AN: Hi everyone, I just wanted to say thank you for all the support you've all given me so far. This chapter was actually one of the very first chapters I wrote of this story, and is one of the most poignant moments of this story. I have worked very hard on this and really hope it shows. Hope you all enjoy it! Thank you for all the love so far! xxx
Chapter Fifteen
Borbonne's Revenge
xxxx
It was a cold, rainy night in March when Gohan suddenly snapped awake. The young saiyan looked about his room, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. He glanced at the clock on his beside table, the time flashing two-thirty in the morning. He felt strange, he couldn't remember having a bad dream, he wasn't sweating, thirsty or needed the toilet. No, he had simply just awoke, which was unusual for the teenager.
It was half-way through the working week, and he was exhausted. He had gone to work all day, trundled his way through the mountain of practice exams his mother had set out for him that night and had fallen asleep as soon as his head had hit the pillow.
His mother had been ecstatic of course, when he had informed her about his internship offer, and though Gohan was just as pleased, he wasn't enjoying to the amount of studying his mother was forcing him to do.
Still, his social life was going great when he wasn't studying. He had snuck in steaming drunk several nights now when he had been out with Iris and the other interns. His relationship with Iris was going great, he found that they really connected in an intellectual way, having many in depth conversations before their physical relationship got in the way of that.
The Gold Fighter was more popular than ever, and Gohan soon became accustomed to his face staring out at him from magazines in the Capsule Corp. break rooms and visitor waiting areas. Mostly, it was all just stirring nonsense the supposed love affair brewing between him and Videl, and although they seemed to be getting on better, he wouldn't go as far to say that he liked her in that way.
Just this past week, petty crime in the East had taken a sudden leap, and Gohan found himself making more and more appearances as his alter ego, something that his fans were thrilled about. Though it meant that he was spending more time away from Iris, but she was too busy working on her spring project to see him every night.
Still, it wasn't the lack of female contact that had struck him awake either.
He sat up, getting out of bed and deciding to give his legs a stretch. He suddenly stopped short, and was surprised to find that his tail hair was stood on end, along with a tingly feeling present in the nape of his neck.
tap. tap.
Gohan jumped at the sound at his window, yet his near heart attack was short lived, when he saw Icarus hovering outside. It was raining heavily, the rain drops bouncing off his purple scales relentlessly.
Without any hesitation, the young saiyan drew back the window, his arms getting slightly wet from the splatter.
"Hi stranger, what are you doing here in this weather?" he asked, as the dragon purred up at him.
Icarus inclined his head over towards the mountains, letting out a high pitched whine.
The teenager sighed, "No Icarus, I'm not going hunting with you, it's freezing!"
This seemed to frustrate the large creature, as he flapped his wings harshly, drenching Gohan with rain water.
"Ugh Icarus, what the hell?!" he spluttered, droplets spilling onto the carpet.
The dragon purred loudly, his large snout reaching inside the window and nudging his face.
"I said no boy!" Gohan said harshly, "Go and find some shelter for Kami's sake, you can't come in here!"
Icarus growled, his big green eyes boring into Gohan's, before he spun around and flew off into the sky towards the mountain range.
"Mental dragon," the young saiyan muttered, closing the window with a snap. Shivering, he grabbed a towel and changed into some clean pyjama trousers. He slipped back into bed with a sigh, but for the life of him, couldn't get back to sleep.
The next day, the teenager couldn't concentrate at work, but he wasn't entirely convinced that it was due to the lack of sleep. The odd feeling he had stayed with him for the rest of the week, but it wasn't until the following Sunday that he jolted awake in the same manner again.
Just like the previous week, Icarus was at his window, squawking loudly as soon as he opened it. The dragon was frantic, his large eyes wild and his wings beating hard against the air.
"Shhh Icarus! What's wrong?" The halfling ushered, reaching forwards to pat his snout. Yet the dragon pulled away from him, letting out another desperate growl and flying away from the window.
"Icarus?" Gohan asked, getting slightly worried, Icarus was acting very agitated. It wasn't like him.
The creature squawked again, flying back to him and gently pulling him by the arm with his teeth.
"Alright, alright! I'm coming!" the teen said finally, grabbing his arm back and searching around for his jeans, "just let me put some clothes on!"
A few seconds was all the halfling had before Icarus began growling at him again, and in no time they both shot into the sky, soaring over the mountain tops that were still covered in snow. It was still rather chilly for spring, but it was still late at night. Gohan hugged his arms to him as he followed Icarus in an attempt to keep himself warm. He looked up as they flew over a familiar valley, and was surprised when he saw that they were headed to Chazke Village.
But Gohan didn't have to ponder why the dragon had brought him here, as before they were over the other side of Mount Paozu, did he spot a billowing torrent of smoke coming from the edge of the forest. His heart sunk, as they drew closer, Lao's Green Grocer's engulfed in flames.
He landed before Icarus did, hitting the ground running as villager's surrounded the small home that was barely visible beneath the red and amber light, a fire crew and a small ambulance having already arrived. Gohan pelted towards them, praying that Lime and her grandfather had gotten out alright.
"Hold on lad, we've asked villagers to stand back," a paramedic said gruffly, before he could reach the ambulance.
Gohan opened his mouth to protest, when a voice drifted from the vehicle, "It's alright, let him through, he's family."
The young saiyan's eyes lit up as he pushed past the paramedic, hopping into the ambulance to find Mister Lao sat on the bed, another medic tending to several burns on his neck and face, his arms cradling a bundle of blankets.
The teenager blinked, catching sight of a small baby wrapped within the fabric, a shock of ebony hair poking out from his head.
The young saiyan looked about him, there was only one ambulance, and he didn't see any sign of his best friend anywhere.
"Mister Lao, w-what-?" Gohan started, but the old man cut across him.
"It was Borbonne," he said sadly, tears filling his blue eyes, he looked utterly defeated, "H-he wanted revenge for what Edward… f-for what happened. I tried to-"
Gohan stared, he had never seen the man look so desperate.
"Oh Lime…" he whimpered.
"Sir, where is Lime?" he asked sternly, his heart pounding faster.
Mister Lao looked up from the bundle of blankets in his arms, broken. "I'm sorry Gohan."
Gohan's blood ran cold.
Without warning, the young saiyan launched himself out of the ambulance and careened towards the smouldering building, black smoke billowing out of his wake. He barely registered the frenzied cries of the crowd as he kicked the shop door clean apart, the timber disintegrating as he sprinted into the burning building.
It was already suffocating, thick, black smoke was everywhere, filling his nostrils and causing tears to stream down his cheeks.
"Lime!" He coughed, his voice straining, "LIME!"
He swore under his breath, he couldn't hear anything over the roar of the fire. Shop goods had imploded and lay melted and incinerated on the floor, he couldn't even see the counter.
"LIME! LIME IT'S GOHAN!" He tried again, "LIME! WHERE ARE YOU?!"
He was starting to see spots, the heat was impregnable. He didn't want to blast anything apart incase Lime was lying passed out somewhere. He couldn't sense her Ki, and he hoped that was the reason why.
"LIME!" He roared, but it was futile.
Suddenly, his ears perked up, but what he thought might have been the sound of his friend soon became a loud hissing.
"FUCK!" Gohan cried, before an explosion threw him from the building. The gas pipe had blown, and had sent the majority of the roof caving inwards. The young saiyan landed hard on his back, paramedics surrounding him as soon as he hit the ground.
To their utter astonishment, the teenager sat up, clambering hurriedly to his feet as he watched the shop sign creak and splinter under the heat, causing the firemen to retreat backwards as it fell to the ground in a shattered heap. Several onlookers screamed. The smouldering embers caused something to stir in Gohan, and the young saiyan had never been so furious in his life.
"Kid, you must lie down, you're hurt," a paramedic offered, but Gohan ignored her.
"Mister Lao," he stated, hot tears burning in his eyes as he approached the distraught man, "get on Icarus and tell him to take you to the hospital. It'll be faster."
The old man nodded, "Gohan, I-"
But the teen turned on his heel, sprinting into the forest before anyone could stop him. After he had ran far enough, the teenager allowed himself to fall to his knees, letting out an almighty scream. The ground around him shook, as he gulped at the air in shuddering breaths, attempting to breathe. His chest was so tight, his heart felt as though it was about to burst out of his chest.
Lime was dead.
His best friend was dead and he was too late. Once again, Gohan had failed someone. Why? Why did he have all this power and potential that Piccolo and Vegeta always harped on about and yet when it came to it, it was no use. The Gold Fighter barely used any of his true power, Hercule was right, it was all fancy flying and light tricks.
His hair spiked as a golden aura engulfed his frame, his hair changing from black to gold, black to gold. His eyes turned the darkest of green, as his hair finally settled on gold. His tail flickered around behind him as his power broke forth, bolts of silver electricity licked and pulsed at his body. With a final scream that echoed over the forest, Gohan completed his ascended super saiyan transformation, his golden aura lighting up the trees around him.
But he refused to let his tears fall, his green eyes hardening as he steadily controlled his breathing.
Knowing what he had to do, he pressed the button on his wrist watch, and his clothes were quickly replaced with his black and navy bodice and cape. He wasted no time in shooting up towards the night sky, blasting in the direction of East City, creating a sonic boom over the clouds.
"Videl," he spoke through his mouthpiece as soon as she answered, "Wake up, tell me everything you've got on Borbonne."
"Waa?" came her groggy tone, "What time is it?"
"Damn it Videl, tell me where Borbonne is!" He growled in frustration.
"What the in the bloody hells?! It's one in the morning!"
"I'm not pissing about!" he yelled in annoyance, soaring over the clouds,
"Good grief you couldn't just wait until tomorrow could you?" she snapped back, "All I've found is that two of his accomplices spend a lot of time at this strip club in East City, it's called The Boobie Trap, on the upper west side."
The teenager rolled his eyes, "and their names?"
"Er, Burdwell and Kasdan or something like that. Why? You're not going after them are you?"
He said nothing, powering his aura further around him and hurtling towards the stripper bar.
"Gold Fighter?! Oi! DON'T YOU IGNORE ME, IF YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING TO CATCH BORBONNE WITHOUT ME THEN YOU ARE SERIOUSLY-"
Gohan cut off the transmission as he descended, his black boots tapping on the pavement directly in front of the strip club. Only a couple of men stood out front, swaying drunkenly on the spot as they smoked. The bar was situated down one of the back streets of East City, where he and Lime had attended a couple of gigs in the past. The neon sign flashed blue and pink above the dingy double doors, the 'oo's of boobies shaped distastefully like nipples.
Two burly bouncers stood either side of the doors, both suited with sunglasses over their eyes even though it was night time.
The teenager glared at them from beneath his visor, he wasn't sure whether they were in cahoots with Borbonne or not, but it wouldn't hurt to interrogate them.
"Well blow me sideways Mick! It's The Gold Fighter!" one of them exclaimed after seeing him land.
Mick laughed, "Bloody hell Paddy me lad, of all the sights we've seen-!"
"Tell me, is someone named Burdwell and Kasdan here?" the golden haired teen asked forcibly.
The bouncers exchanged a glance.
"Yeh, they arrived a few minutes ago didn't they Mick?" Paddy confirmed.
"Looked like they'd been rollin' around in a pile o' shite judgin' by the state of 'em!" chortled Mick.
With that, the young super saiyan pushed past them into the dark hallway, but not without hearing them shout after him.
"Oi! Next time you might wanna ask for someone named Paris and Crystal! They'd show yeh a better time!" Mick called.
Paddy laughed after him, "Yeh but they might be a too much for yeh to handle if yeh know what I mean young lad!"
Leaving the men to continue their hysterics, the young super saiyan pushed open the double doors at the end of the corridor so hard that they bounced off the walls.
He was surprised to find that the place was fit to bursting. Men of various demographics sat in plush red velvet chairs, some were sat behind glass screens where Gohan could see them getting a lap dance all too clearly.
The music blasted obnoxiously from the speakers, as young women wearing next to nothing danced seductively to the beat on stage. There were strippers twisting around long silver poles in every corner of the room, whilst topless waitresses carried drinks on trays to several rounded tables.
A long bar made of glass and silver stood to the side of him, where a few patrons sat nursing their drinks and stealing glances at the big breasted barmaid. Several people turned to look at him, as he had successfully knocked one of the doors off its hinges, though most of the crowd were too interested in what was happening on stage.
"Hi there, aren't you The Gold Fighter? I wondered who had caused all that commotion!" a blue eyed waitress suddenly appeared in front of him, "I'm such a big fan. Me and the girls," she added, pointing to the strippers who were dancing.
"Oh here!" she said with a wide grin, pushing a clear shot of something into his palm, "It's on the house!"
He didn't have time for this shit.
He took the shot from the girl and crushed it in his palm, liquid poured to the floor as the glass disintegrated. The waitress' eyes widened in shock, as Gohan's aura lit up around him, sparks surging all over his body.
"I'm looking for two men named Burdwell and Kasdan."
She gulped, her tray wobbling as he pointed a shaky finger towards the bar.
Immediately the scent of ash caught his nostrils as he turned, leaving the waitress to scamper off in fright. He immediately recognised the gangsters, who were sat drinking at the end of the bar. They were the ones who had wrecked Mr Lao's shop the day that Borbonne opened the Cell shelter almost five years ago. Both of them looked particularly pleased with themselves, laughing and joking with each other, having not bothered to change out of their ash ridden clothes.
He let out a low growl, a bolt of electricity shooting down his arm and causing a loud snap to sound over the music. It seemed it had got a few people's attention, including Burdwell and Kasdan's.
The snide look on their faces quickly turned into that of utter terror at the sight of him.
"Shit."
But not one of them could muster another word, as Gohan drew back his fist and knocked the biggest man through the bar. Glass shattered and the silver metal twisted inwards as he collapsed in the centre of it. Several of the girls screamed, including the horrified barmaid as she fled the length of the bar and out of sight.
"Consider that a warning shot," Gohan spat, as the man quivered beneath him, a large cut sending blood spurting from his head. The teenager quickly turned on the other, who was shaking with fear.
"Now I'm going to give you one chance you worthless piece of shit," he said, his words dripping with venom, "Tell me where Borbonne is."
The man squeaked, his chubby arms wrapped around his middle in an attempt to protect himself.
"Look," said the young saiyan, "You know who I am and what I'm capable of. I know who you are, and what you did. Be thankful that I don't kill you where you stand."
"B-but I-I-" he tried, giving up quickly as the teen did not budge, "Alright, I'll tell yeh. He's upstairs, in his office, sortin' out the lease to this place."
Gohan smiled sadistically, before backhanding the gangster across the bar and into the adjacent wall. The plaster cracked as the man hit it and he slid down to the floor in a pathetic unconscious heap.
"Thank you for your co-operation," The Gold Fighter said simply, before wasting no time in powering up and blasting through the ceiling to where he could feel a small Ki hovering above.
He ignored the screams as the floorboards rained down on the occupants of the bar, instead, he focussed on the wanted criminal that had fallen to his knees before him. The noise had startled Borbonne, and it was clear that the man was just a big of a coward as he was when Gohan had first met him.
"N-No it can't be you!" Borbonne cried, as the super saiyan's aura created flame-like shadows throughout the room.
It was an odd sort of room, with carpeted walls and a black painted wooden desk. Upon the desk lay piles of Zeni and pieces of important looking documents. A broken teacup lay on the floor, where Borbonne must have dropped it when he heard the commotion downstairs. The man himself had barely aged, his receding hairline was still present along with his dark pencil moustache. He was dressed in a pristine dark blue suit with a blood red tie, a gold signet ring adorning his pinky finger.
"You're actually surprised?" he growled, balling his hands up into fists, "You think that you can just get away with sending a family to their death less than a few hours ago?"
"What do you care?" Borbonne spat, "You're just some kid! My business with the Lao's ain't got nothin' to do with you!"
Gohan couldn't help but chuckle darkly, grabbing the man by the collar and lifting him into the air above him.
"Actually, your entire business has something to do with me-" the teenager paused to deliver a sharp punch to Borbonne's gut, blood dripping from his mouth almost immediately. "I am the kind of person that stops - BAM - murderers - BAM - and thieves - BAM - like you!"
With every hit that connected, Borbonne cried out in pain, scarlet blood staining his suit. Gohan smirked, tossing the brute high so that he landed on top of the desk. It splintered, shattering under his weight and sending hundreds of notes of Zeni flying into the air.
The young saiyan took a step forward, still shaking with rage, "And as for the Lao's, you were stupid enough to make that one personal."
Borbonne frowned, staring at the teenager as he pressed the button on the side of his earpiece and allowed his visor to fall back, revealing his sharp green eyes. "Eh? W-wait! You're that little brat!"
"Seems you're not as thick as you look," the teen spat, shutting his visor and taking another step towards him and causing the man to whimper. "I let you go once, and you haven't changed have you? You're just like the rest. Broken fucking promises. Well guess what Borbonne, you're not going to get a second chance, you murdered my best friend, and for what?! What do you gain?!"
Borbonne was shaking, "L-look kid-"
"No! Fuck you!" Gohan snarled, digging his fingers into Borbonne's shoulder and throwing him across the room. He hit the opposite wall with a loud thud, a long crack running towards the ceiling.
Borbonne gasped, winded, but the teenager didn't let up, he pushed him harder up against the wall, lowering his voice to a threatening whisper, "You'll tell me why you did it, and whilst your at it, you can tell me why you killed Stanley Coyne along with what else you're hiding."
"I didn't murder that fatso Coyne!" Borbonne shrieked.
"Bullshit!" The young saiyan roared, his knee connecting with the man's ribs. He felt them snap on impact, causing Borbonne to sink to the floor, "You left that note didn't you? You used Ki to kill him. Who did you get to do it Borbonne? Was it Tao? Just who else are you planning to murder?"
"N-No!" He gasped, tears intermingling with the blood on his cheeks,"I d-don't know w-what the bleedin' hell you're t-talking about!"
"Wrong answer!" Gohan yelled, stomping on the brute's face. Borbonne screamed as his nose shattered, his breathing now coming out in ragged breaths.
"I-it's true!" Borbonne cried nasally, "I j-just wanted to be the richest man in the w-world is all! I-I w-wanted to get my hands on Coyne's w-weapons, I-I did! I w-wanted to s-sell 'em on! But someone killed the b-bugger b-before I had the chance! P-please, d-don't kill me!"
"I think it's a bit too late for you to start making demands now," The young saiyan spat, picking the man up once more by the throat, his gloved hand squeezing slowly, getting tighter with every second. Siren's echoed in the distance, but all Gohan was focused on was making this sorry excuse for a man pay. He needed to pay for all crimes he'd committed, he needed to pay for what he did to Lime.
Borbonne started to turn blue, as Gohan's grip was unrelenting, the man struggled at first, his hands scratching at the teenager's wrists. But soon, they became limp, his lips dry and pale as his breathing slowed, coming out as nothing more than shuddered croaks.
Borbonne's wide eyes we're beginning to pop and Gohan could feel his life energy beginning to waver, savouring every moment.
"GOLD FIGHTER! STOP!"
The teen jumped, letting the man drop heavily to the floor, coughing and spluttering as he attempted to fill his lungs with much needed oxygen. Gohan's eyes clapped on Videl, who was standing in the doorway, shocked, with around a dozen armed police officers behind her.
Blue lights flashed through the window from outside, illuminating Videl's terror stricken face. She looked from The Gold Fighter to Borbonne, her mouth agape as the colour began slowly returning to Borbonne's face.
The young saiyan quickly looked down at the choking gangster, horrified as Borbonne's blood slid down his gloves and ran the length of his arms. He didn't wait for the police to arrest Borbonne, instead, the he blasted from the window as quick as he could, Videl's voice calling after him as he went.
He made it as far as the countryside when he dropped out of his transformation, he stopped in his flight, drifting lightly into a grassy field in the middle of nowhere. There, the teenager sank to his knees, finally letting his tears fall down his fevered cheeks.
Gohan choked back a sob, he couldn't believe he had lost control like that. He had transformed, recklessly into a super saiyan two, and he had almost - he had almost -
Cracks appeared in the grassy ground as he pounded his fists in frustration. A cool breeze drifted from the mountains, lifting up his cloak so that it billowed around him in elegant waves. The stars sparkled high above, mocking him, the night clear and bright.
He would never see Lime again.
More tears fell and landed on his blood stained costume. He was so weak. Now that was two people he had lost due to his stupidity. The young saiyan rested his head in is arms. Some superhero he was, he was disgusted in himself, he couldn't bare it.
"There you are boy," came a sudden voice from above him.
Gohan looked up, his reddened eyes widening in surprise as he was met with a super saiyan Vegeta.
He hadn't even sensed his approach.
"Don't give me that stupid look," Vegeta said gruffly, "You should have known that we would have sensed your transformation."
The teenager said nothing, causing the older male to sigh.
"Come, let's get you cleaned up."
Gohan allowed the saiyan prince to lead him away. He flew slowly beside him, and was thankful when he didn't ask any questions. He didn't realise where they were headed until he noticed the ancient stone of Korin's tower.
As soon as they landed on top of The Lookout, Dende hurtled out of the temple towards him, Piccolo not far behind.
"Gohan!" The smaller Namekian cried, noticing the blood on him, "Oh my goodness! Are you hurt?!"
"It's not mine," he answered quietly,
"Oh," was all his friend could muster.
"What happened kid?" Piccolo asked, placing a hand on his shoulder, "We all felt your power spike, Vegeta was convinced you had been training in secret until Dende realised something wasn't right."
"I-I don't want to talk about it," he said numbly, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes.
"The others are at Bulma's," Piccolo continued gently, "I told them to stay there after they pulled your friend from the wreckage. Vegeta and I wanted to make sure you were alright."
"Lime?" the teen gaped, his mind automatically ignoring all the other information.
"The girl is alive if that's what you're asking," said Vegeta, "We supposed she was the reason you transformed in such a rage."
"S-she's alive?!" Gohan gasped, hope swelling in his chest, "W-where -?"
"She's here," Dende said quietly, "But there's something you must know- wait, Gohan!"
But he didn't listen, instead, he ran into the temple, locking onto Lime's Ki that was considerably weakened - but alive. He burst through the door to see Mister Popo tending to the girl, placing a cool flannel over her forehead.
"Oh my, Gohan," Mister Popo gasped at his sudden appearance.
The teenager hurtled towards the four poster bed she was nestled in, almost tripping on his tail as he skidded beside her.
Her eyes were closed, but she breathed steadily. Her long red hair, caked in soot was fanned out over the pillows, her chest rising and falling gently as she slept. She was free of any burns, though she had smudges of ash over her face and neck, the rest of her body was covered by a crisp white sheet. He dropped to the bed, disregarding his bloodied clothes as he scooped her up in his arms, cradling her to his chest and allowing tears of relief to fall.
"Lime?" he croaked, when the girl did not stir, "Lime, wake up, it's Gohan."
"Gohan," Dende's voice penetrated his thoughts. He looked over, not even realising that they had even entered the room. "Gohan there's something you must know, I healed Lime as much as I could, but I'm afraid there's a problem."
Gohan stared, still holding the girl close. Her body was limp, her eyes still tightly shut even though Dende had healed her, "W-what sort of problem?"
The Guardian looked torn, his eyes filled with sadness, "I'm afraid she suffered a brain injury during the fire, the nerves have been damaged in some parts. She will wake up in a couple of days, but when she does, I-I don't think it will be possible for her to regain her memory, the probability of her talking again is very slim."
"W-well can't you do something?!" the teenager choked, his heart lurching uncomfortably as panic set in, "Can't we use the dragonballs?"
Dende slowly shook his head.
"Why not?!" the young saiyan bellowed, anger swelling in his chest, "Have you even tried?!
The young Namekian stood stoic, tears welling in his eyes.
Quickly but gently, Gohan lowered Lime back onto the bed, "Fine then, I'll go get the dragon radar from Bulma's and then - "
"I'm afraid that the dragon is only as powerful as its creator," Dende interrupted, stopping the teenager in his tracks, "If I can't heal Lime, then Shenron can't. I am so sorry Gohan."
The young saiyan squeezed his eyes tightly shut, taking in a deep shuddering breath. How had she managed to become so hurt? Was he just steps away from her when the explosion happened to cause her injury? The thought caused his stomach to churn.
"There's something else," Dende spoke hesitantly.
"What?" he snapped, sitting down on the bed and burying his head in his hands.
The young Namekian drew in a sharp intake of breath, "You see, when I was healing Lime, I found that most of her injuries were caused by the fire, however, I noticed that some of them were consistent with that of someone that had recently given birth."
Gohan looked up suddenly, "W-what?"
Dende bowed his head, "Yes, a little more than a week ago it seems."
Silence encompassed the room, the young saiyan's eyes widening to the size of saucers. It seemed that Piccolo and Vegeta had not been informed of this either, as they both looked at Dende with aghast expressions, completely bowled over by the revelation.
Gohan's head was swimming, he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Lime, she couldn't have been, could she? If she was, was the child even his? Just how long had it been since the last time he had seen her? Eight, maybe nine months? It would make sense, and yet, he couldn't even comprehend the fact that she could have been pregnant.
Finally, Piccolo was the first to speak, his penetrative stare burning into him, "Please, tell me it's not possible, it couldn't be…"
The expression on the teenager's face said all the Namekian needed to know.
"Oh kid."
"Well, where's the runt now? Baldy said there was no one else at the house," said Vegeta, having long powered out of super saiyan now he knew Gohan wasn't going to go off the rails.
"T-there was a baby," The halfling said finally, his throat incredibly dry, "I-I told Icarus to take them to the hospital in the village."
"Gohan," Dende spoke tentatively, as if reading his mind, "There was no way you could have known."
The teenager said nothing, his mind was whirring, he couldn't even bring himself to look at the sleeping girl beside him.
"Come now boys," Mister Popo said kindly, "Let's let this young lady rest for the night. Gohan, I'll run a bath for you - I'm sure Piccolo wouldn't mind materialising some new clothes for you. You can stay here for the night if you like."
xxxx
It was ridiculous to think that he would be able to sleep, not when there was a possible part of him lying in a hospital somewhere on the Earth below. Piccolo and Vegeta had left him alone for the rest of the night, although he could still feel their Ki's inside the temple.
The events of the past few hours swam around in his mind, he didn't want to think of what the future would hold. If Lime didn't make any ounce of recovery, what would she be like? Would Mister Lao be alright? The old man didn't even know she was alive. How would his mother react to him fathering a child at such a young age? Would she kick him out? Was the baby even his?! What would he do about his internship? Could he even raise a child?
Gohan groaned, the bed creaking as he stood, he gathered the clothes Piccolo had given him and pulled them on roughly. The teenager shoved on his boots before walking out of the temple and staring out at the sky. Dawn was just coming over the horizon, illuminating the tiles in a soft golden glow.
He sighed heavily, taking out a cigarette and lighting it with a spark of Ki. His onyx eyes watched the wisps of smoke trail over the air before disappearing altogether. His hands were still shaking, so much so that he nearly dropped the cigarette out of his fingers.
Finally, he gave up, throwing the end off the edge of The Lookout. He could feel Lime's Ki steadily pulsating from her chamber, although it was still awfully low. He wished there was something he could do. There was no telling how damaged her mind would be.
He had heard Piccolo and Vegeta talking in the hallway outside his room as he pretended to be asleep earlier. Apparently, when Gohan's power had alerted the Z-Fighter's, they sped towards the village, finding the smoking wreckage of the Lao's home. Vegeta and gone after the young saiyan, whilst Piccolo took Lime up to The Lookout so that Dende could heal her, recognising her as Gohan's friend. They still were unsure about what had happened in the city, but agreed they would interrogate the teenager in the morning.
But Gohan didn't feel like talking to anyone.
His mind was whirring, all he could think about was how frail Lime looked in that bed, and how heartbroken her grandfather looked. Would Mister Lao have preferred his granddaughter to be dead, rather than not being able to recognise him? Gohan wasn't sure what was worse. And then there was the baby, the baby that might be his…
The young saiyan gritted his teeth as he debated his decision, and then with a shuddering breath, stretched out his senses in the direction of Chazke Village. What he found caused his eyes to widen in shock.
That Ki.
It was warm and familiar, and he couldn't understand just how he hadn't sensed it before. It stood out massively against the backdrop of the Earth, but not in the terms of being extremely powerful. No, it was because it was so connected to him.
Without a word to anyone, Gohan blasted from The Lookout and headed for Chazke Village Hospital.
xxxx
Nurse Melda gazed curiously at the little monitor on the intercom, wondering just who on earth would be contacting the ward at this hour on the night shift. It was around five am, and Melda was just finishing a set of notes of a baby that had been discharged earlier that day.
As the senior nurse on shift, Melda had instructed some of the staff to take their break whilst the others carried out observations in their respective bays. There were only a few families scheduled to be on the ward, some women had come to feed their poorly babies from the postnatal ward, and she had allowed one family to visit their particularly sick child overnight.
Sighing, Melda took off her silver rimmed glasses, placing them on the side of the desk next to her pen. Reaching over to the receiver, she placed it by her ear to take the call.
"Hello? May I help you?" she spoke with an air of professionalism, twirling a bony finger around the wire.
There was silence at the other end, causing the her to frown.
"Hello?" she repeated more forcibly that time. She hoped her age wasn't getting to her just yet.
A crackle of breath, then, "Er, Hi. My name is Son Gohan, there was a baby brought in a few hours ago?"
The voice was youthful, adolescent in nature as it cracked slightly through the speaker. Melda frowned, skimming through pages of arrivals that had come in recently. Tapping her finger upon the book, she read a series of scribbled notes attached to the name before nodding to herself in confirmation.
"Just a moment," Melda called, placing down the receiver and making her way down the long corridor to let him in.
Her shoes tapped lightly on the well-polished floors, her shadow reflecting upon the cream walls in the soft dim glow of the ward. In her thirty-five years as a nurse, Melda had grown to love working on the neonatal unit. It was almost peaceful, a complete contrast to the usual hustle and bustle of the rest of the hospital.
Her senior role allowed her to maintain that peace, although she could come off stern, she always knew what was best for the unit, and she was well-respected for it. Her experience was invaluable to other members of staff seeking help or support, and there wasn't a lot she hadn't seen in her time.
Yet that had all changed when she had come onto her shift mere hours ago. A small baby, no more than a week old had been rushed into neonatal intensive care, having been the victim of a tragic arson attack in which his young, teenage mother had perished. Their guardian, the girls grandfather, had miraculously survived and was currently being treated on the burns unit in the east wing.
As the most senior nurse on shift, Melda had been called to assist the paediatricians as they attempted to resuscitate the baby that had rapidly deteriorated during transit.
When she had reached intensive care, the baby boy was completely unconscious, floppy and unresponsive on the rhesus machine. Doctors and nurses surrounded the boy, working quickly as Melda flipped through his birth records on the table.
A number of things could have affected the boy; carbon monoxide poisoning, head trauma, internal bleeding, broken limbs, or perhaps a birth defect that they didn't know about.
As it turned out, the baby boy did have a birth defect, Melda recognised it almost immediately as her sharp blue eyes flickered over to the rhesus. She gaped slightly, as she gazed upon the furry brown appendage sticking out beneath his nappy. On quick inspection of his notes, his mother had informed the midwives that it was a genetic trait from his father's side, and she wished it not to be tampered with.
The rhythmic beat of the heart monitor had pulled Melda out of her shock. The room breathed a sigh of relief, when the baby started to breathe on his own. Remarkably, the boy made a speedy recovery and was able to be transferred to the unit within the hour.
Doctors were stunned, they had barely expected the newborn to survive that long, yet Melda was able to take the baby under her care, albeit with prescribed oxygen therapy and feeding tubes.
Her shock wouldn't wear off anytime soon, as on her way to the ward, she had overheard a number of nurses claiming the boy and his great-grandfather had been dropped off by a large purple dragon at the front doors of the hospital.
Melda had seen for herself babies that had made speedy recoveries after life threatening situations, but never had she thought it possible for her nurses to be that perplexed that they started believing such far-fetched stories. A dragon? Honestly.
Brushing down her crisp blue uniform and making sure her greying amber hair was fixed tightly in its bun, Melda pressed the buzzer to open the door. The oak door immediately unlocked, swinging open to reveal a nervous looking teenage boy.
Melda quirked an eyebrow, the boy didn't look any older than sixteen. Standing there with his hands shoved roughly in his pockets and shoulders slumped, he looked like a typical brooding teenager.
This Son Gohan beheld all the qualities of a punk kid; scruffy ebony hair that reached his waist, jeans so tight that they barely fit over his backside, chunky biker boots that were scuffed to high heaven and a tight dark t-shirt stretched over his torso. His right ear was stretched with something that resembled a plug, his jeans ripped by the knees and a studded belt clipped around his waist. Tattoos covered the entirety of his left arm.
How on earth did his mother let him out the house?
It was evident that the boy did some form of working out and obviously made no attempt to hide from that fact. His muscles were large for his age, yet lean, and his tight clothes only extenuated them. It was another typical teenage lust story, from what Melda could see.
Gohan's face was full boyish charm, something she had seen young girls fawn over time and time again. The girl would fall head over heels, their young hearts being promised the world and end up getting pregnant in a swirl of teenage lust. Of course, the boy would miraculously disappear out of the picture soon after, leaving the girl with a newborn and a broken heart.
From Miss Lao's notes it was clear that Gohan was not present at the birth, confirming Melda's suspicions.
And yet, there was something odd about this young man that the old nurse couldn't quite put her finger on. His onyx eyes looked haunted, framed by bags of exhaustion and raw from tears. As much as her loyalties lay with the broken hearted girls, she couldn't help but feel for the boy, his ex-girlfriend had died tragically, and his son had nearly joined her.
Melda gave Gohan a small but reassuring smile, and beckoned him to follow her.
It seemed to put the young man at ease, as he let out a nervous breath he had been holding for quite some time. Maintaining her professionalism, Melda introduced herself and explained the brief layout of the ward. She informed him the condition of the baby boy and how he was progressing.
Gohan merely nodded in confirmation, yet Melda couldn't tell if his reserved nature was because of his nerves or down to pure rude ignorance.
"This is our high dependency bay," she informed quietly, stepping into the room at the end of the corridor.
The nurse looked to Gohan, who had visibly paled as soon as he had entered the room. Sighing knowingly, Melda thought it best to give the boy some time alone to process the information she had given him. She pointed the teenager in the direction of his newborn son and made the excuse of fetching his notes, leaving him to his own devices.
As the nurse left Gohan in her wake, the teenage boy couldn't find the will to make his legs move. The room was almost peaceful, the small sounds of beeping monitors reaching his ears in a somewhat soothing rhythm. There were eight incubators in total, a couple lay empty whilst the rest held tiny fragile creatures that were bathed in soft lamplight, wires and tubes weaved around them.
The young saiyan felt completely out of his depth, he hadn't thought that the baby - a boy - may be in anyway compromised.
Then again, according to the nurse, he was just over a week old.
One week.
That whole time another part of him had been in this world and he had no idea.
He bit his lip, his mind foggy. Why didn't Lime tell him she was pregnant? Had he really hurt her that much? Maybe she thought that she didn't need him, but he had most certainly needed her. A part of him was angry, was she even going to tell him at all?
Gohan shook his head, he could dwell on that later. His brain was still attempting to process what the nurse had told him about the baby boy. Intensive care, lung collapse, carbon monoxide poisoning, oxygen therapy. The jargon swirled around his mind in some sort of confusing jumble.
A quiet mutter broke him out of his thoughts, causing him to turn his gaze to a couple next to an incubator to his right. They were hunched over what he assumed to be their baby, that was tiny and premature.
The pair were giving him an odd look, the woman whispering in her partner's ear before they turned away. The teenager didn't have to have Piccolo's hearing to know he was being talked about.
The feeling slowly began to return to his limbs, finally finding himself able to turn away from the uncomfortable stares, walking toward the far left hand side of the bay as Melda instructed.
The young teen only made it a few steps before he stopped cold, his heart hammering in his chest, the reality of it all hitting him full force as his eyes fell upon the name card above the incubator.
Baby Lao-Son
Of all the horror and evil he had faced in his fifteen years; being kidnapped by Garlic Junior and his henchmen, and again by his crazed uncle, surviving for six months in the wilderness, then another six months training for a gruesome battle no five year old should see, let alone play an active role in. He had seen his friends die and be brutally murdered in front of his eyes, he had lost his father on more than one occasion, and then for good. He had seen tyranny in all its dreadful form; Frieza, King Cold, Cooler. He fought alien monsters of legend and killed because it was either them or his friends.
The teenager had known fear, he had seen it reflected in Cell's eyes as he ascended past super saiyan, and then within Videl's when he had almost strangled Borbonne. He had felt that fear of failure, the fear he would have to take his father's place and equally make his mother just as proud. The young saiyan couldn't bare the fear no longer, so went his own way, struggled not to feel, not to care, but now, but now….
Gohan had never been so scared in his entire life.
Taking a shuddering breath, he slowly made his way over to the incubator, forcing himself to look.
The young teen's eyes widened, he was so tiny. He had never seen a person so small. Of all the babies he had been around in his life, he never knew they could look so fragile.
Casting his onyx eyes over the baby's small frame, Gohan's breath hitched in his throat, and he quickly felt the overwhelming urge to jump out of the window and fly back to The Lookout.
Gazing through the glass pane once more, there was no denying that this baby was his son, he recognised the furry brown appendage all too well.
Regaining his composure, he gradually took in every aspect of the newborn, shuffling his legs over to a nearby chair to sit down in and get a closer look.
The baby's tiny head held a tuft of unruly ebony hair that was poking out of a woollen hat. Other than that and his nappy, the boy was completely bare, allowing for tubes and wiring to pierce his peach toned skin. What looked like a feeding tube travelled up his button nose, stuck to his chubby cheek by a strip of tape. Round sticky pads were secured to his chest, attached to a heart monitor that beeped and ticked next to the incubator.
The baby boy had a cannula inserted into his arm, allowing much needed fluids and antibiotics to drain into his system. An oxygen mask was strapped to his face, causing his tiny ribcage to rise and fall with an almost rapid motion. The last remains of his umbilical cord peaked out over his nappy. A soft warm glow of lamplight engulfed the child, warming the mattress and blankets that surrounded him.
He couldn't believe that he had actually made this little creature, him and Lime. He was their son. Half him and half her, the thought was surreal.
"Would you like to say hello?"
He jumped, having not even realised that Nurse Melda was behind him. She held a bunch of notes in her arms, and was giving him a knowing smile. It was then he realised he had unconsciously placed his palm to the glass, right next to the baby's head.
There was a twinkle in Melda's blue eyes as she bustled over to the incubator, not bothering to wait for Gohan's answer. Slowly, she opened one of the circular windows, just enough for him to fit his hand through.
"Well, go ahead," she said firmly, standing back from the glass and watching his movements intently.
The young saiyan obeyed, placing a shaky hand inside the warm incubator, his fingers gently brushing against the boy's knee.
In an instant, he felt a spark of electricity travel through his fingertips, and it seemed the baby had felt it too, as his eyelids snapped open and he looked at the teen with striking green eyes.
Gohan gasped, awestruck by the emerald gems that shone out of the boy's delicate features.
Where he inherited those from was a mystery, but he was simply enchanted by the beauty of the child. He studied him closer, finding that those emerald eyes were framed by small freckles that sat on his cheeks, exactly like Lime's did.
The teenager took his time, caressing the boy's soft skin, drinking in every little feature, every joint, crease and fingernail. Gohan found himself falling more in awe of him as he discovered more about the little boy, like the cheeky dimples either side of his mouth, and the way his eyebrows knitted when he brushed the soft fur of his tail.
"Is there someone I can call for you, young man?" Melda's voice came from behind him.
She now wore a pair of spectacles and was busy writing in the baby's notes from a nearby desk.
Gohan looked at her, shaking his head as his fingers stroked the boy's tail, "No, not right now."
"You look like you haven't slept a wink dear." She sighed, as she received no answer from the teenager, "Why don't I get you a blanket and a warm drink and telephone a family member? That way you can have a little sleep before someone arrives."
The young saiyan bit his lip, sleep did seem amazing right now, his eyes were starting to become heavier with each passing second. Alas, he knew he would have to face the music eventually.
"Could you call Bulma? She's a family friend," he asked, he wanted to hold off being castrated by his mother for as long as possible.
The nurse nodded kindly, scribbling down Bulma's mobile number and leaving the bay. A few moments later she returned with a pillow and a thermal blanket, along with a steaming mug of cocoa for the teen.
He sipped the drink gladly, the liquid warming him as it went down. The couple across from him had long left, leaving him all alone with the babies in the bay, the only noise the beeping sounds coming from the monitors.
The teenager was craving another cigarette, but was too tired to make his way out to the front of the hospital. The sun had begun to creep through the blinds next to him, casting shadows upon the pristine floor.
The baby boy had fallen back to sleep, and Gohan couldn't blame him, he had gone through just as much as he in the last few hours.
Closing the incubator window shut the teenager sat back in his seat, wrapping the blanket around his torso before he steadily let sleep overcome him.
