Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Growing Pains ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

A/N:
 
You have to thank Kyla Eide for this story because she asked me to write a fanfiction about C18. As I have never read #18-fanfics before, you have to forgive me for using any clichés because I don't know what the clichés are. I have been told that all the circuitry and the chips of #18 are pretty much standard, but as this kind of behavior is quite essential to my #18, I did not change it. Anyways, enjoy it!
 
 
Chapter 1
 
He was smirking viciously at the figure prone in front of him. Never had he felt so full of energy, power waiting to burst forth into the body of the monster he had come to kill. Now the monster wouldn't be able to hurt anybody anymore; the damage he had dealt to it made sure of that. “Not as high and mighty anymore, are you?” he taunted. An angry, painful hiss answered, making the smirk drop from his face. “What? You haven't had enough yet?”
 
Raising a hand, he gathered a tiny dot of heavily concentrated ki on his index finger. Pointing towards the figure, he shot a beam as broad as a hair's width at it, gradually sizzling a neat, penny-sized hole into its arm as he was slowly forcing his ki into the green flesh. The hissing increased, the figure writhing from pain until he stopped the energy. The tissue around the injury had been charred black, leaving a painful taste of what he was able to do. But no, he was not finished, not by far. The monster had caused him too much pain to let it get away now. It would pay for all it had done to him and to his family.
 
A few calculated hits to the chest of the monster broke several ribs, but he knew that the monster's healing abilities could easily mend those injuries within seconds, so he broke them once again. Some time later, he grew tired of playing with his enemy like that and he gathered a considerable amount of ki in his hands, planning on incinerating the hated form. Suddenly, a devilish idea sprang from his mind and he stopped the glowing sphere from doing more harm than burning the figure severely. It would be much more cruel if he let the monster live. Crouching low next to the figure, he whispered hatefully into its ear. “Never ever dare to cross me or my family again. The next time, you are dead before you can count to three. Now run as fast as you can.”
 
Smirking, Gohan watched Cell stagger away slowly. For some time, he was content with relishing in the painful movements, but then his anger rose once again. With an absent-minded gesture, he threw a hand-full of ki-blasts after the figure and gleefully admired the fireworks he had made of the insect.
 
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Shuddering, Gohan woke up. That evil cackle he had just been laughing in the dream was still fresh on his lips and in his ears, and the anger and the hate that had been rolling around inside him were not forgotten yet. Taking a few calming breaths, he closed his eyes to force all those terrible feelings away. It wasn't the first time he'd had dreams like that, but they had become more and more frequent the past few weeks. He realized that he was gradually starting to carry all those negative emotions into his waking hours as well, but so far, he'd only let them out while training in the woods, and one time with Piccolo. However; it was getting harder and harder not to snap at everybody, especially when the anger he had forcibly locked a way in the morning had found a reason to rise and pound behind his eyes, demanding from him to do something.
 
“Gohan! Breakfast!” resounded a voice from downstairs, breaking him out of his light meditation. Ah, that was what had woken him, the aroma of steaming food wafting through the house. Immediately, he felt better, and his mouth watered in anticipation of a grand breakfast. Nothing could make a Saiyan happy as fast as the thought of eating. And, according to Vegeta, the thought of a good fight, but immediately forced his mind back to the food.
 
“Coming,” he called, and like all Saiyans, he didn't waste any time hurrying into the kitchen where his mother was already waiting with a scowl on her face. Uh, oh, what had he done wrong now?
 
“Gohan, how often do I have to tell you that you shouldn't shout when your brother is still sleeping!”
 
Oh, yeah, right, as if she hadn't just hollered herself so loud that the birds a mile away could have heard it. He didn't know what made him think that sarcastically, and with a last-ditch-effort, he tried to make his instinctive retort that had almost slipped his mouth less scathing. “Only if you tone it down, too!” Ok, scratch that, now he was in for an ear-full.
 
Shocked, Chichi looked at her son. Never had he mouthed back to her in that manner; although after Goku's death, he had become increasingly rebellious. But she hoped that it was one of those phases all growing boys go through. Nonetheless, those teenage antics had better be corrected as soon as possible. “You listen here now, Mister. This is no way to talk to your mother! You know as well as I do that Goten's sleeping upstairs in the room right next to you, so you shouting will wake him up a lot sooner than my shouting!”
 
“Yeah, right, with my Saiyan ears, I go practically deaf every time you start your screeching.”
 
A gasp slipped over Chichi's lips at Gohan's attitude. That was inexcusable. How had she not noticed that her son harbored such a foul mouth? This was a behavior more fitting for that uneducated, violence-prone, Saiyan dork of a prince. How Bulma could stand that arrogant, over-confident jerk was beyond her. And now her Gohan was obviously imitating that man? She didn't think so. “You are grounded! No training for the next two weeks, and next time, think about it before talking to me in that voice!”
 
“You can't do that,” shouted Gohan indignantly.
 
“Oh yes, I can. And if you keep that up, it will be a lot more than just two weeks!”
 
He was visibly angry now, and she could feel his power thrumming through the room. Never before had he been that disobedient, talking back to her with words that were only a step away from the gutter-language that Saiyan prince apparently preferred. She should have never let him go fight that menace Cell; her sweet baby had changed so much, and all were bad changes. He had become ill-tempered, his manners had practically vanished, and he was disrespectful towards his own mother, and she didn't hesitate in telling him so. No apology came; he was only standing there rigid, fists clenched at his sides. Crossing her arms in front of her, she impatiently tapped a foot on the floor, scalding his ungrateful offspring with a scathing glare.
 
He was looking everywhere but her, and she could see the muscles in his jaw working as he gritted his teeth. He seemed to get angrier by the second, and slowly, his ki was responding. She could feel his power growing, rising in ways she had never felt before. Strange prickles were dancing over her skin, as if she was standing right next to a charged coil that operated on high voltage. Ok, now the fun was over. Frowning, she hissed: “If you don't power down immediately, there will be no breakfast before you go to your room to study.”
 
Apparently that had been the wrong thing to say, because all of a sudden, his hair burst into golden flames, and his eyes turned a vacant green. With all the static crackling in the room, she felt the fine hairs all over her body stand up, and the air was almost humming with electricity. The days before the Cell games, she had seen him constantly in that state, but it had almost been as if he had just dyed his hair and had worn contacts. Now however, she felt for the first time the unimaginable power that this transformation allowed her little boy, and for the first time, she was almost scared. It was a force that could not be contained within this room, shaking the windows, rattling the door with his mere presence.
 
Was this the power that her Goku had had, too? She had known that they all were ridiculously strong; hell, Goku had already been stronger than her when they had married, and back then, he had had the strength of an ant compared to the powers assembled on the planet today. But she had never before felt their kis to that extent, so much that it beat viciously against her skin, smothering her spirit beneath its sparking, rolling waves of sheer power. Looking into her boy's eyes, sudden knowledge seeped into her every pore. If Gohan wanted to, he could crush her with no more exertion than she used for swatting a fly, and at the moment, he was very close to loosing control. A small thought stole itself into her brain: What had become of her little, innocent boy?
 
Then, the menace vanished out of his stance, and he looked almost afraid. Not saying a word, he swiveled around and burst out of the door faster than her eyes could perceive. Quickly recovering and gathering her wits around her, she hurried after him out side and shouted into the dawning sky: “Come back here right now! GOHAN!”, but probably, he was too far away already. Shaking her head, she went inside again. After he had some time to cool off, he would come home again, and then they would have to talk. Seriously talk.
 
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Heart pounding in his chest, Gohan fled his home as fast as possible. What had he almost done? He had been ready to threaten his Mom as if she were an enemy just because she had told him not to shout so loud. Yes, he had been angry, he didn't know why, but that was no excuse. Somebody with his power also held responsibility, and he couldn't go around threatening everybody just because they said something he didn't like or because he was plain angry. But he'd never had such a problem controlling his emotions before, so why now? Could it be part of his Saiyan heritage?
 
No matter what, he would have to talk to Vegeta soon because there was nobody who could really measure up to Gohan's strength in his normal SSJ-form, and if he was angry enough to ascend to the second level, there would be nobody left to stop him. Well, Vegeta had the best chance of trying as he was the strongest after him, and Vegeta would perhaps also have an explanation for his unexpected mood swings and the anger that had been a constant during the last few weeks and months.
 
Sighing, Gohan turned towards the second most powerful ki-force on the planet and headed into its direction. Of course, Vegeta was training again, no news there. And he would be quite angry if somebody disturbed him, but that couldn't be helped. There never was a good time for visiting the prince whose people consisted of no more than two halfbreeds and himself.
 
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„No idea. “
 
Gohan sputtered. At first, he had been forced to spar with Vegeta for most of the day to even make him consider giving out some information, and then, there was none. B-but, Vegeta, you're a Saiyan! You have to know what's wrong with me!”
 
Slamming a fist into the wall of the gravity room, Vegeta vented some anger. “That's just it! If you were a Saiyan I'd know, but you are not one! It is a miracle that you were born at all, that you have no deformities and that you've been able to lead a normal life so far! You know what percentage of the Saiyan genome is identical to the human one? 90%, when those monkeys on this mudball are to 98% identical, and what do you think an earthling mating with an ape would produce? A fully functional human? A fully functional monkey?”
 
Shocked, Gohan stared at Vegeta and the anger that was visible pouring off him in brilliantly red ki-waves. How did Vegeta know so much about genetics and the animal population of this planet? Hurt, Gohan shot back. “Then what about Trunks and Goten? Are you saying you deliberately let them be born although you knew better, huh?”
 
Vegeta closed his eyes, gritting his teeth, a look of intense pain flashing over his face. No, if he had known, he would never have… But Kakkarot's spawn had been born a long time before he had even heard of this pathetic excuse for a planet, and the brat had seemed to be more of a Saiyan than his sorry father, which didn't mean very much. Only during the last few months after Cell had he felt some strange vibes coming from the boy, and he had asked his mate to look for the reason. Of course, the woman had used that opportunity to humiliate him, taunting him about the Saiyan prince having to turn to a lowly earthling for information, but as much as he loathed it, it was his duty to care for his people. Even if there were only 3 left, and none of them full Saiya-jin. Finally, he spat out: “That's what that blasted woman told me, two weeks ago. Do you think that I want my heir to be genetically defective?”
 
Oh, so that was that arrogant prince's answer? That he regretted having fathered Trunks? Still hurt, angry with Vegeta and the world in general, Gohan blasted off with the words: “Great help, thank you very much. I just hope and pray that you don't tell that to your son when he asks.”
 
A spurt of energy brought Gohan far away from West City and Capsule Corps within seconds, into some uninhabited area covered by meadows and woods as far as the eye could reach. There, he let himself drift on the clouds, staring into the sky, trying to suppress the tears that were rising in his eyes. It was scary to be all alone, nobody knowing what was wrong with him. He had those strange moments when anger rose in his throat gradually until it almost strangled him, and Piccolo had told him that he had even tried to attack his mentor once. Just a few hours ago, he had almost blown up the house with his mother in there. He could still see the look of fear etched onto her face, a thing he never wanted to see again. His mother, usually fearless to a fault, almost cowering behind the sofa, staring at him like a rabbit ensnared by the snake.
 
“Go away.”
 
Startled, Gohan looked around. Where had that voice come from when he didn't feel anybody in close vicinity? Stretching his senses to their limits, he finally spotted the origin of the voice. No wonder he hadn't sensed anything. Warily, he floated deeper, looking at the android woman lying on her back in the grass, staring sightlessly up into the sky. Not quite in a battle-stance, he was nonetheless ready to react should she make any threatening moves. He touched down next to her, looking silently at her spread form that still hadn't moved.
 
“I said go away.”
 
She still didn't look at him, pointedly ignoring him, but her words hadn't sounded that cold. There was no malice, no anger behind her voice, more like resignation. Why had she spoken at all if she didn't want him to be here? He would have never seen her if she had kept quiet, and he could not sense any life-force within her. Perhaps that was her roundabout way of asking for conversation. When no other words or actions came forth though, he slowly let go of his guard and flopped down onto the grass a little ways off. Together, they silently stared into the sky, watching the sun turning redder as it sunk to meet the horizon, each thinking their own thoughts.
 
After the red sky had slowly faded into a purple blue, Gohan voiced the question that had been bothering him ever since he had seen her lying in the field. “Why are you here?”
 
For a long time, there came no response, but just when his expectations had died, her voice broke the silence. “Am I alive?”
 
Frowning, he wondered about what had brought those thoughts on. “Of course you are.”
 
“Even when I am just a robot?”
 
The question had slipped her mouth before she could stop it, and now she was waiting. Her logic circuits told her that the question was negligible, that it was not important, but some part of her that she associated with the few bits of flesh and blood incorporated into her machine body thought it was crucial. The machine part hungered for fulfilling her programming. The order to kill all Saiyans beat at her senses from all directions, urging her to get up and engage the boy in a fight. She ignored the voice though, trying to anticipate the boy's actions. However, the young Saiya-jin didn't say anything, and only his presence that was picked up by her sensors told her that he was still there. Perhaps he didn't want to talk.
 
“You were human once.” His voice startled her. The probability of obtaining an answer to her question after 2546.3 seconds had passed was negligibly small, but it was not nonexistent. She should have incorporated his inclination for long silences into her calculations.
 
“Not anymore.”, she uttered monotonously, speaking nothing but the truth. After what Dr. Gero had changed within her and her brother, she could hardly call herself human anymore; no human had metal infused into their bones, their nervous system exchanged for circuitry, and several chips monitoring their functions. The boy didn't let it rest though. “But you are no robot either.”
 
“Why?”, she asked, her curiosity, or at least the curiosity her chips simulated, piqued.
 
He was silent once again, but she could hear him fidget on the grass, some uncontrolled movement of body-parts caused by uncomfortable situations. “Because … you were programmed to destroy all Saiyans, weren't you? What is keeping you from acting on those orders? Only I and perhaps Vegeta now that he has trained are strong enough to keep you away, and even me you could take out by surprising me in my sleep when my ki is low.”
 
For the first time, she looked at the boy lying in the grass a few feet away. Her eyes easily compensated for the relative lack of light, another feature Gero had gifted her with. The boy was staring into the darkening sky as if he found something there that was immensely interesting, but following his gaze, she didn't see anything. Why had he told her that? Logic was completely against revealing any weaknesses to somebody wanting to kill him. Didn't he know how her chips were screaming at her to get up and finish his life?
 
Forcing her eyes away from him, she ground out. “You should go now. Doesn't your mother expect you at home?”
 
Caused by something that her logic circuits couldn't comprehend, the boy started making strange sounds, his eyes leaking some clear fluid that her keen receptors immediately identified as a special derivate of sweat, an isotonic saline solution that was produced by two glands at the outer edge of the upper eyelid. What had caused that reaction? She couldn't quite pin it down, but some remnants of her human life - or a few bytes in her extensive data bank - were hinting strongly at that being a way of expressing emotional upheaval, which sounded much more credible than a foreign body flying into his eyes at exactly that moment.
 
Whispering that was nearly inaudible even to her finely tuned hearing that was almost on par with Saiyan hearing reached through the night. “I … I almost … I almost killed her today …”
 
She raised an eyebrow, not comprehending the logic behind it. “Me and my brother almost killed your group of fighters, too, but I did not perceive any hints that you or baldy were afraid of me on that floating palace.”
 
“B-b-but… that's different,” sputtered the boy, “you were … “ He trailed off.
 
“I was what?”
 
Shaking his head, he was looking for words. When he apparently didn't find them, he sighed deeply. “Nothing. Forget that I said anything. You are right, I should go home. Nice to have met you again.”
 
She watched as he rose to his feet and took off into the air. Her circuits screamed at her to go after him, or at least fire a parting blast after him, but she didn't do anything, not even unfolding her arms from behind her head as she watched him vanish into the sky until her enhanced eyesight couldn't distinguish his form from the blackening background anymore.
 
The slowly dropping temperatures of the night didn't faze her; her metal body didn't know hypothermia. She didn't move as the stars appeared and the moon wandered across the sky, reviewing her memories of their encounter today. It had given her chips more information about the demi-Saiyan, but somehow, it had also touched the part of her that was flesh and blood. Their conversation had gone far beyond the simple `Hear and obey my orders or else'-conversations she had had with her creator, and she had to suppress a shudder. Robots were not allowed to feel cold.
 
A/N: Please review! It's always nice to receive an honest opinion!