Author's Note: I openly admit that I'm not thrilled with how this chapter turned out, but this was the best I could get it for now.

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Gohan was standing just outside his front door, his arms crossed over his chest as he shifted nervously. He had been informed by his father only moments earlier the two purebloods were going to be returning to the Earth, and the teenager knew that they would need his high energy level in order to get home. He didn't mind playing sign post, really. But all of the knowledge that he had come into in the past few days was eating away at him, and he couldn't help but feel responsible.

Of course, it didn't take long before the young man saw his father and prince appear before him. Gohan closed his eyes and gagged slightly as the smell of gore hit his nostrils, and he quickly pinched his nose and turned away.

"The stream's about a half mile south of the house," he coughed, cracking an eye open at the prince. He covered his nose with his elbow and tossed a capsule at the shorter man. "There are clean clothes in there, but they're mine so they might be a little long on you. And don't worry, there's soap in there, too."

Vegeta looked curiously at the capsule, but silently accepted it and turned south to clean up. As he watched the prince disappear into the night, Goku turned again to his son. For the first time, Gohan saw the streaks left by tears that lined his father's face.

"So…are you okay?" he nervously asked.

Goku's lip began to quiver as he lowered his gaze. "It was horrible," he whispered. "The blood, the screaming, the…the carnage, Gohan…it was…" His large body began to quiver as he clearly remembered what he had seen on that planet. "Gohan, I've never seen or smelled or felt anything like that. I could actually smell death, Gohan. I could smell it…"

The teenager gave his father an empathetic smile. "I know, Dad," he quietly said as he placed a comforting hand on his father's shoulder. "I remember what it smelled like."

With a horrified look on his face, Goku looked his son in the eye. "When…"

"Piccolo," Gohan quietly answered. "His entire body was engulfed in a ki blast when we were fighting off the…" The teenager stopped before he finished the sentence. It was a force of habit to say they were fighting 'The Saiyans', but over the past few years he had found that he disliked that phrase. He almost felt like a traitor to his own blood for using those words, like he was calling himself the enemy. "…when Napa killed him," he finally finished.

With sad eyes, Goku looked back on his son. "How did you forget it?" the father asked. "How did you get that smell out of your head?"

Gohan quietly hugged his father. There was no way that he could tell his father that you don't ever forget that smell. He had always assumed that his father had already been exposed to it, that somewhere in the Saiyan's life he had smelled death before. It had been such an impacting part of Gohan's own childhood that it had never dawned on him that his father had not experienced the same thing.

The teenager continued to stroke his father's back in a comforting manner. The irony of the situation was anything but lost on him. He, the child, had to become the father figure for his own father.

"Why don't you go inside?" Gohan eventually said, stepping back from his father. "Take a nice hot shower, get cleaned up, and you'll feel a lot better."

Goku offered his son a weak smile. "You sound just like your mother," he quietly said.

Gohan simply smiled and stepped back, allowing his father access to the door. "I'll be in a little later," he said.

The pureblood didn't need to be told where his son was going. "Be careful," was all Goku said before stepping inside. He really, really needed to relax, and he had more than enough faith in his son's abilities to handle the situation.

As soon as his father had shut the door, Gohan flew south toward the stream. It only took him a few seconds before he spotted the prince cleaning off in the icy water. The hybrid cleared his throat loudly as he landed, wanting to make absolutely certain that the prince knew he was there. After all, the man's back was turned.

"That was unnecessary, boy," Vegeta stated as he ran the soap over his bloody hands.

Gohan simply shrugged. "I figured that you could sense me approaching, but I thought I would cover my bases, just to be safe."

The two stood in silence for several minutes before Vegeta finally spoke again.

"Why did you have this ready when we arrived?" he asked, still not turning to look at the boy.

Once again, Gohan offered a noncommittal shrug. "Piccolo brought your still unconscious son to my house and had my mom call me to tell me what happened. When I got home, he told me that you had asked Dad to take you to some unknown place way the hell away from the Earth. It just seemed to me like the only reason you would do that was to blow off a little steam." The teenager shifted his weight from foot to foot before adding, "Of course, I had assumed that you were going to be taking it out on Dad, so I had one ready for him, too."

Vegeta snorted. "I suppose your father told you what happened, then?"

"Well, not really," Gohan honestly answered. "But the smell, the funky colored blood, and the fact that you're the only one covered in it didn't leave a lot to figure out."

"And I suppose that when I turn around, you'll have that pathetic look in your eyes before you tell me that the Vegeta you know would never do that?"

It was Gohan's turn to snort. "Hardly," he responded. "The Vegeta I know takes out the bulk of his aggression in some form of violence. He's just a lot more selective on who he takes it out on these days than he was, say, fifteen years ago."

Vegeta froze in the river. "So you expect this sort of violent behavior from me."

It was a statement, clearly, and one that Gohan needed to think about before answering. "Look, Vegeta," he finally started, "I've known you my entire life. I've known you as my enemy, I've known you as my ally, I've known you as the father of my brother's best friend, I've known you as a sparring partner…hell, I've even known you as the guy I had to turn to when puberty hit to tell me what the hell was going on. I know you, Vegeta, and I know you pretty well."

The prince remained silent and facing away, knowing that the boy was not done.

"And because I know you, Vegeta," Gohan went on, "I know that you are best able to deal with your emotions in a physical manner. From what I've heard, when you're in a really bad mood, you usually just take it out on yourself in the gravity room. In the last year, you've been taking it out on Dad a lot. But for something like this, I'm really not surprised that you needed something a little more…substantial than trying to punch my dad in the face."

"And genocide does not bother you?" Vegeta sneered in return, still refusing to turn around.

Gohan shook his head. "Look, I'm not saying that it was the best way for you to handle it, but like I said earlier, I know you. And you, the way you are today, would not just pick a random planet and go to town on it. You would pick a place that was probably on its last leg anyway." The hybrid held his breath as he waited for a reaction, any reaction, which would prove his theory right. If he was right, then while what Vegeta did was wrong, it was forgivable.

If he was wrong, then they had a serious problem on their hands.

At long last, the prince turned and looked him in the eye. "You really aren't afraid of what I might do to this world, are you?" he asked.

Gohan almost shook as the wave of relief hit him. When Vegeta did something truly bad, he avoided eye contact. While he still didn't think that what Vegeta had done was, by any stretch of the imagination, right, at least it wasn't too far down on the 'wrong' list. Relived, Gohan shook his head. "I'm really not," he honestly replied. "You've called this planet your home for a long time now, Vegeta, and I know you wouldn't take your anger out on it." Again, he added as an afterthought.

When he saw that the prince was about to argue with him, Gohan held up his hands in surrender. "Look," he defensively said, "we both know that you've made some less than spectacular decisions concerning the safety of this planet and its inhabitants in the past, but no matter what you say, I still believe that you won't do anything like that again. And there is nothing you can say or do to change my mind."

He drew a shaky breath, trying to regain his nerves. Talking bluntly to Vegeta had always seemed like a bad idea, but he meant every word and refused to back down. "Do you want Trunks to spend the night at our place?" he genuinely asked. "I mean, he is already asleep. Do you want to just leave him there for now? We really don't mind."

Vegeta stepped out of the cold water and began to get into the clean clothes, thinking carefully about that proposition. It was so tempting to say yes, to let someone else deal with the emotional child and let someone else tell him that his mother still didn't know who he was. He had already had to tell his son that once, and he never wanted to see that look on his son's face again. But such an act would be cowardly. He had run away from almost all of his emotional problems in the past, but he refused to run away from one that so clearly involved his son.

"No," he firmly replied. "I will take him back with me."

Gohan cracked a small smile. Things were hard…and weird…at the moment, but he was confident that it would all turn out alright.

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Back at the house, Trunks was awake and trying to handle the news as well as he could. Tears streamed down his cheeks, but Trunks refused to cry out loud. "So, if I walked into her room tomorrow, she would have no idea who I am?"

Chi-Chi bit down softly on her lower lip before answering. "I'm sorry, Trunks, but yes."

"Then I want to see her tomorrow."

The mother was not expecting that statement, and was more than a little stunned. "Trunks, I really don't think that's such a good idea…"

The nine year old boy quickly wiped the tears away with the back of his hand. "Don't worry, Auntie Chi-Chi. I promise I won't let her know she's my mom. I just want to talk to her again, even if she doesn't know who I am."

The raven haired woman moved from her position on the chair onto the bed. Tenderly, she wrapped her arms around the boy. "I'll tell you what Trunks," she gently spoke, giving a squeeze, "I'll call Bulma tonight and see if I can set up a chance for a bunch of us to go over and spend some time with her. Not the whole gang, but maybe just my family and yours."

Trunks' bright blue eyes lit up. "Really?" he asked. "You'd let me do that?"

Again, Chi-Chi gave him a hug. "Really," she stated. "And if we get there, and you change your mind…"

"I won't change my mind!" the nine year old insisted.

Chi-Chi chuckled lightly as she hugged him a third time. "I know you probably won't, honey, but just in case you do, which would be perfectly okay, just come over to me and give my leg a little hug. I'll take that as a signal, and we'll come straight back here."

Trunks thought carefully about the offer. "I won't change my mind," he firmly stated, looking his best friend's mother in the eye.

Chi-Chi offered a silent nod.

"And I promise that I won't let her know she's my mom," the little prince went on.

Chi-Chi nodded again, offering the boy another squeeze.

Trunks nuzzled into Chi-Chi's shoulder and hugged her back. "Can you make the phone call now, Auntie Chi-Chi?" he asked, his voice muffled by her dress.

The human glanced at the clock. It was almost ten o'clock at night, but Chi-Chi knew that Bulma was a night owl by nature, and that after spending almost twenty days stuck in bed, the heiress wasn't likely to turn in early. "I think I can do that, kiddo," she said, pulling back slightly and ruffling his hair. "I'll be right back."

The young prince nodded eagerly, and the mother couldn't help but feel amused by his actions. No matter how badly Trunks wanted to prove that he was already a man, his mannerisms still screamed 'adorable little boy'. Goten was the exact same way. They both tried to be tough, like their fathers. It really was adorable. Quietly, she descended the staircase and rounded the corner into the kitchen, grabbing the phone.

She was so caught up in thinking of the antics of the boys that she forgot just why she was making the phone call. On sheer autopilot, her fingers flew over the numbers and she cradled the receiver between her shoulder and her ear. As she reached for a dishrag to clean the counters with, she suddenly remembered why she was doing what she was doing. As she frantically tried to figure out exactly what she was going to say, she greeted by an enthusiastic heiress.

"Chi-Chi!" Bulma exclaimed. "Oh, I'm so happy you called!"

The dark haired woman blinked in surprise. "You are?" she asked. She wanted to slap herself for the stupidity of her response.

"Of course!" Bulma giggled. "I've barely been able to socialize with anyone for way too long. I need someone to talk to, to hang out with. Hell, you're the perfect person for me to let my hair down with!" There was a pause on the line before she added, "You know, so to speak…"

It took Chi-Chi a moment to remember that Bulma, for the time being, was bald. "Oh, right," she softly said. "Well, I can't come over and party tonight, but I was thinking that we might get our families…and a couple friends…over for a get together tomorrow. Not the whole gang," she quickly stated, "but, you know, a small party."

Over at Capsule Corp, Bulma couldn't help but pout a little bit. She was really looking forward to going wild with her newfound freedom, but she supposed that a small party was better than no party at all. "That sounds like a lot of fun, Chich!" she finally responded. "What do you want me to do? Oh, do you want me to invite everyone? I could do that!"

"Just make sure you're dressed. I'll handle everything else."

"Chi-Chi," the heiress whined, "I've been bored out of my life for almost three weeks now! Let me do something!"

Even though she knew the other woman couldn't see it, the younger woman gave a sympathetic smile. "Look, honey," she said, wiping down her counter tops, "we don't want your brain to get completely overloaded tomorrow. Remember, you can't remember anything."

Bulma rolled her eyes. "How long have you been working on that gem?"

"About four seconds," the brunette answered, smiling. "The point is, you're going to be slammed with a lot tomorrow and I think it's best if you're well rested for it."

Bulma flopped on her bed as suppressed the urge to groan. "Chi-Chi, I spent my youth going on crazy adventures with Goku. What could be that big a deal to me?"

Chi-Chi felt her blood cool slightly as she quickly found an answer. "When you meet Goten tomorrow, you'll understand."

The scientist laughed. "That much, huh?"

"Imagine, if you will, Goku as a child, only with half the attention span and about fifty times the power."

"You're right, I need to be well prepared for that," Bulma responded with a laugh. "So who's coming?"

Chi-Chi waved her hand, not caring that she was alone, "I told you, I'm taking care of that. And don't argue with me, because you know that I can go as long as you can!"

Again, Bulma laughed. "I dunno, it could be fun to have an argument of that caliber. A battle for the ages!"

The brunette rolled her eyes. Well, I guess that solves the mystery of his initial appeal to her, she thought. To that day, no one but Vegeta and Bulma knew how they had become a couple. Actually, at that exact moment, even Bulma didn't know how it happened. "Some other time," she promised. "Just brace yourself."

"Deal," Bulma said. "I don't suppose that you've got time to have a gab fest right now, would you?"

"I wish I did," Chi-Chi honestly answered, "but right now, there's a little boy upstairs who needs to be tucked back into bed."

The two women exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes more before hanging up. All things considered, that conversation had gone quite well. As for the next day, Chi-Chi figured that it would be enough to surprise Bulma with the idea of Vegeta as an ally. That alone was going to be a fun conversation…

Looking up, Chi-Chi pointed an accusatory finger toward the heavens. "So help me, Dende, if you don't help us out on this one, I will snap off your antennae!"

Somewhere in the distance, a Namekien twitched nervously…

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Author's Note: Okay, it's shameless plug time.

I know this is an odd request, but please, if you have a minute, check out my profile. Some of my California friends are doing a walk for the cure for multiple sclerosis, and I put a link to their website on my profile page. I wish I could walk with them, but since I'm not in the same state and don't have, you know, time and money, I decided to help out another way.

Thanks, guys!