It was raining.

As it had been for over a month now.

And in between the nightmares, in his little bits of consciousness, he could hear the falling rain tap against his rusty tin roof.

Most of it flooded effortlessly off the metal and onto the ground at the sides of the cabin, but a little always managed to leak through, dripping onto the old wooden floor just beside the antique wood-fired stove. It was an annoyance, one he tried fixing before, but in his "sleep" he couldn't hear it.

Then came the booming thunder, and it woke him in a panic. Terrified, he shot up and looked around the log cabin, illuminated by only the coals of the stove.

Drip

Drip

Drip

The leaking water subtly drew his attention. It dropped slowly and constantly onto the floor, forming a little reflective puddle at the side of the stove.

Oddly, it relaxed him and gave his mind enough clarity to feel his aching body. Groaning, he covered himself with his wool blanket, sinking back into his mat.

This was the first time Gohan had been sick since he was seven.

He remembered how awful those couple of weeks were. He was always in his bed, with a cold cloth just above his eyes, and every day Chi-Chi brought him different homemade soups whose aromas would fill the whole house.

Sometimes she made him chowder, sometimes she made him soba, but when he was really sick, she always made him mushroom soup. And, although he enjoyed the soup, those days were always the worst. The ones where he was so sick he couldn't even lift his arm and she'd need to spoon-feed him every meal.

But at least her love and attention helped take his mind off the fact that his father was still gone, training on a distant planet hundreds of star systems away. He knew it was for the best, and he knew he was coming home, but him being gone still hurt like nothing else did.

He sniffled before sneezing into his gi.

"Aw, man..." He nasally whispered, pulling his gi away from him to look at the damage. It looked pretty clean which was a relief because he really didn't want to put in the effort to wash it right now.

He looked back to the puddle and then over at the empty steel kettle resting on the side of the stove, away from the fire beneath it. His mouth watered at the idea of miso or soba, but if he wanted soup, he'd have to make it himself and that was far beyond his capabilities.

A flash of lightning startled him, temporarily interrupting his cravings. Tiredly, he forced himself off of his mat to go take a look outside, tripping over his satchel and unlatching it as he stood up.

Over at the windowsill, the lightning continued to flash and the rain began to pour down even harder. From how dark it was outside, he guessed it couldn't have been any later than four or five in the morning so it'd be a few hours before he began his search for the day.

Satisfied, he turned away from the window and pulled the chair out from under his table, sitting in it promptly. He scooted forward and looked at the map he'd spread across the table.

He had been searching for about eight months now, but when he looked at his progress he only felt a sense of shame and disappointment. Mostly because, despite no attacks from Gero and no distractions, he hadn't made very much.

On his map, he had a large rectangular area marked in red surrounding the entire equator. These were some of, if not, the hottest areas in the world which were just what Gero needed, so in all likelihood, he was there.

Inside of the rectangle he had about a fourth marked off in grey, signifying them as areas he had cleared. He traced his finger around that depressing grey portion of the map before sighing defeatedly and resting his head on his hand. He hated that he was so slow in searching, even though he knew the reason: It was because he did both a ground and aerial search of every square kilometer he surveyed.

But was that overkill? Was that what was slowing him down so much? But what if he missed something? Then he'd have to search the same areas all over again which would just eat away more time.

Feeling flustered, he stood from his chair and walked away from the map. He found himself doing that more and more often. He hated this monotonous, endless quest that reminded him just how little he could accomplish. One year only to search a quarter of the planet's jungles, how pathetic was that? He began to wonder just how much better his father or Piccolo could have done with the same amount of time, but before he could put much of his mind into it, he pushed those thoughts down. The less was thinking about his father the better. In his mind, that was the only way he could bear being alone again. That was the only way to numb the pain.

On his way back to his mat he noticed a file's edge peeking out from the satchel. He pulled it out revealing Gebo's profile. He had gone over it many, many times so he didn't think much of it, that was until he saw the large emboldened words printed in crimson at the top:

RED RIBBON ARMY

Now there was a thought. He had been meaning to go back to the Red Ribbon fortress to search for clues for months now. Maybe today, in his sickly state, was the day to do it. Well, not now, of course, it was still too early, and honestly, for the time being, he just felt like being on his mat.

Carefully, he placed the file back into the leather satchel and relatched it. Then, he laid his sore body back onto his mat, and his head on his pillow. He already felt tired, mostly because he never could get more than two or three hours of sleep in a row anymore. His conscience just wouldn't allow for any more than that. But at least it did allow him to go back to sleep after a few minutes of post nightmare recovery; it was merciful in that sense.

He closed his eyes only for a moment and when he opened them, he was no longer on his mat, he was in his own bed, back home in Mount Pouzu. Confused, he looked around his room for the first time in over four years. Everything was just as he remembered it, picture-perfect down to the last detail, but, it all felt so foreign to him. Even his desk, where he spent the majority of his time, with all of its books and school work scattered across it, looked alien. Like it was a part of a life he'd left behind

Pulling the covers off of himself, he sat up and pressed his feet down on the floor. The slight squeakiness of the wood and the shiny polish on it was unforgettable and unreplicable. He almost wanted to say this was real because everything certainly felt real to him. Every sense of his was fooled into thinking he really was back in his room, the only thing not fooled was his mind.

He knew was just an extremely lucid dream. They didn't come very often, but when they did, they always came with fevers. Always.

He stood up and crept towards his door, opening it slightly and peeking through the crack. Out in the hallway, there was nothing but an eery silence.

"M-mom?" He called.

He huffed to himself, what was he expecting? If his mother was here she wouldn't be listening for him. She would be finding some way of keeping herself busy.

She was always busy. It was the perfect word to describe her. Whether it was meaningful work or not, she was always busy. Cooking, cleaning, washing clothes, drying clothes, watering flowers, knitting, sewing, there was always something she was doing.

Gohan stepped out into the hallway and noticed the barren walls. This was something he'd never seen before. His mother was always looking for an excuse to hang a family photo or put up some new house decor she thought looked cute. Never in his entire life had he ever seen a wall empty like this.

He stayed quiet and listened, hoping to hear the rocking of a chair or the boiling of some rice, but there was only silence, so much so that it began to concern him. Maybe this wasn't the peaceful dream it appeared to be.

He entered the kitchen and, as he feared, there was nothing. No table, no chairs, no pictures, no recipe books, and no signs of recent use. It seemed like the whole house was empty, unlived in aside from his own room.

For some reason seeing the house so cold and hollow hurt him deeply. He was angry that the only room still furnished was his. It must have been him that pushed his mother away, pushed her out from the only home she'd ever known since marrying his father. It was good he planned against this sort of thing, this was exactly why he needed to leave first; to prevent hurting anyone else.

He walked from the kitchen to the front door and turned the knob, he could hear the sounds of the puddles splashing already. Seems like even in his dreams it was raining. He pushed it open and walked outside and, as the rain poured onto him, he could feel every drop as they landed on the top of his head.

The sound of the rain hitting the ground hid all other noise, and he traveled blindly away from his childhood home. He hoped this dream wouldn't last too much longer, he didn't want to think about this any more than he had to.

Slowly, the distance between him and the house grew, and he wandered deeper and deeper into the forests of Mount Pouzu, all the while the rain continued barrelling down on top of him.

Off to his sides, he began to notice little shifts deep in the trees, nothing large, just small unusual movements, but they were still enough to frighten him. His mind usually didn't take this long to come up with some way to torture him. He walked a little faster and saw the movements come a little closer to the open. There looked to be multiple of them, on both sides of the path he traveled, and as he picked up the speed so did they.

Attempting to throw them for a loop, he started sprinting. He hoped they would try and keep up with him, so he could lure them out in the open, but instead, they vanished. He kept running for a while after that, just to put some distance between him and whatever things were chasing him.

It was reassuring when he continued to see more of the same still forests, it made him more comfortable with the idea of slowing down, and, eventually, he did. He held onto his knees, hunched over with his heart beating out of his chest. He couldn't remember the last time he had to do that, usually, he could sprint for hundreds of miles without feeling the least bit tired, but that was real life, this was just in his mind.

Lighting struck across the sky, and on the sides of his path, four figures appeared. He could feel their eyes watching him, especially the four that were just outside of his vision. They seemed to have been expecting him, he got the feeling it had been for a long time. Each looked slightly different from the others, in some ways he couldn't describe, but one thing they all had in common was the uncertain shape of their form. They didn't look to be well defined like they would if they had bodies. It was almost like they weren't really anything physical at all. Like they were see-through.

Another flash of lightning hit and instantly they lunged towards him. He wanted to react, to attempt to fight them but his body refused. They all grabbed onto him and pulled him to the muddied ground. Terrified, he tried to scream, but even that proved impossible, all that left his mouth were a few quiet squeaks and rapid, short exhales.

The figures collectively brought their faces closer, revealing them to be entirely featureless. Simultaneously, they began to hiss.

"Failure!" "Weakling!" "Unwanted!" "Worthless!"

Over and over they repeated the same four words while clawing into his arms and legs. Gohan tried to struggle, kick, scream, do whatever he could to get free, but that only made their claws dig deeper.

A final flash of lightning struck and as its light ceased, Gohan woke back up on his mat. He was drenched in sweat and felt like he was suffocating. Quickly gripping the covers and throwing them off of his body, he escaped their overwhelming weight and heat.

Instinctively, he curled up and hugged his shaking knees, bringing them close to his chest for minor comfort.

It was just a dream, you're okay. It was just a dream. It wasn't real.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Gohan lifted his head and looked to the roof, it was leaking still, right next to the stove just like before.

It was relieving to see he was back in his cabin and out of that nightmare. At least out here, in the real world, he could put up a fight against whatever or whoever tried to harm him. He didn't have to worry about his body refusing to fight or his mind conjuring up some horrible monster to torment him. Out here he was less vulnerable.

Hoping to take his mind off that horrible dream, he looked outside. Heavy rain still fell but a little bit of light was visible as it passed through the dark rain clouds; finally, it was light enough outside for him to start searching.

He sat up on his mat and felt his forehead. It was hot like the coals of a fire which, of course, was bad, but not bad enough to keep him in bed.

With great effort, he got off of his mat and slid his satchel over his shoulder, carefully resting it at his side.

Okay, first is the base, and if that doesn't work out...I guess I can try clearing out a little land.

He pushed open the door and walked out onto the porch.

Maybe I'll get lucky and actually find Gero today. He thought to himself with a fabricated, paper-thin sense of optimism.

One step at a time, he exited his safe little wooden home and entered into the rain. He rose up into the air and worked to get above the clouds as quickly as possible.

Using his hand to guard his eyes, he flew until he had broken through the dark fluffy mass and was bathed in the unwelcome light of the sun. Though he only really disliked it because of his fever, it added a couple of degrees to what would be a refreshingly frigid altitude.

He lowered his hand and dried it on what little part of his gi that wasn't completely saturated by rain before opening his satchel. He reached inside and pulled out a miniaturized version of his much larger map and a small silver compass. He didn't like using these tools, simply because most of the time he didn't need them, all he needed was to search for a familiar ki in the area, and then he'd know exactly where to go and how to get there. Then again, this was not most of the time, was it?

He opened up the map and looked towards Korin's tower. He wasn't far from there and he knew that the Red Ribbon Base was somewhere further south, near the mountains.

Okay...

He watched the hands of the compass turn as he did.

South.

He looked at the map and, unsure of what bearing he should travel at, he figured he'd wing it and begin searching through the mountains once he reached them.

While stuffing the two items back in the bag, he consciously prepared himself to fly near Korin's tower and subsequently, the lookout. Gohan knew he'd sense...him...up there, but all he could do at that point was try and keep a level head and focus on the task at hand.

Now certain on what he planned to do, he began flying. Below him, the rainclouds stretched for hundreds of miles, all across the western hemisphere's portion of the equator.

He didn't know it at the time, but the reason behind all the rain was because a couple of tropical storms had decided to travel up north after rampaging through South City and the islands surrounding it. And, due to the distance they had to travel to get to the mainland, mixed in with the uneven terrain, this was the end of their warpath. They'd be forced to sit there for a few more weeks, unable to travel any further.

During the flight toward Korins, his mind wandered back to that dream. Initially, he was thinking about home, about how strange and wrong it felt to be there. He didn't realize until that moment how much he feared going back home and seeing his heartbroken mother. In some sick way, it made him happy he wouldn't stick around for too long.

Then he thought about those figures. Something about them disturbed him and yet, he couldn't be sure what it was, but it felt like it was on the tip of his tongue. Was it because he couldn't be sure of what exactly they were? They certainly didn't look like any creatures he'd ever seen before. Maybe that was it. He couldn't remember the last nightmare he had where it wasn't someone he'd come in contact with ridiculing or torturing him.

Only a few minutes later, he had arrived at Korin's tower. He didn't land there in the hopes to avoid talking to Korin, mainly out of fear for what he might say, but also to minimize the amount of time he was there. He could sense Goku far above him and couldn't stand being even this close to him for more than a couple of minutes. The temptation for him to fly up there and apologize over and over again was just too great.

Quickly pulling his map out, he looked for the mountains south of him, the closest looked to be about two hundred or so miles away and the farthest, about six hundred. He figured it made the most sense to start from the top and work his way down, so he'd head for the closest first.

As he continued on his journey, he wasn't thinking about how many miles ahead he had left to go, he was thinking about how many miles he was putting behind him. All he wanted right then was to just get his father out of his base sensing range because the sooner he was out of it, the sooner he could focus.

Thankfully, the miles added up fast and soon he was well out of range, giving Gohan just enough time to notice he was, supposedly, at where the mountains began. The only reason he knew that though was because he just flew by one, with its crest peeking through the clouds.

Turning his head, he glanced briefly at the mountain cap and slowed to a stop.

"Guess I'm here." He said before facing the shrouded glow of lighting below him.

A multitude of the clouds bubbled with the violent essence of electricity and they enjoyed hurling the bolts towards the ground with unrelenting fury. It was in between these outbursts that Gohan would make his move, but until then he'd have to wait.

And while he waited and watched the storm beneath him, he thought about how nice it was going to be once he was wet again. All the original rain that had soaked his clothes was now mostly evaporated, allowing his fever to go to work heating his body back up. A fresh new layer of water would be just the trick to stop it in its tracks.

He actually became so wrapped up in the idea of being cold again he initially didn't notice that the sound of the lightning had stopped. But when he did, he gave a light tug on his satchel, ensuring it was closed, and dropped beneath the clouds just before the lightning continued.

Nearly immediately, he could see the mountains below him, and just behind them was the remains of the Red Ribbon Fortress. When he spotted them he actually didn't believe that he had found the base so easily. It felt like things didn't often go this well for him.

From afar, he could tell the base was in poor condition but he had no idea how decrepit it had become until he landed. Walls had collapsed. Ammunition depots had been raided. Even the cobblestone main road, on which countless soldiers used to travel, was taken back by mother nature and her flock of moss, flowers, and weeds.

There was a funny, ironic sense of karma in this and as Gohan approached Red's castle it was not lost on him. Every single building, that hadn't collapsed, of course, had its golden roof stripped away. All that was left were the rafters, which after three years of exposure to the elements, had copious amounts of fungi and mushrooms growing.

While looking at one of the rooftops, he took notice of an alleyway at its side. He remembered this exact alleyway, even when those bulletholes edged into the brick walls were made. It was just after Goku had come up with the brilliant idea to use the roofs to get closer to the castle, something Gohan hadn't even considered.

He remembered the warm feeling he got when Goku looped his arm around him and pulled him away from the gunfire. He knew it was only to get him in position to be lifted to the rooftops with the power pole, but, that arm around him spoke volumes as to how much he meant to his father.

Turning away from the alley, he pulled himself away from that memory and back to the present.

How stupid are you? You knew what thinking about him would do to you.

He could already feel the lump in his throat forming.

Get going! You're here for a reason remember?!

Splashing through the rain and the puddles, he hurried further up the road until he hit Commander Red's tower.

Now thoroughly soaked from his journey along the road, he hid from the rain in the overhang of the tower and looked up. Strangely enough, the tower seemed to be the only portion of the base that had held up, aside from the gaping hole near the top of it that was made during their assault. Perhaps in time, it will be consumed like the rest of the base, but for right now he needed it.

He opened the double doors leading to the base of the tower and entered. The lobby looked just as it did three years ago, with only the front desk and an elevator populating it.

For a moment he thought about pressing the call button, but from the lack of functioning lights anywhere, there was no way the elevator had power. Good thing he really didn't need the elevator, all he needed was to break open and fly into the shaft, which is exactly what he did.

Inside, it was nearly pitch black, but that wasn't really much of a problem anymore. He had the foresight to buy a flashlight, practically at the start of his searching eight months ago. It fixed the problem of flying around aimlessly at night and having to go Super Saiyan in dark environments like this in order to see.

Expecting the shaft to only extend upwards, Gohan pointed the light up there first but to his surprise, when he pointed it downwards, the shaft traveled down as well, and not just by a couple of yards. Intrigued, he floated down the shaft to the very bottom where the only floor was located.

Gohan pulled at the elevator doors, moving them to the side with ease, and watched water begin to trickle out into the shaft.

"A leak? This far down?" he said, confused.

He peaked his head into the room, it looked to one of Red's personal offices, complete with a wooden interior and multiple framed paintings of himself. While looking around, he noticed a large door that, at first glance, blended in with the walls very well.

"Huh...guess this isn't a bunker then."