A/N: Sorry this chapter is getting out so much later than I said it would! I know it might be weird, but I really felt the need to give this one a name. Maybe it's wrong to title only one chapter out of six, but I couldn't help it! Here is Chapter 6...enjoy.

After Chi Chi, Bulma, and the boys had disappeared in the sky, Pan and Gohan immediately got started cleaning the storage room. It was filled with piled cardboard boxes of varying contents, a few pieces of old furniture, and a plethora of school supplies. An hour later, they'd only managed to clear out a third of it since they had to look through each box and decide if the contents were something to be kept, donated, or thrown out. Chi Chi had told Gohan what she wanted done with most of the things earlier. Ironically, she still wanted to keep most of it, so they were transferring several things to the storage shed outside. Pan wondered why these things hadn't gone there in the first place, but didn't comment, although she was beginning to feel a little frustrated that they were being forced to go through every single item.

They'd hardly spoken the entire time, though it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. Pan was mostly worrying about the kind of clothing that her grandmother and Bulma would buy her…the women's shopping styles were vastly different from each other's, not to mention vastly different from her own. She preferred comfort. At least her wardrobe would be interesting, she supposed.

As Pan opened yet another of the stacked boxes, she saw that this one was full of clothes. She started to close it back up and put it in their 'donate' pile in the living room when something occurred to her. She pulled out the top article of clothing, unfolding a black tee shirt. It looked like it would fit her perfectly. Pan checked a few of the other clothes, several shirts and pairs of gi bottoms, all appearing to be the same size. She looked over at Gohan, who was just walking back in from carrying a box into the living room. These obviously had to be his old clothes. He saw her eyeing him and smiled broadly.

"Having fun?"

She grimaced. "Loads. Hey, so I just found this box of clothes—are they yours?"

Gohan walked to Pan and peered over her shoulder, pushing his hair from his forehead. "Yep, they were, when I was about twelve. Too small now."

Pan turned slightly to face him. "Do you think I could have them? If you don't wear them anymore?" she was feeling pretty excited; this could be her only shot at some halfway normal clothes, or at least clothes she would be comfortable in.

Gohan laughed. "You think they'll fit you? Sure, it doesn't matter to me. Of course, you know what my mom will say about them not being 'lady' clothes…" he finished with what Pan would almost describe as a devilish look on his face.

She narrowed her eyes at him in response, but was too happy to really be annoyed at his jab. "Thanks, this is a lifesaver—I was feeling pretty terrified about what grandma and Bulma are getting for me to wear."

"Oh, so that's what you looked so worried about," Gohan laughed again as he pulled another box down and began to sort through it. "Can't say I blame you! Here's another one. These are the same size, I think." He handed her this box, which she found to be full of his old clothes also. She really hoped they'd fit.

Pan peered up at the boy cautiously. She wondered if he'd be annoyed….

"What is it?" Gohan didn't look up, but he seemed to be smiling lightly as he sifted through his new box.

"I was just wondering…would you mind if I go try some of it on? Just so I know it fits? It would only take a second," she smiled as sweetly as she could. She was worried that he'd be annoyed at her for trying to leave him with all the work, but she really just wanted to know if she had a possible wardrobe…patience was never a word anyone would use to describe her.

Gohan looked up, appearing amused as he shook his head. "I don't care! You don't have to ask my permission."

"I'm not asking for your permission," Pan immediately clarified as she stood, "I was just being polite; I don't ask for any guy's permission." Gohan raised a brow as he looked up at her and she could tell he was trying to hide a smile.

"Okay," was all he said, although Pan was pretty sure he was thinking something else.

But she didn't waste another second, rushing straight across the hall into her—his—bedroom. As she pulled the black tee shirt over her head, she was relieved to find that it was almost a perfect fit, just like any of her plain shirts back home. She quickly folded the larger shirt she had been wearing and laid it on the bed; No reason to continue wearing it, although she knew she should probably wash the clothes that had been stored for three years before wearing them…fortunately, that type of thing didn't really bother her. Besides, her grandmother was a miracle worker of some type—the clothes didn't smell musty in the least. Pan quickly headed back to the other room to help Gohan.

He looked up as she entered, taking in her new shirt before meeting her eyes with a grin. "Wow, they do fit; you're the same size I was when I was twelve." He didn't say it with any malice, but she was almost certain he was trying to taunt her. She just smiled, deciding not to take the bait before setting about collecting the school supplies to organize them while she marveled inwardly at her adolescent father's unexpected personality.

Three hours after Pan had changed, the two teens were feeling pretty satisfied with themselves. They had managed to clean out the entire room and reorganize the shed; Chi Chi would be pleased.

After stretching to relieve her back from the hours of bending, Pan grabbed a box of her "new" clothes and made her way into the now-empty bedroom, dropping it in the corner by the window. She turned to get the second one, but came to a startled stop when she found the half-Saiyan standing in the doorway wearing a slightly puzzled expression.

"What are you doing?" Gohan asked before she could speak.

"Uh…just moving my stuff in, if that's o…okay with you?" she had meant it as a statement, but the look on his face had somehow morphed it into a question. The boy looked weirdly disapproving.

"No, that's not okay with me! Don't be ridiculous, I'll be staying in this room, not you," he reminded Pan of his mother right then. She couldn't recall ever seeing her grandmother in her dad before and the thought almost made her laugh out loud. She argued instead.

"Why in the world would you do that? You already have a room."

"Pan—this room doesn't even have a bed! You're not sleeping on the floor, you're a guest. It's no big deal to me; I've done it plenty of times. I'll stay in here, not you," his attitude was annoyingly domineering.

Pan crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him, not loving the tone he was using. What right did he have to just make decisions for her? Gohan raised a brow in response. She wasn't sure if he was daring her to challenge him, or was simply surprised that she was going to.

The girl smirked. "Well, it's a good thing we just established that I don't need your permission to do what I want," she shot back, feeling a bit smug that she was able to throw that back in his face.

Gohan didn't look amused at all, though, giving her an exasperated frown. "Pan." That long-suffering and slightly patronizing tone was really starting to annoy her, so she cut him off before he could continue.

"I don't know what the problem is—I can sleep on the floor just as easily as you!"

"But you're a g—" he bit his lip without finishing. Pan gritted her teeth, ready to jump his ass both physically and verbally if he finished that sentence. "A guest! You're a guest; you get the bed, end of story," he shrugged and grinned at her before turning to quickly walk out of the room.

"Nice save!" Pan yelled as he walked away looking something close to smug. She followed quickly.

Oh, we are so far from finished here. Here was that ridiculous gender thing again; she'd be damned if she let him get away with it.

She reached him in the living room, her arms crossed defiantly.

"I like that room—you can't have it! End of story."

He laughed as he flung himself down to sit on the couch and glanced back at her. "Okay, we'll move the bed in there, then."

Pan let out a huff of frustration and turned to stalk away.

Stupid, control freak male! The girl went into the empty room and slammed the door, fuming at his cockiness.

Wait—I can't just give in! She quickly yanked the door open again and strode back to the living room, head held high.

Gohan didn't appear to have moved at all, and though he seemed to be surprised to see her again so soon, he was watching her approach looking highly entertained. Pan fully intended to wipe that silly grin off of his face. She stopped two feet away, hands on her hips, and glowered menacingly, expecting this to sober him up as it had every other time. Pan knew how he hated it when people were unhappy with him.

Instead he threw himself back on the couch and burst into laughter. Okay, maybe she only thought she was menacing. Sighing, the girl worked to hide her smile, suddenly finding it harder to be annoyed—although astonishment was becoming the norm. Maybe she only thought she knew him.

"You're impossible!" she yelled over his laughter, but she couldn't conceal her grin. What was it about him? He looked up at her as his laughter quieted, seeming to suddenly study her more closely.

Pan rolled her eyes and shoved the boy's feet off the sofa, flopping down next to him. She stared ahead for a minute, not saying anything, although she could feel his eyes still on her as she tapped her foot vigorously on the floor, contemplating her next move.

Finally she faced him, ready to continue her argument. But his expression made Pan pause; he was giving her what she could only describe as an affectionate gaze. Recovering from the slight shock of this quickly, she decided to try a different tactic.

Giving him a sweet smile, Pan turned her body fully toward the boy and folded her legs together between them, tilting her head slightly to the side. She calmly resumed making her case in what she hoped was a more persuasive voice.

"You really aren't going to let me sleep on the floor? That's really sweet of you, but I'd feel awful kicking you out of your own bed." Gohan just smiled lightly. To keep her irritation from rising again at his lack of response, Pan took a deep breath. "Okay. What if we take turns? We each get the bed every other night." She smiled again expectantly. "Please?" she touched his arm for added effect, widening her eyes slightly and willing her normally tomboyish-self to appear at least somewhat charming.

Gohan's smile faltered slightly, brows rising as he looked down at her. He looked like he was about to be taken in—when he suddenly faced forward, looking speculative. "Hmmm…."

Abruptly he jumped to his feet and spun to face Pan, grabbing her hand to pull her up as well. "Are you hungry? I'm starved, come on." Before Pan could react to this unexpected change of topic, she was being towed straight into the kitchen.

Well, this was frustrating. Her father had always had trouble saying no to her…but the teenager-Gohan seemed to have no such difficulty. Still, she wasn't giving in that easily. This kid didn't actually have any right to tell her no. She wasn't even sure, exactly, why she felt so strongly about pushing the matter—it's not like it was truly significant. There just seemed to be something about him that made her want to argue.

In any case, Pan decided to address the issue later; she was hungry, in fact.

As the two reached the kitchen, Gohan released Pan to open the fridge. She watched as he looked around inside for a moment before straightening and closing the door again. Pan furrowed her brow in confusion as he turned back to her empty-handed.

"Ahhhh…" he smiled sheepishly and linked his hands behind his head.

Oh, brother.

Pan raised her eyebrows. "What's wrong?" she asked innocently.

"Well, I can't really cook…." The Saiyan male's stomach grumbled as he spoke, and he looked hopefully up at Pan through his lashes, obviously trying to be the charming one now. She couldn't deny—in her head—that it was cute, but there was no way she was going to fall for it.

"Surely you can make yourself a sandwich or something; I know you're perfectly capable," normally she probably would've just done it, but Pan at least had to give him a hard time after the way he'd just strong-armed her.

"Yeah but," he looked at his feet, "you're a really good cook."

Pan couldn't help but snort. "Tough, I'm not making anything for you." She walked past him to get into the refrigerator herself, pulling out the things she needed to make sandwiches. Gohan watched as she sat at the small table and completed the process. She managed to avoid his gaze for the most part, but did glance up once to see his face. It was remarkably pouty.

Ten minutes later, Pan had whipped forty sandwiches together. It occurred to her as she quickly cleaned up that there was now one extra Saiyan in this household, which was pretty rough on the wallet just in food alone. Damn. No matter what I do, I'm going to be a lot of trouble to keep around.

Having no solution, Pan pushed the thought from her mind and sat back down, finally looking up at her surprisingly silent companion. Gohan gave her a lazy smile from where he had eventually taken a seat across from her at the table, head leaning on his palm as it had at breakfast. He appeared to be having trouble keeping his eyes open again, too.

Pan narrowed hers thoughtfully.

She quickly pushed half of the several plates of food across the table to him, to which he responded with a wholehearted grin and a 'thank you'. Pan rolled her eyes; she never was going to just let him sit there and watch her eat. But she was pretty sure he had known that.

"So, G," she began casually as he started to dig in, "are you exhausted because you were up all night watching me sleep?"

Pan was pleased to see her question have the desired effect; he froze with his second sandwich halfway to his wide open mouth, the fair skin of his cheeks already turning pink. She smiled at him innocently as his dark eyes, so like hers, widened comically. He was so humiliated that he didn't even react to her calling him by something other than his name.

"Uhhhhh…"

Poor guy. Even feeling sorry for him, Pan gave him no mercy as she continued to stare expectantly.

"Well…yes. But I swear I wasn't trying to be…creepy! I really couldn't sleep with Goten, so I just went into my room to…I was trying to decide whether or not I should train you…I knew it would be weird to actually sleep in there, so I just tried to stay quiet…I'm sorry…" Gohan had stumbled through all of this quickly, and was now staring at the table in front of him, bouncing his left leg nervously. Finally Pan laughed, and then laughed again when he whipped his head up and looked at her like she was crazy.

"It is a little weird, but I'm not too freaked out. How about you just…warn me the next time you're going to stare at me all night?" she grinned and took a bite out of her sandwich.

The relief on the guy's face as he nodded sheepishly was almost as entertaining as his mortification had been, but Pan managed not to laugh as she shook her head and gave him a pitying look.

Son Gohan had just finished his sandwiches when he suddenly felt a familiar presence. His mentor was approaching. Looking at Pan, who was placing her plates in the sink, he opened his mouth to tell her this but stopped when she snapped her head around to look in the direction Piccolo was coming from. Obviously she had already sensed his presence as well. Gohan was surprised when she met his gaze, and he had to suppress a laugh; not many people's eyes filled with excitement at the thought of Piccolo, but Pan's certainly were.

Before the two even had a chance to discuss it, they heard the front door open—and straight in walked the giant green man, the one Gohan considered a second father. He had his typical serious expression on his face, and wore his typical outfit. The half Saiyan always found it somewhat surreal to see Piccolo inside of his house; the fact was he had seen Piccolo inside almost no places at all. It felt like a strange collision of the two worlds he lived in—the one where he was a warrior, and the one where he was just a kid, a student, a son and brother.

"Gohan," Piccolo saw his young protégé first as he stepped through the doorway and into the kitchen, "how is everything?"

Piccolo often came to check in on him, but preferred to wait until Chi Chi wasn't home—Gohan should have been expecting him to stop by, but he supposed having his future child around was quite a distraction. Smiling uncertainly, the adolescent glanced from Piccolo to Pan a few feet away.

The glance wasn't lost on Piccolo, perceptive as always, and he whipped his head around quickly to face the girl. Other than furrowing his brow slightly, he didn't have much of a reaction to her presence. Suddenly his eyes widened and he looked much more interested, and confused.

"Who are you?" his voice was uncharacteristically bewildered. Before Pan could respond, he looked back over at the teen boy. "Gohan, who is this? She feels…" he looked at Pan once more, his face appearing more and more uncertain. "She feels like you."

While it was interesting that Piccolo had so quickly sensed that Pan was similar to him when no one else had, Gohan sighed inwardly. He was getting fairly tired of the introductions, the shock, the worry…and apparently Pan felt the same way, because she abruptly took a step closer and began to answer Piccolo's question herself.

"I'm his daughter from the future, Pan." She jerked her head in Gohan's direction as she spoke, indicating him. Piccolo's expression was already changing to one of alarm at that dreaded phrase, 'from the future.' Pan continued quickly, "I don't know how I came to be here, some freak accident I guess, but here I am. No warnings for you or anything, no imminent danger, no enemies to vanquish." Finished, Pan smiled broadly.

Immediately regaining his cool—just as Gohan had expected him to—Piccolo folded his arms over his chest and regarded the young girl in front of him with his more natural expression of indifference. Pan bit her lip as he considered her. Gohan wondered what was going on in her head; she looked like she was about to burst from excitement. A single, though bizarre, explanation occurred to him suddenly.

Could she be as close to Piccolo as I am? He pondered this in the silence that filled the room. He could hardly fathom Piccolo having any fondness for a girl. Then again, she is my daughter. And if there was ever going to be a girl he cared about, it would definitely be my daughter. Gohan could accept this logic, once he had thought it through, but it still didn't explain why Pan was acting quite so excited to see him. After all, she hadn't acted enthusiastic about seeing any of the rest of them. Could she possibly be closer to Piccolo than she was to anyone else?

While Gohan contemplated, Piccolo seemed to be catching on to the look in Pan's eyes and was starting to seem—Gohan could hardly believe it—uncomfortable. Clearing his throat, Piccolo looked at Gohan once again. Meeting his questioning gaze, the teen offered his mentor a half-shrug and a small laugh.

"Yeah, we were all pretty shocked when she showed up!"

Piccolo raised an eyebrow and grunted. Abruptly he turned and walked back toward the door he had just entered, addressing Gohan in his gruff voice as he went even though he wasn't looking at him.

"Well, she feels like you, but she's incredibly weak."

Ah man, come on!

Stomach dropping in dread of where this would end up, Gohan rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled uncomfortably, eyeing Pan to see her reaction. Her jaw dropped as she watched Piccolo walk away. But instead of looking angry as he had expected her to, she just looked hurt.

Unfortunately, Piccolo was still talking. "—practically defenseless, which there is no excuse for; she has plenty of potential." He reached the doorway and paused, turning slightly toward Gohan. "Fix it."

With that, the Namekian left. Pan and Gohan stood gaping in silence for a moment after they heard the front door close and felt Piccolo's energy vanish.

The boy was surprised by his mentor's order—and it had no doubt been an order—to train Pan. But suddenly he felt some relief; if Piccolo wanted him to do it, then surely training her was the right choice.

Pan found her voice once more, although it was quiet and sounded almost...wistful. "Well, that was…interesting." Her expression was a strange mixture of disappointment and delight.

Gohan could only chuckle in response.

Getting ready for bed later that evening, Gohan realized that he was still smiling. Soon after Piccolo's departure, his mother, brother, Trunks, and Bulma had returned from their shopping trip. As expected, Chi Chi was happy with the job he and Pan had done cleaning out the extra bedroom, and also as expected, the two women had hauled in a vast amount of strangely assorted clothing.

The wardrobe was an odd mix of each woman's style, and Gohan had had to fight to keep the grin off his face as Pan went through some of it. But she managed to be remarkably pleasant about it to Bulma and Chi Chi, thanking them graciously. Gohan was almost certain that her response wouldn't have been so relaxed if she didn't have his old clothes hanging safely in the closet of the empty room.

Speaking of the empty room, Gohan was headed there with his pallet-making materials, ready to set up for the night. He had said goodnight to Goten—as Chi Chi had put the toddler to bed—about a half hour earlier and then hopped in the shower, after which he had spent a few minutes helping his mother clean up from dinner. Earlier, he and Pan had kept their promise to the two little boys, flying on Nimbus with them after they returned. The teens had even started racing each other through the air, a toddler on each of their backs. Trunks and Goten had loved every minute of it.

And truly, he couldn't deny that it was probably the most fun he'd had in his life. It occurred to him how sad that probably was, but he could only feel happy. Gohan was starting to realize that it felt great to have someone his own age around, something he had never thought much about. He was fairly certain Pan had enjoyed it too—or at least she had laughed a lot. Bulma had made the remark that the two teens were barely distinguishable from the two toddlers, the way they were laughing and playfully wrestling with each other and the little ones. As he had been after hugging Pan the other day, Gohan was again surprised by just how normal it felt to be physically close to her.

Reaching the door, Gohan's thoughts were broken when he opened it to find the newest member of his family sitting cross-legged on a blanket in the middle of the floor. He heaved a sigh of aggravation as Pan smiled up at him pleasantly. Her slightly messy, medium-length hair was damp, shiny and black as oil. She also had fresh clothes on, so she must have cleaned up while he was helping his mom. In fact, he noted as the door fell closed behind him, she was wearing his favorite shirt—the red one that said 'Gohan' in white block letters—so she must have been in his dresser. Since she now had a vast amount of her own clothing to wear, he wasn't sure why she had his shirt on. At the moment, he ignored this in favor of the larger issue.

"What are you doing in here?" It was almost the same question he'd asked her earlier. Honestly he had hoped that this argument was over, but apparently that wasn't the case.

"I'm going to bed," Pan answered loftily. "What are you doing in my room?" she cocked her head to the side and eyed Gohan in mock confusion.

Smiling, he chose not to even respond to her, instead walking in and throwing the makings of his bed onto the floor beside hers.

"Hey!" she cried in surprise as Gohan kneeled down and began to spread a blanket. He ignored her still, not meeting her eyes again until he had finished assembling his little place to sleep. Finally looking up to meet Pan's stare, he almost laughed at her annoyed expression but succeeded in biting it off.

"What?" he asked innocently. "I told you, I'm sleeping in here," he gave her a challenging grin and sat back on his pallet with his knees up, resting his arms on them casually.

Pan rolled her eyes before responding, just as he had known she would. "Fine, I don't care if you sleep in here…but I'm not leaving."

Gohan cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes at her. He wondered why exactly she was putting up such a fight about this. His "daughter" was apparently a very stubborn girl. He sighed again before responding in a contemplative voice.

"Well…until you fall asleep at least…"

He smirked a bit as the realization of what he was saying dawned on Pan and her eyes widened indignantly. As she scowled and leaned up on her knees, he noted that she still didn't quite reach his eye level even though he was sitting. Raising his brows in amusement, he knew Pan recognized this as well—and that it aggravated her greatly. The girl seemed to have a complex about her small stature. Clenching her teeth, she let out a little scream of obvious frustration and roughly shoved him. Gohan fell onto his back laughing.

Looking up at Pan from the floor, he watched her glare down at him. Finally she spoke in a low, threatening tone.

"You wouldn't dare move me while I'm sleeping."

Gohan widened his eyes, playing surprised. "I wouldn't?" He folded him arms behind his head, getting comfortable. "That's funny, I really think I would."

Pan suddenly stood up and headed for the door, and for a second Gohan thought he had actually won. Instead of feeling relieved she'd given up, he was a little disappointed that the game was over…and worried that she was truly upset with him. But rather than open the door, she only flipped the switch to turn out the light, plunging them both into blackness. He couldn't help but be a little bit pleased.

Gohan's eyes adjusted to the darkness immediately, although he could tell that Pan's did not. He watched her shuffle slowly back toward him, arms outstretched to avoid colliding with anything, though the room was essentially vacant. Finally she reached the blanket and dropped to her knees and began crawling; unfortunately, she had crawled onto Gohan's instead of her own and was soon clambering right on top of him. He laughed quietly as she paused with a hand and a knee on his chest, but he simply grabbed her waist and rolled over to relocate her to her own place without commenting. He settled his head on his pillow and pulled his blanket up as Pan did the same, surprised that she wasn't saying anything about the incident. But he could see her slightly embarrassed and fully irritated expression.

The teen grinned at her in the darkness, knowing from the way she narrowed her eyes in his direction that she could now see.

"Goodnight," Pan bit out sharply.

Gohan chuckled and couldn't resist using a slightly sing-song voice as he responded.

"Goodni-ight."

In the "present"

As soon as Goten walked in the door, Gohan could tell he'd been drinking. He eyed him with concern, realizing that he hadn't been paying much attention to him lately. Ever since he had begun training with Vegeta a few days ago, the rest of his life had been pushed to the sidelines, including work. He had taken an indefinite leave of absence, much to the disappointment of his co-workers and students. Getting his daughter home safely was his top priority, and he'd give it no less than one hundred percent of his time.

Still, he had decided to be home to spend time with his wife tonight. He felt awful about neglecting her. When he had voiced his apologies, Videl had cut him a severe look and told him that what she wanted more than anything was her daughter—and she could never be angry at him for focusing on trying to get her back. Even so, he knew that bringing Pan home to a broken family would be no good, and he needed to be here for his wife—this was difficult for her, despite the strong face she kept on, and she needed his comfort. He was currently waiting on her to get home from work.

Goten kept his eyes straight ahead as his only sibling stood, avoiding his gaze completely to walk into the kitchen. So Gohan just followed him.

Turning sharply to glare, Goten snapped at him in a venomous voice.

"Do you need something, Gohan?"

The taller Saiyan raised a brow as his brother stared him down with red-rimmed eyes, working to not get angry. He knew Goten was just upset.

"Goten, we need to talk. You shouldn't be drinking so much—"

Goten rolled his eyes and scowled as he turned to continue walking. "Here we go…."

Slightly shocked that his brother had just turned his back on him, Gohan couldn't keep some of the anger from his voice as he continued to follow Goten.

"What's your problem, little brother?"

Reaching the kitchen, Goten slammed his hand on the counter before facing Gohan again, now looking furious.

"What do you think? My little niece has been kidnapped for fuck's sake!" he yelled.

Gohan felt his hands shaking suddenly. Looking down, he felt a strange sense of déjà vu as he stared at them before ignoring it to glare at his brother.

"Yeah I'm aware of that Goten—that's my daughter!"

Goten laughed, sounding more angry than amused. "Really? Because it doesn't seem to me like you understand what this sicko could be doing to Pan right now! What do you think people steal teenage girls for!?" he was yelling at the top of his voice as he finished and tears filled his eyes. Turning away again, he gasped and began gagging.

For a moment, Gohan stood in shock as those awful words rang in his ears. Goten was running to the sink, barely making it before he started throwing up every content of his stomach. Feeling numb, Gohan watched. After a few seconds, Goten's stomach was empty and he continued dry heaving. Gohan only looked on as his brother gasped for air and turned the faucet on, splashing his face with water.

Suddenly Goten tensed. Turning slowly to face his older brother, Gohan was surprised by the look of undisguised fear in his dark eyes as shadows danced across his face.

"Gohan…" Goten's voice was low and cautious, as though he was trying to soothe his brother. Distantly, Gohan realized how strange that was, since Goten was the one that obviously needed consolation. He knew that he needed to go to him, but was unable to move. Suddenly the man felt a sharp crack beneath his feet.

The loud sound of shattering rock snapped Gohan from his trance. Looking down, he was shocked to see a long fracture in his stone kitchen floor. As he glanced back up at the still staring Goten in confusion, he noted the look of surprise that was mixed with a remnant of fright. Shadows no longer leaped on Goten's face. With a pang of guilt, Gohan realized what must have happened.

"Did I…"

Goten cut him off before he could ask.

"You went Super Saiyan. Two." His voice was flat and his expression guarded.

Gohan stared, knowing that he was the one that looked alarmed now.

He immediately attempted to reassure his brother, "Goten, I'm so sorry. I would never hurt you; it's not because I was angry with you, I wasn't even thinking about attacking."Goten looked uncertain, his expression still guarded as Gohan continued with clenched fists. "I just hate to consider that…possibility…that's why I got mad," he ground out the last part with some difficulty. At that, Goten furrowed his brow and nodded, looking close to tears again.

Knowing that he was forgiven, Gohan was in front of him in seconds, pulling his little brother into his arms roughly and holding him as tightly as when Goten was a little boy. And just as he had as a child, Goten leaned in gratefully.

The Saiyan hated for his brother to be in any kind of pain, and he hated it more when he couldn't fix it. Goten had looked up to him his entire life; even after their father had returned, everyone knew it was Gohan that the little boy idolized most. Goku loved his children, undoubtedly, but missing out on those first seven years was something that could never be undone; Goten viewed Gohan as his protector and role-model, just as Gohan had viewed their father, and no amount of spending time with Goku had changed that. In fact, Gohan had often wondered if his father resented him for this, but the man had never once acted hurt; not when Goten would go to his big brother instead of his dad for advice, for comfort, for affection, or anything else. Leaving to train Uub had only solidified Gohan's position as his little brother's "father". Ironic, considering it was actually his fault that Goten had been without a father to begin with…. An old, old pain that he hadn't felt in years shot through his heart, but Gohan ignored it, focusing on his brother.

"I promised I'd bring her home, and I will. Okay?" he said sternly, putting every bit of confidence that he possessed into his statement for Goten's sake.

"Yeah," Goten choked out as he nodded into Gohan's shoulder. He suddenly leaned back out of his brother's embrace and supported himself on the countertop. Hastily, he used a sleeve to dry his face as he stared at the floor, looking just a tiny bit embarrassed for breaking down like that. Gohan crossed his arms and eyed him sadly as he leaned back on the counter as well. After a moment, Goten took a deep breath and looked up at him. "Gohan, that was really shitty of me—"

Knowing where this was going, the oldest half-Saiyan interrupted him gently.

"It's okay, bro—"

"No, it's not," Goten cut his sibling off, looking angry with himself. "It wasn't okay at all." Gohan opened his mouth to reassure him once more, but Goten seemed determined to say what he had to say. "Pan is your daughter and I know how much you love her. I'm sorry for acting like I think you aren't as worried as I am; I know you are, probably more. And I'm sorry for…bringing that up…what I said…" he dropped his gaze as he trailed off.

"I'm not mad, Goten. Those thoughts had crossed my mind before…of what could be happening… I've just been avoiding thinking about it because," he paused to take a deep breath before finishing in a rush, "because then I get so angry and terrified that I can't focus." Gohan could feel his energy swirling as it rose within him just talking about this.

Goten nodded without looking up. "I know."

Silence filled the room as each man got lost in his own thoughts. Suddenly it was broken by a small snort from Goten, causing Gohan to look up in surprise. His smiling brother nodded toward the entrance. Gohan turned to look curiously, his eye immediately caught by the two-foot fissure in his kitchen floor. He groaned.

Goten laughed at Gohan's dismayed expression. "Good luck explaining that to your wife."

In the "past"

Pan was making a valiant effort, but Gohan knew she was about to be out cold. Her glare was becoming more and more of a half-conscious stare. Entertaining Trunks and Goten must have worn her out. He smiled lightly as he watched her lids drop a little more. Neither had changed position, each trying to be the one to stay awake longer. The half-Saiyan had been nearly certain he would take this battle; it usually took him hours to fall asleep anyway. Even though he hadn't slept at all the night before, tonight would be no different—especially when he had a reason to stay awake.

The girl's lids closed completely. Gohan waited for them to reopen, but this time they remained shut and Pan's breathing was deep and slow. Deciding he'd wait a few minutes to move her, Gohan let his own eyes drift shut as well, contemplating her.

Son Pan was an interesting study; she seemed to have this strong desire to be treated as an adult, and appeared to hate being dependent on anyone. Knowing he was her father, Gohan couldn't help but wonder if she was this way with "him" in the future, as her parent. Was she rebellious? Was he destined to have this girl fight him at every turn for who-knows-how-many years? He supposed there were worse fates. But every time "he" came up in discussion, she seemed to get quite upset—and sometimes Gohan was sure that she was looking at him as though she was searching for something. So perhaps they were close. How odd it was to imagine his future counterpart, someone that had changed Pan's diapers for goodness' sake. What did he grow up to be like? What kind of father was he?

Was he like his father?

As this thought occurred to him, Gohan was surprised by his mental response: he hoped not. At first he wasn't sure why he had even thought that—he loved his dad more than just about anything. It didn't take him long to figure it out. He hoped that he was more affectionate, more concerned about his kid's safety, and most importantly, more there. Knowing exactly how it felt when your parent couldn't—or wouldn't—be there for you, how much it hurt…Gohan prayed that he would never do the same to his daughter. He hoped, strongly, that he had a good relationship with Pan in the future. And even beginning to see just how stubborn she could be, he knew that she absolutely deserved a loving family.

At that moment, Gohan suddenly realized that Pan was without both of her parents, essentially an orphan here. Even if it was in no way the fault of his future self, "he" was no longer there.

Like dad.

Clenching his fists in frustration, Gohan fumed silently. He didn't even notice his arms beginning to tremble.

It's like I've already broken a promise I never even made….

At this point in time, there was no evidence that anyone was even searching for Pan; was he? If so, he didn't seem to be trying hard enough. Gohan couldn't suppress the odd feeling of resentment he suddenly had for his older self. He knew that probably wasn't fair, but he couldn't shake it entirely. In any case, it appeared that it was up to him and him alone; without anyone presently there for Pan, the teen would have to step up and be the one to take care of her. It didn't matter that he was the same age as his "daughter"; because she was his daughter, and she deserved a parent.

The Saiyan knew what he had to do. Though he had told Pan only the day before that he didn't want to be her father, Gohan was now determined to be just that.

As his resolve began to calm him, Gohan realized just how much he was shuddering, how labored his breathing was. Eyes snapping open to make sure he hadn't woken Pan, he quickly forced his body and mind to relax. The girl didn't appear to have been disturbed at all, he was relieved to see.

He took a deep breath, exhaling shakily. Another thought occurred to him as rolled onto his back and gazed up at the ceiling.

Gohan really was enjoying having…a friend, in Pan. Was it possible to be both her friend and her father? He decided that it was; he wasn't willing to give up either. Somehow, in the short space of only a few days, Pan had become as important to him as any other member of his family. He wasn't sure if this was natural or just weird.

Whatever it was, the boy was certain of it.

Gohan turned to look at Pan once more. As sweet and serene as she looked at that moment, he knew she would put up a huge fight if she knew he had come to this decision to "be her dad". He also knew that he needed to be sensitive to the fact that he was not, in fact, the father she knew. He hadn't raised her, hadn't been there for her for all of her fifteen years; he didn't imagine that he even looked a lot like the person she called daddy. So, he decided, he simply wouldn't tell her; what she didn't know couldn't hurt her. He shouldn't have to treat her any differently, so she'd never know the difference. It's not as if he intended to start bossing her around; just being there for her and keeping her safe was all he desired.

Realizing how late it was already, Gohan decided that he should go ahead and take Pan to his bed before he fell asleep himself. Scooping her up gently so that he wouldn't wake her, he carried her easily into his room. He was surprised by how light she was, even with her small frame. Laying her down carefully,this thought reminded him of Piccolo's earlier comment about how weak Pan was.

He knew it was true; though her strength was incredibly impressive by human standards, she was woefully insignificant in comparison to the Saiyans and Piccolo. Considering the fact that enemies seemed to come exclusively in 'stronger than us', the girl would stand no chance at defending herself. Suddenly all doubt about training Pan was wiped from Gohan's mind as he realized that he couldn't allow her to be so defenseless. It was true that he was the strongest person on the earth, maybe in the universe; but what if something happened and he was unable to be there?

Gohan frowned as he gazed down at the sleeping girl, moonlight streaming in the open window and illuminating her face. Turning away to head back to his place on the floor in the room across the hall, he hoped she would rest up well; tomorrow the training was going to start, and Gohan knew that as difficult as it would be for him, he would not be going easy on her.

Hitting the ground much harder than she expected to, Pan quickly rolled to all fours, attempting to catch her breath. Gohan's first blow had just knocked the wind right out of her; in fact, she was pretty positive that that had been the hardest hit she'd ever taken—certainly it was harder than her father had ever punched her.

She'd woken up in Gohan's bed that morning, irritated with herself that she was unable to even stay awake longer than him; but then he seemed to be better at just about everything. She had only just gotten dressed when he walked right in, almost making her pee her pants.

"Time to train!" he had announced with a broad smile. She had been starving a moment before, but quickly forgot about food at his words. Wondering how her grandmother would react, Pan was surprised when Gohan grabbed her arm and pulled her right out the window, just as she had done to him a couple days earlier.

In the clearing they'd landed in to train, Pan hardly noticed the perfect day surrounding her—the warm, gentle breeze, the crisp green grass swaying gently, the treetops and clear blue sky meeting to create the perfect backdrop—it was all lost in the focus she had for her opponent.

The spiky-haired teen had a look on his face that Pan had never seen before. He was dressed in a purple gi, like Piccolo's, and seemed to be much more comfortable in it than his regular clothes. Then again, everything about him looked more comfortable; as his dark eyes met hers from several yards away, Pan saw clearly that he was in his element—outside and fighting. The irony of this crossed her mind briefly; her father sparred so rarely in her time that it was easy to forget that he was ever a warrior—something about the combination of business dress and glasses, his gentle nature, and his apparent lack of interest in fighting at all. So it was strange to her to see his young self looking so much more content here. Perhaps more surprising, though, was his expression; complete focus. Since it had been so difficult just to convince the guy to train her, Pan wouldn't have expected him to take it quite so seriously.

Apparently I was wrong. She was sure of it when his next attack came—a swift punch to the jaw followed immediately by a kick to the opposite temple. His movements were so fast she would swear he must have learned Instant Transmission. Head throbbing and wondering if she had whiplash, Pan straightened as Gohan took two steps backward. She knew this was what she had asked for…but still.

"Jumping in with both feet, I see!" Pan couldn't help but be the tiniest bit annoyed.

The corners of her teacher's lips turned up slightly. "I don't believe in foreplay, remember?"

Pan rolled her eyes at herself for ever telling him that she'd had that thought at Bulma's the other day…and immediately regretted the miniscule action; Gohan had taken the opportunity to attack once more, viciously. As fists, feet, elbows, and probably every other part of anatomy rained down on her, the girl staggered back more and more. She was just barely holding her own, able to block next to none of the blows he threw. As she landed on the ground again, the other teen finally jumped back a few yards. Since she wasn't sure she'd even be able to stand upright at the moment, Pan looked up and shot him a sharp glare, chest heaving and sweat pouring down her entire body.

"Get up," Gohan's voice was as expressionless and calm as his face.

Pan bared her teeth and narrowed her eyes further, now getting angry. Was pummeling her really necessary? How did it teach her anything at all?

"I can't! I can barely sit upright—"

"Get up!"

She winced at his sharp tone, a little hurt that he would talk to her that way, and more than a little shocked. An idea occurred to her, one that quickly propelled her back to anger.

"What is this? Are you trying to convince me not to train with you? You think I'll run away scared when I figure out that I'm no match for you?" she was yelling by the last question. "Well don't get your hopes up; I already knew that!"

"This is how you become stronger—isn't that what you wanted?" Pan sat back, stunned; he was actually yelling back.

After a brief pause, she clenched her jaw and nodded sharply. Gohan eyed her, his face harsh. So this was Son Gohan, the warrior. It was rather astonishing. Appearing to be trying to exercise great patience, he continued.

"You can take way more than this—you have to push your body past its limits, Pan."

Does he really care so much if I get stronger? Pan just didn't get it. Scowling, she glanced at the ground before meeting his gaze again and mumbling a response.

"Geez, you're intense today."

His expression softened. He strode to her quickly and squatted down so that he was closer to her eye level, Pan eyeing him warily.

"I know you can handle this." Gohan smiled gently when she gave him a doubtful look.

"And how do you know that? You've known me for about four whole days," her tone was scornful.

He unexpectedly leaned in and grasped her upper arms. The sudden proximity caused her to inhale sharply as a small thrill shot through her. His eyes were so dark.

She shook her head to clear it of the weirdness.

"I know that because you're my offspring; you had to get some of my tremendous talent."

Strange moment forgotten already, she dropped her head back and laughed weakly at his playfully arrogant grin. Pan was beginning to discover that she really liked this side of him—he was fun. Gazing back at his now tender smile, she sighed heavily. He was speaking again before she could say anything.

"Do you trust me?"

Pan didn't even have to consider it; she did trust him, fully. "Of course." Seeming pleased by her answer, his smile widened. Abruptly he stood, pulling her up with him. She even managed to stay standing when he released her. As she met his black eyes, she felt her focus return and her resolve strengthen. She was his offspring; fighting, protecting the earth—this was their family's legacy. And she was going to live up to it.

"Alright," he was putting a serious face on again, "out here I'm your teacher; you do exactly what I tell you to do without question."

Pan nodded hastily, noting the small look of surprise that he quickly covered up. He must have expected her to argue with that—normally she would have.

"And if you do that, then I promise I'll make you into a powerful fighter."

Pan smirked as she fell into a defensive stance. "As powerful as you, sensei?" she couldn't resist asking teasingly.

Gohan mirrored her expression as he backed up a few paces, laughing quietly. "I never said I was a miracle-worker, sweetheart."

Her smirk twisted into a scowl.

Without warning, she launched herself at him, immediately disappointed by his complete lack of surprise. His grin widened as he leaned back, easily dodging her punch.

"Good girl," he mumbled under his breath as he straightened. Pan didn't have time to react as he locked his hand around her still outstretched arm and used her momentum to pull her closer, bringing his fist forward to meet her stomach brutally. Pan coughed as sharp agony ripped through her abdomen, radiating all the way to her fingertips. Involuntarily, she leaned into her attacker, latching onto his neck instinctively to hold her body up. Looking up to meet his gaze, she gritted her teeth at his apologetic expression.

"Ready?" his voice was soft and oddly reassuring; Pan suspected that he did not enjoy this. She grimaced in response. He let her catch her breath for a moment longer before spinning away to disengage her grasp, coming full-circle with a powerful kick.

The beating commenced.

In the "present"

"How's it coming?"

Bulma jumped slightly at the sound of Gohan's voice. Trunks only glanced up at him from where he sat before returning to his work on the computer.

"Gohan, you scared me!" the woman exclaimed from her place next to her son.

"Sorry," he mumbled, but he wasn't really paying attention. The lack of response from his fellow half-alien was troubling. "Trunks." His tone commanded a response and he knew Trunks wouldn't ignore it.

Trunks finally looked up at Gohan apologetically. "Sorry. It's…not great, Gohan."

The man took a deep breath to keep from powering up unintentionally. In the week and a half since Pan had vanished into thin air, he had been finding it more and more difficult to control his temper, and the incident with Goten the night before hadn't helped. He quickly pushed the suffocating thoughts of what his daughter might be going through out of his mind; he didn't have time to break down.

"Okay," he finally spoke, Trunks eyeing him cautiously, "what's the problem?"

"We've pretty much got the time travel part figured out," Bulma answered this time as she typed away, staring intently at the giant computer screen, "but it's just like I worried…we have no idea where in time Pan went—"

"Where she was taken." Gohan immediately felt bad for the icy tone he had cut Bulma off with. But the fact that she didn't bite his head off for daring to speak to her that way told him just how bad the situation really was. Looking up, she pursed her lips and eyed him, blue eyes full of sympathy.

"Yes, we don't have the slightest idea where she was taken…and it really could be anywhere." She looked back at her computer screen with a frustrated expression. "It could be yesterday, tomorrow, four hundred years in the future, a thousand in the past, or any time in between—and a new timeline was created immediately. If we knew where to start, we would stand a chance but—" Bulma was cut off again, this time when her oldest child touched her arm. She looked at Trunks inquisitively, but he was watching Gohan, looking even more apprehensive than he had earlier.

Clenching his jaw, Gohan tamped down on his power once again, fighting hard to control the rage that burned through his veins.

Abruptly he turned and left the lab without another word.

He took a ragged breath as he navigated quickly through the maze that was Capsule Corp, desperate to get outside. If he didn't know the place so well, he'd be lost in under a minute. Luckily, he'd been hanging around there since early childhood, so he knew the giant structure as well as his own home. The next turn would bring him to an exit…just a bit farther.

Picking up his pace as he turned the corner, Gohan finally reached the door and took off into the sky.

Instead of heading straight to the house, Gohan went somewhere he had been visiting frequently as of late: Piccolo's long-time hangout at the waterfall not too far from his home. Stopping in midair over the river to stare at the roaring, foamy cascade of water, Gohan took deep breaths of the cool night air to calm himself. After a few moments, he folded himself into Piccolo's usual meditative position and closed his eyes in an attempt to clear his mind.

The meditation worked to calm him after only a few minutes and the Saiyan opened his eyes to watch the waterfall once more, not really seeing it this time. He missed Piccolo so much it was a physical ache. Being here helped him to feel closer to his mentor. Gohan couldn't help but think that it hadn't really been fair: he had only had his second father-figure for a little over thirty years. It wasn't long enough—especially since he had always counted on the fact that Piccolo would forever be there in his father's place. He had taken it for granted. For the first time in many years, he had neither of them. And on top of that—by far worst of all—his daughter was missing.

Gohan sighed in frustration. Who could have done this? An old enemy perhaps? It usually seemed to be the past that came back to haunt them…but who would have the capability for time travel? He couldn't think of anyone. None of this mattered; he would find this being, whoever it was, and he would find Pan, no matter what or how long it took. But he still needed to get stronger…he had been training with Vegeta almost constantly, and his strength was indeed far greater than it had ever been. Already he provided a challenge for Vegeta in his Super Saiyan 4 form; attaining the level himself would bring out raw power that none of them had ever dreamed of, he knew. But that was the usual in their lives; the real trouble was controlling it. And the next step was to have his tail again. Vegeta intended to have Bulma regrow it using her Blutz Wave Generator the very next day. Then, he'd be able to reach Super Saiyan 4, and demolish the fool that was ignorant enough to mess with him.

For just a moment, he allowed his eyes to drift shut as he indulged himself in envisioning this…finding the bastard…making him pay…slowly. He felt his muscles tense in anticipation of that day. It would come, and when it did, he would relish it. The way he had tried to punish Cell as a boy would pale in comparison to the pain he would bring on the creature that dared to take his child from him, and he would savor every moment….

Suddenly Gohan inhaled sharply, eyes snapping open. What was he thinking? The way he had handled Cell had been completely wrong; attempting to punish him had only resulted in his father's death. He had learned that lesson already…he glanced down at his hands, noting the nearly imperceptible shaking…. It brought so many memories back….

Just like that, he was reliving his nightmarish adolescence. The guilt, the disgust, the longing…the longing.

Once he had remembered it, he felt it suddenly rising within in him like a black tidal wave of forgotten desire, infinitely more potent than any other desire he'd ever experienced. It didn't matter that the power his body was remembering was many times weaker than the power he now possessed; it was the memory of letting go completely and allowing his most primal urges to manifest that called to him. That urge nearly overcame him now, to abandon reason and logic and sympathy so that the massive power inside of him could be free. He fought against it, tried desperately to remember how to make it go away.

Fear.

Where was the fear?

Gohan ground his teeth and let out a strangled cry, the outside world drowned out completely. There was only his sanity and the monster, fighting each other for control. Still dangling in the air, he grasped his head in both hands as he shook it back and forth roughly, trying fiercely to control his thoughts and emotions. He felt himself powering up involuntarily, not sure if it was in response to the perceived threat, or if it was the desire taking root. Yelling out suddenly, he went Super Saiyan 2 in a split second without deciding to, hoping it was his body's way of fighting it out of him and not just the hated emotions taking command. But he had to feel fear to control it, he knew that; fear of what the longing would do, just like when he was a kid. He had to feel the fear of losing his loved ones due to his own actions, as he had his father. He attempted to picture his dad then, and imagine the pain of losing him.

It was a bad idea.

Suddenly—unexpectedly—Gohan felt anger; hot, vicious—delicious—flooding his veins, saturating his entire being at once; anger at his father for choosing, so many times, so very many times, to leave him alone. It wasn't his fault; he'd only been a child! Gohan could hear himself screaming wordlessly, the outpouring of years of hurt and inadequacy mixing with the pain of his internal battle to unleash a tormented wail. Goku chose to stay gone or leave, every time. And each absence was like a knife buried into his heart, then cruelly twisted. Unsurprisingly, the fury amplified the black desires, bringing the burning in his mind to a crest that Gohan's psyche could barely handle. Dark thoughts began to circle his mind unbidden…thoughts of pain and destruction, pleasure and chaos; devastation brought down like final judgment on every living thing…tempting…teasing…seducing him gently… It was a craving unlike any he'd ever experienced, and he knew without a doubt that giving in to it would bring him such intense joy it would be nearly agonizing. The power he had the capacity to unleash…he heard his distant yell cut off abruptly when he gasped aloud just imagining it, a thrill of pleasure joining the fire in his body as a promise of what could be. The small piece of rationality retained by his mind was revolted by the twisted convolution of pleasure and pain that his being desired to feel and deliver; but it also couldn't help but see how very easy it would be just to give in; to give up the fight and let his true self be in control—allow himself to be the harbinger of death that he was created to be. The idea of killing so many…it thrilled him. In his mind's eye, he could picture the depravity he would inflict in perfect detail. He could rain down devastation on the entire galaxy, with next to no effort. This very planet he was occupying was the excuse his father always had for abandoning his family…why let it even exist?

Sudden shock waves of energy coursed through his body harshly, causing him to throw his head back involuntarily and drawing through his clenched teeth a low, growling moan from deep in this throat.

Yes.

The monster latched onto the idea with savage carnality: what better way to punish his father, the man that had caused him so much suffering? Gohan felt that small, rational part of his brain disappearing…. It was an epiphany of epic proportions: Destroy the planet that had always been more important to him—there could be no greater or more fitting revenge. It was what his father deserved! All the ways he had hurt him over the years—not to mention their family….

Suddenly, the tiny remaining piece of Gohan's sanity gained strength at the thought of his loved ones. He saw the answer. Gohan pictured them in his mind…Goten and Trunks, and his wife, his mother, Vegeta…Pan. His daughter's face in his mind was the final catalyst, causing his senses to snap sharply back to him.

Gohan's eyes ripped open as his entire body jolted, crying out at the agony that ripped through his head as he regained control of himself. Abruptly the world was darker, and the man noted distantly that he had dropped back into his natural, dark-haired form. The sound of the waterfall's rushing filled his ears, but he could still hear the harsh gasping and sobbing that he quickly realized was coming from his own mouth. He flailed suddenly and dropped a foot in midair before catching himself, feeling shockingly weak. Reaching up to touch his cheeks, he was surprised to feel tears burning down them in a steady stream. He clutched his head weakly and groaned as the throbbing ebbed at a slow pace, feeling completely bewildered…and afraid.

What just happened? I buried all this years ago….

Gohan lost focus as his thoughts blurred. He couldn't remember ever feeling so weak; every muscle felt like it had taken a personal thrashing with a butcher's knife; just breathing required monumental effort, let alone staying suspended. The Saiyan's vision was beginning to turn black at the edges. He realized, slowly, that he was over water; if he became unconscious here he would likely drown. And for the smallest moment, he hesitated; how easy it would be to just let himself die. He had thought he was rid of the monster long ago, but it appeared that his original notions as a teenager had been correct; there was no getting rid of the thing—he was the monster. The only way to get rid of it was to get rid of him. It only took him a second, even in his half-conscious state, to remember his daughter—she needed him; and even if she hadn't been missing he had sworn to never leave her, or the rest of his family. He would just have to learn to control this thing inside him.

Feeling his consciousness fading fast, he threw all of his remaining energy into clearing the water so that he could black out over the earth instead; he got less than a foot. Gohan realized belatedly that his two seconds of hesitation had cost him—and then he was falling toward the rushing river below. Kindly, his mind pulled him into soft darkness before he had the chance to feel fear.

A/N: That was really fun to write! The chapter title is in reference to a Korn song called 'Did My Time'... :) It reminds me of Gohan a lot. Check it out! Anyone who doesn't know Korn, just beware that their stuff is a little dark. I also think of Gohan when I hear 'Here to Stay' also by Korn. If he had a song to his dad in this fic, that would be it! This story would have been so easy to make into a songfic.

Thank you to all reviewers! Every single one just makes my day.

So it probably seems like I hate the guy, but I'm really missing Goku in my fic...