound nearly every day to lament her horrible lot in life. And the brat wasn't much better, often throwing tantrums, brooding around the compound, and for some completely unknown reason seeking consolation from him from time to time. He didn't care that the brat was upset about his father's death, he had more important things to worry about! Like… how much he wished the third-class clown wasn't dead.
"I care because his ki is completely unstable and it is driving me crazy!" he snapped.
Bulma threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. Leave it to Vegeta to only think of himself. Couldn't he see that the Sons were heartbroken? Didn't he care at all how they felt? 'Dumb question,' she thought bitterly. 'He doesn't give a damn about Chichi or Gohan.'
"Well, then, Vegeta," she hissed through clenched teeth, "Why don't you go see if you can cheer him up and maybe his ki will settle down and you can go back to whatever you were doing before he so thoughtlessly ruined your day!" She knew as well as he did that he hadn't been doing anything important before Chichi's visit. Every day he went through the exact same routine, spending the whole morning lying in the backyard gazing up at the sky, lost in thought. Then after lunch – where he hardly ate much of anything, even for a human – he went back to his private room and sat on the edge of his bed staring at the wall until it was too dark to see. He was mourning too, in his own way. She knew that's what he was doing, but there was no possible way to get him to admit it. He missed 'Kakarrot.' Or at least he missed having another living full-blooded saiyan around.
"Why would I waste my time on that brat?" he asked quietly. He clenched his hands into fists at his sides and glowered at the polished tile floor.
Bulma understood that he wasn't looking for an answer when he asked that question. He wasn't asking because he resented the idea of making Gohan feel better, he was asking because he had no comfort to give. She knew that, had he the ability to make Gohan cheer up, he would do it, if only to save himself from having to feel the boy's ki rising and falling with his turbulent emotions. He mentioned a few times how irritating it was, so she already knew how much it bothered him when Gohan came with Chichi to visit.
"Vegeta," Bulma said, taking his arm and guiding him out of the kitchen. "Look. Gohan's been feeling pretty bad about Goku dying. He's blaming himself for his death. Now, we both know that's not true, but he thinks it is. Maybe you can convince him otherwise? You were there, you know what really happened."
Vegeta looked at her incredulously. Kakarrot's death wasn't his son's fault? In what universe? He was there and did see what happened. It was Gohan's fault his father died and it was his fault that Mirai Trunks was killed – though he was brought back to life. Vegeta would not forgive Gohan for his recklessness when he was fighting Cell. Had he listened to the others, his father would still be alive because he wouldn't have had to sacrifice himself when Cell got desperate and decided to blow up the whole planet.
He shook his head. He knew the truth as well as the boy. The idiot clown was dead because his son was too foolish to finish Cell off when he had the chance. He would not lie to the boy and tell him that wasn't true. It wasn't his style to sugarcoat or bury the truth under lies and half-truths. Damn right it was the boy's fault. He should be feeling the burden of guilt.
"Woman, you give the boy too much credit," he snarled as he stalked out of the compound to return to his spot in the yard where he spent hours looking up at the clear blue sky.
Gohan was seated in the freshly cut grass when he heard the door swing open and slam shut. He didn't have to open his eyes to know who it was. He could feel the older warrior's ki from a mile away. He sighed when he felt it drawing closer, fearing the saiyan prince would come demanding a spar or give some other absurd command. With such low expectations, he was shocked when he felt Vegeta's ki right next to him, then heard him sit down. He cracked one eye open and looked over at the flame-haired saiyan. He was looking up at the sky, just as he always was when Gohan saw him outside.
"The woman told me you're upset that your father is dead."
Gohan was confused by Vegeta's blunt statement, but that confusion was soon replaced with a burning rage. "Of course I'm upset that he's dead! He was my father and I killed him!"
Vegeta snorted at the boy's temper. "So what if you did, brat? You can't change it now."
"If this is some attempt at making me feel better," Gohan growled, "you're failing miserably. Leave me alone, Vegeta."
"You will shut your mouth and listen to what I have to say, boy," Vegeta barked. He finally turned to the boy, challenging him to interrupt again. Gohan could see anger burning in his obsidian eyes and decided to back down.
Seeing the boy's submission, Vegeta turned back to the sky and proceeded with what he came to say. "You think you're so terrible for killing your father? You think it's your fault that he's dead? I'm not going to lie to you and say that it isn't. Yes, it is your fault that fool Kakarrot is dead. It's your fault you got too damn arrogant and refused to kill Cell when he told you to. It's your fault Cell got desperate and hatched his stupid plan to blow up the Earth. So it's your fault Kakarrot had to be the ultimate kami-damned hero and give his life to save everyone.
"Your harpy mother thinks you're too young to feel such a load of responsibility. You're too damn young to feel the guilt you do because your idiot father is dead. I say that is a load of shit."
Gohan's eyes shot back to the prince, his mouth working but no sound coming out. He wanted to argue. He wanted to yell at Vegeta for speaking of his father so disrespectfully. He wanted more than anything to make the pain go away, the pain that Vegeta was only making worse by digging up the thoughts he was trying so hard to bury in the deepest recesses of his mind.
"Hold your tongue, boy," Vegeta growled. "I told you I'm not going to comfort you. I'm telling you the truth. And here it is: You think your life, simply put, sucks. You think you don't deserve to go on living when your fool father is gone. You think it should have been you who died fighting Cell. Maybe it should have been. It's not my place to say. You could go on feeling sorry for yourself either way, or you could get over it and move on with life. You're still alive, he's not. Whether or not it's your fault, there's nothing you can do about it."
"You can't just expect me to act as if nothing happened!" Gohan shouted, his fists clenching in his lap.
Vegeta's lip curled in a snarl, silencing the young demi-saiyan. "No, you can never act as if nothing happened. But you want to know a secret, boy? The pain. Never. Heals. Never. So you can choose to live moping around your whole life or you can choose to go on living without him."
"But I miss him so much," he whimpered. He felt hot tears stinging his eyes and tightly closed his eyes to hold them back. He couldn't allow himself to cry in front of Vegeta.
"Get up, brat."
"Huh?"
Vegeta stood up and crossed his arms over his chest while he waited for Gohan to get to his feet as well. When the boy was standing in front of him, he backhanded him, knocking him back to the ground.
Gohan wiped his bloody lip with the back of his hand and glared up at the prince. "What was that for?" he demanded.
"Get up."
Angrily, Gohan pushed himself back up to his feet. As soon as he was upright, Vegeta spun into a roundhouse kick and floored him again.
"Get up."
As if a fire had been ignited in his gut, Gohan roared as he jumped back to his feet, full of blinding fury. When Vegeta swung his fist at him, he caught his hand and retaliated with his own punch, which Vegeta caught. Gohan roared again and tried to break free, but Vegeta held onto him and wouldn't let him out of his grasp. He blocked the kicks sent his way and waited for the boy's anger to burn out.
"I hate you! Kami, I hate you!" Gohan shouted. "I hate you, I hate you!"
"Like I give a damn," Vegeta muttered. He waited until Gohan's resistance stopped and tears started flowing down his flushed cheeks. He let go of the demi-saiyan's hands and watched him crumple to the ground, his body wracked with deep sobs of grief.
"I hate you, Vegeta, I hate you," Gohan mumbled as if it were a mantra.
Vegeta knelt down next to Gohan and roughly grabbed his hair to lift his head and make him face him. "No, who you hate is yourself. You're turning your hatred out on me because I'm making you feel the things you've been trying to suppress for months."
Gohan swung his fist at Vegeta again, but like last time it was caught in the prince's hand. He growled in frustrated and pounded his other fist against the ground.
"I know what you feel, boy," Vegeta whispered, barely audible over Gohan's sobbing. "I know because I, too, am responsible for my father's death. Indirectly or not, I killed him. You think your life is so horrible? At least your brainless father chose death! My father died trying to save me, just as yours did. The fools. I was eight years old when he died. Eight years old when my father, my people, and my kingdom were taken from me. Do not cry to me about how unfair it is that your father is dead. I survived, and so will you. Stop this foolishness and get on with your life."
An uncomfortable silence fell over them for a few moments while Gohan mulled over what Vegeta told him. He never thought about how he wasn't alone in his feelings. About how there was someone else out there who understood what he was going through. He never thought that it was Vegeta of all people who could bring his thoughts and feelings to the surface where he was forced to deal with them. Yes, deal with them when he had tried so hard for so long to ignore them.
"Th-thank you, Vegeta," Gohan mumbled.
"Hn." Vegeta released his hold on the boy's hair and stood up, crossing his arms over his chest as he stalked back into the compound to find a more secluded location.
Gohan watched the saiyan go before he disappeared inside. He was stunned into silence, stunned that the prince would speak to him about his own past. He was shocked at how much he actually did have in common with the callous warrior and hoped he wouldn't become like that when he was older. Mostly, though, he was surprised at how much better he felt after his little 'talk' with Vegeta. He was forced to recognize what he was feeling and why he was feeling it, and for the first time, he wasn't lied to about whether he was at fault for his father's death. The truth hurt, but the lies his friends and family told him were more unbearable.
His methods were a little unorthodox, but Vegeta helped Gohan start the healing process.
A/N: Not much to say. But I do want reviews.