A/N: Hello, everyone! A few little notes about this story: Firstly, as part of the changes I made to the Majin Buu Saga, I moved the whole timeline up a little bit, so the emotional weight of the previous arc would carry over to the Buu arc a lot better. As such, I had to change Goten and Trunks' birth dates a little bit. For this, I tried to fiddle with the timeline and worked out that Trunks would have been born in 763, making him 6 at the time of my story (and Goten 5). Hope that helps make things make sense. Second, I'm a relatively new fan of Dragon Ball Z and this is my first story for it, so while I've done my best to keep the characters consistent and not mess up any details, I can't promise that I always followed the manga/anime perfectly. Since this is my own rewrite of the story, I did take a few liberties here and there, but hopefully its enjoyable to read no matter what. Finally, I did want to say that this is the first story that I have COMPLETELY prewritten and is fully finished, so I will be able to upload all the chapters consistently (probably about one a week).

Thank you so much for reading this message if you made it this far and for reading the story! I hope you all like it! :)

Gohan panted for breath, feeling strangely like an animal in a zoo. He hated this. He hated it with his whole being. All he really wanted was to go home, but that wasn't an option yet. Android 16 had made that perfectly clear.

He could still hear his own screams ringing in his ears. First screams of pain and fear as he was beaten mercilessly by Cell, then a different kind of scream as unimaginable power filled his being. That scream was different, more complicated. That scream was full of fear and hurt just like the previous ones, but it was also full of determination, a desire to save his friends, his family, and his planet, a desire to make his father proud. But, perhaps above all else, it was full of anger, of pure unadulterated rage.

That was the thing that Gohan was scared of the most. He had felt himself explode with power out of fear and even anger before, but it was nothing like what he was experiencing now. The tears that had flowed from his eyes had all but dried up– though the sadness behind them still lingered– and the heat radiating off of his skin was distracting, almost unbearable. Gohan had never gotten sick in his life, but he wondered what temperature a thermometer would read, wondered if this was how real Earthlings felt when they were sick. Only Gohan wasn't sick, he was fighting a giant robot, cell creature from the future.

He was fighting, and he was winning.

He was winning, and it felt good.

Gohan had never been as fond of fighting as his father was, had never taken to the Saiyan side of his blood as well as he sometimes wished he could, so when he reached a higher form of the Super Saiyan he had grown accustomed to, when he felt a strange sense of calm wash over him in the midst of a battle that had shaken him to his core only minutes ago, Gohan found himself feeling unnaturally exhilarated. Cell had hurt his friends, had tried to take everything Gohan loved away from him. For that, he had to pay. For that, Gohan would make him suffer.

At least… that's what he thought, but fighting Cell felt good. Bringing the man to his need felt good, and that was what scared Gohan the most. This wasn't the person that he wanted to be, not really. It was almost as if he could feel the Saiyan blood fighting for dominance inside of him, threatening to stamp out any semblance of the human. As much as he had transformed into a powerful new physical form, he also felt himself transforming in other ways.

So when he looked into Cell's eyes- ready to deliver a painful finishing blow- and saw the deep-seated fear in his eyes, the almost human desperation to live, he hesitated.

He hesitated because he saw someone he didn't recognize as himself reflected back. He hesitated because he had never really killed before. Not on purpose. Not with intent. Certainly not with malice. And that was all that seemed to fill his heart.

"I'm giving you one last chance. Give up, and never harm anyone ever again," Gohan said, unsure even as the words escaped him. He was sure 16 was right, sure that Cell could never give up, much less be reformed. Still, he had to try.

Cell had beaten him without mercy, so what mercy did Gohan owe him? But wasn't that part of what separated them from people like Cell? If he relished in the feeling of taking a life, didn't that make Gohan just as bad, just as evil as the many villains they had faced off against in the past? He needed to do this, he had to. But… could he really? He couldn't take someone's life without at least trying to save it first.

It didn't really matter in the end. That one second of hesitation was all it took.

Before Gohan could even blink, Cell's fearful face contorted into a wicked and cocky smile as the man regenerated himself.

Gohan lashed out at him, trying to make up for the few moments he had lost in his thoughts, but it was too late. Cell began to expand sickeningly, declaring his intention to take the whole planet down with him.

The world froze around Gohan. He had hesitated. Just like always, he had hesitated. All that training, all the growing he thought he had done… all gone in the space of a second. Now it was too late. He had to take responsibility, had to find a way to fix things, to save everyone. What were his options? He could try flying Cell out of Earth. Perhaps he wouldn't quite be able to get as far as he would have liked, but maybe he could get far enough to stop anyone from getting seriously hurt or dying. Then there was that technique his father had used. Instant Transmission, was it? He hadn't learned how to do that, but now was as good a time as any to learn.

Come on, Gohan. Think. Choose. Move!

But before he could decide on a course of action, Gohan felt an all too familiar Ki signature appear before him. His father was standing there, one hand pressed against Cell and one holding two fingers to his forehead.

"You put up a good fight, Gohan. I'm proud of you."

Dad? He couldn't bring himself to speak, eyes thrown wide in confusion.

"Take care of your mother for me. She needs you."

"Dad, wait!" Gohan shouted, still glued to the floor. "Dad, I can do this. Dad, please!"

Why? Why would his father sacrifice himself for his stupid mistake? For his innocence and naivety? Gohan knew he was no warrior, so why did he have to be born with the power of one? Why couldn't anyone else, anyone more capable have been born instead?

"I know you can," Goku whispered with a smile. "Goodbye, my son."

"NO!" Gohan screamed after his father, but he disappeared in a flash. It was too late.

For a moment, the world was silent. Somehow, it felt as if any minute his father would come back, would reappear out of nowhere to hug Gohan and tell him everything would be okay, but he didn't. He wasn't coming back. Kneeling in the sand, unable to even summon tears, Gohan felt truly alone. Somehow, there was no time to grieve as the wind suddenly picked up, kicking the dust and dirt into a frenzy, and a powerful Ki signature appeared.

Through the brown haze, a single beam of light cut through, followed closely by a scream of pain. In his peripheral vision, Gohan saw Vegeta run toward Trunks, lifting him up slightly in his arms. Trunks had been hit, and he wasn't moving.

"I told you, 'I am Perfect.'"

"No way…" Gohan heard his friends mutter as the dust cleared and Cell's from reappeared before them, Ki signature stronger than ever.

Vegeta screamed, bursting with Super Saiyan energy and rushing toward Cell who just looked rather bored. Vegeta unleashed a barrage of attacks at him, comboing punches, kicks, and Ki blasts, but not landing a single good hit. All the while, Gohan remained glued to the floor, hopelessness taking over his body.

His father was dead. Trunks was dead. All of his friends, all of humanity were as good as dead, and it was all his fault. His hesitation. His weakness. Again.

The only thing that cut through was the sound of Vegeta being flung across the battlefield, landing with a thud, unable to get back up. Cell laughed, preparing a blast to end Vegeta once and for all. Gohan felt fear rise within him again, crushing fistfuls of dirt in his hands. He always thought too much when he shouldn't and not enough when he should. He couldn't get out of his head, didn't have a warrior's instinct. He was weak, he knew that, but he couldn't bear to see anyone else die.

Without thinking he shouted, surging forward to protect the self-proclaimed Saiyan prince, but it was all he could do just to get his body to move, relying on it to take the blast rather than deflecting it with any attack of his own. Pain flared in his left arm before fading, leaving him feeling nothing at all and unable to move it as it hung limply by his side.

Breath coming out in too-strong, rapid breaths, Gohan racked his mind to think of a next step, but came up completely empty. Retreat wasn't an option, nor would it do him any good, but battling wasn't really an option either. After all, Cell was in the best condition he'd been in all day while Gohan only had one working arm.

Cell jumped back, preparing another blast, this time bigger than any other. A blast capable of wiping out an entire solar system, never mind what was left of Earth's fighting force.

Snapping him out of his thoughts, Gohan felt Vegeta's hand grab onto his ankle. He looked down at the man, an unfamiliar look of remorse gracing the man's face.

"I'm… sorry, Gohan," was all he said before losing consciousness, just a few feet away from his son's dead body. The son that he had never gotten to know. Cell had ripped Trunk's future away from him, and now he was going to take everyone else's too.

No. Gohan thought to himself. He couldn't let that happen. Everything may have seemed hopeless, but the least he could do was die trying to fix it.

With barely any time to prepare a blast of his own, Gohan pulled his right arm back.

"Ka… me…" He thought of all the friends behind him, of Android 16 who had inspired him, who he had failed to protect.

"Ha… me…" He thought of his father, of how he had laid down his life so easily, not even hesitating a moment before throwing himself into action. Gohan wasn't sure if he could ever live up to that, but he had to try. This was a battle he would either win or die as himself. Though he supposed the two didn't have to be mutually exclusive.

"HA!" Gohan released what energy he had left, meeting Cell's own blast just before it made contact. Gohan slid back slightly, leaving a small trail in the dirt.

At the other end of the blast, Cell released a hearty laugh. "Hard to think you're the same warrior I fought just a moment ago. Look at you, you're just a kid," the last word was full of venom as Cell spat it out at Gohan. The worst part was that it was true. Gohan hadn't felt so small, so powerless in so long, and yet, it also seemed like this was always how he was destined to live.

Cell's blast inched closer as Gohan threatened to lose his footing. This was it. All hope was lost.

"Just give up. You've already lost."

Gohan felt his arm slip. He prepared himself to let it fall. Prepared himself for the darkness that would imminently take him. At least he would see his father sooner than he thought.

"I'm sorry, dad. I wasn't strong enough after all," Gohan uttered, keeling to the side ever-so-slightly as he felt his Ki blast begin to dissipate, hand almost burning from the heat of Cell's as it drew ever closer.

"You are strong enough. You know that."

Gohan's head snapped up at the sound of his father's voice. He wanted to turn around, but he couldn't take his concentration off of Cell, and he didn't need to to know that his father was there.

"You have to destroy every last cell, so throw everything you've got into it on my count," his father's voice was clear, and Gohan could have sworn he could feel him physically supporting him.

Goku gently pulled Gohan's arm back slightly, allowing the boy to feel a surge of Ki flow into him.

"Ready? Three… two… one…"

Even as the blast inched ever closer, Gohan waited, heeding his fathers words and feeling like he was playing the worst game of chicken in history.

Suddenly, a Ki blast hit Cell from the side, throwing him off his balance just enough to tear an opening into his defense.

"Now's your chance!" Goku screamed, releasing Gohan's arm.

Leaning into his father's presence, Gohan thrust his arm forward, building on his anger, his grief, his frustration, and letting out a cry accompanied by one last surge of power. Slowly, Gohan's blast enveloped Cell's, almost feeding off of the latter's own energy. Despite his heavy body, Gohan moved forward, taking step after step closer to Cell who was fully covered by his blast.

"No, no, NO!" Cell screamed out, but it was no use.

He couldn't fail here. He couldn't hesitate again. This time, he would not only kill Cell, he would ensure that he could never come back.

Gohan touched his hand to Cell's chest, making direct eye-contact with him as he whispered.

"This… is for my father."

Cell released one last scream as he went flying into the sky, going further and further until he was ejected into space itself, then going even further still. Gohan flew up tracking Cell's movement, holding the blast as long as he could and ensuring that he wouldn't be coming back. Even after his Ki depleted, even as he panted for breath and felt fiery pain spread through his body, Gohan remained in the air by sheer force of will, staying there until he was sure: Cell wasn't coming back. He had nothing left to regenerate. Holding his numb arm and looking down at his friends below, Gohan smiled, quickly allowing it to turn into an almost psychotic laugh.

Cell had returned stronger than ever, but somehow he had done it.

All at once, Gohan felt the power rush out of him, bright yellow hair returning to a deep black in the edges of his suddenly blurry vision. The speeding wind caused cold air to sting his once hot frame as his body fell with increasing speed. For his part, Gohan tried to slow his descent, but he didn't think he had enough Ki left for anyone to even sense, nevermind enough to control his body. Still, as he shot downward toward the Earth, the smile never left his face and his father's comforting presence remained in his mind.

To his surprise, Gohan never hit the ground, being caught by strong arms mid-air and brought gently down to the ground. He was losing consciousness and awareness fast, so the last thing he heard was the gruff voice of Vegeta, uttering words he would probably never have said if he thought Gohan would actually hear or remember them.

Gohan awoke from his dream with a start. Panting, he looked down at his hands expecting to see the burnt and bloody remains of Cell, but finding nothing.

It had been two years since the Cell Games, and Gohan still dreamt of that day often. He knew how it ended. His friends used the Dragon Balls to bring everyone back to life, everyone except his father. His father had insisted that he only attracted trouble, that they would have been better off without him. Gohan didn't agree, but it wasn't like they could bring him back with the Earth's Dragon Balls anyway. It was his father's decision, and he had to respect that. That was what he had been telling himself anyway.

Ultimately, they returned Trunks to his own time and Mr. Satan came out looking like the hero of the world, nevermind the city. It was absurd from any angle, but Gohan didn't really mind much. He never felt like much of a hero anyway, and- really- he wasn't one.

Though he had smiled and laughed in the immediate aftermath of the battle, much darker thoughts plagued him when he finally awoke, seeing the destruction of the city and the hurt Goku's disappearance caused. Sure, he had done it, had saved the day, but at what cost? Even as his friends cheered him on and praised him for his heroism, Gohan couldn't help but think about all that his weakness had cost them. Nearly the entire planet had been destroyed, and it was all because of him.

He knew how the story from his dream ended, but it always cut off at the same place every time he had it, and he had a feeling he knew why. Because it was at the end of that battle that he had the thought that had propelled him forward all this time, the same thought that stopped him from ever really accepting his father's decision.

It should have been me.

"Gohan, you're going to be late for school!" His mom's voice called out, cutting across his thoughts.

"Coming!" Gohan shouted back, getting out of bed and readying himself for the day ahead. No doubt it would be a long one, just like the last seven-hundred-plus days had been since his father died. But, if one thing was for certain, it was that, however long the day, no school would actually be involved.

After Goku died, his mother had been a wreck. After the first year, she started trying to put things back together, trying to put on a brave face, especially for Goten, but it was clear that she was struggling to manage on her own. Even so, she had insisted that Gohan try to go on living his life, to try to rediscover what "normal" could mean for someone like him. Normally, his neurotic mother would have planned everything out for him: finding the right school, picking out a perfect backpack, and even planning which college and career he would go into. Instead, she left it all up to him.

"You're a big boy now, sweetie. You saved the whole world, so I think I can trust you with this," that was what she had said. It was all she could do to pack him a lunch at the start of everyday. She never nagged him about homework, didn't press when he refused to give details about his everyday life. Any other teenage boy would have been overjoyed to experience that kind of peace, but not Gohan.

For him, that had been the last straw.

The first had been the reaction he received from his friends. Once the shock died down, everyone became fascinated with his new form- henceforth dubbed Super Saiyan Two. At times, it seemed like everyone wanted to try sparring with him and try their hand against the power that had- nearly- single-handedly beaten Cell. For a while, Gohan obliged them, but he always found it exhausting. Before long, he found himself withdrawing from the Fighters, spending more and more time alone in the secluded forest.

That was where he found himself going now.

Sometimes he just sat in the forest, watching the animals eat and play, listening to the sounds of nature, and feeling the breeze blowing through his hair, thinking about how most people would never fully appreciate just how close all of it came to destruction. Other times, he would go out there to train. Powering up to Super Saiyan- but never Super Saiyan Two- and practicing his skills, destroying a number of training dummies in the process.

In some ways it felt useless; the Earth had been so peaceful that even normal human crimes had become a rarity, but he couldn't stop himself. It always felt like the next big threat was just around the corner. When it came, he had to be ready. This time, he couldn't afford to hold back. Whatever part of him had caused his weakness, had led his father to die, had to be cut out.

Gohan panted for breath, destroying the last training dummy he had on hand and falling to the floor, lying flat on his back. The sun had already gone down, and the clear sky was full of stars. When he was little, his father used to hoist him on his shoulders, flying far beneath the ground and count as many as he could, naming each one. Sometimes they were the real names of the stars, and sometimes they were silly ones he made up, but Gohan always loved it, committing each one to memory. Gohan stared up at the sky, wondering which star he would name after his father.

They were all so beautiful, it almost seemed unfair.

His mother would no doubt be wondering where he was, so he knew he had to return home soon, but instead he just laid there, feeling the touch of unconsciousness pulling at him. Had he eaten anything all day? Had he slept at all the past week?

He turned his chin up slightly, desperately fighting the tears that wanted to rise up through his tired frame. Slowly, Gohan closed his eyes, allowing the urge to sleep to overtake him.

It had been exactly two years since the Cell Games, and, against his better judgement, Gohan hoped he would dream of them again.

It was the only place that he could see his father.