Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Retaliation; the Trouble Inside ❯ Cooperation ( Chapter 14 )

 

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, which Akira Toriyama created. In addition, I don't own Dragon Ball GT. Toei Animation Co. Ltd. Shuisha Bird Studios license both. This is fan fiction, meaning no harm to the anime or manga.

 

Retaliation

By Trynia Merin

Cooperation

 

 

***

Gohan wondered why he had not done this sooner. Resting his hands on his gi clad thighs; he felt the texture of the cloth given to him by the kais years ago. Once unfamiliar garments now moved silently and flawlessly with every move. Ironically, he had chosen their appearance to resemble the likeness of his father's costume, except for the Son patch on the back. Equally incongruous was the fact that he had started his life as a warrior in clothes with the same colors. Under Piccolo's Mazuko clan, he trained to defend earth. Now he had come full circle out of a retirement filled with books and academics, more of his mother's prodding.

 

Forever caught between the dilemma of scholar and fighter, Gohan wrestled with his true nature every day. Normally he thought of his Saiyan identity as something of a polar opposite to his humanity. Yet he realized they were enmeshed in ways he hardly dared fathom. He was not half Saiyan, he was simply Saiyan. Moreover, he was Human. In the same way, his father called himself an Earthling and a Saiyan. On the other hand, a Saiyan from earth when he had introduced himself to Recoom on Namek so many years ago. While there was no denying what he was, he had chosen different identities for himself that often set himself at odds. Why was there the constant need for two identities instead of one, Gohan wondered?

 

"I don't know," Goten answered for him, snapping Gohan out of his meditative state. Annoyed, Gohan glared at his brother overtop the glasses.

 

"You're trying to read my mind again. It really gets annoying Goten," Gohan mumbled.

 

"You're broadcasting damn loud enough for everyone to hear who can sense ki. Remember you were the one who told me about how Piccolo taught you to send your thoughts?"

 

"Piccolo, and Dad," Gohan answered.

 

"Mom told me years ago you sent your thoughts to her, before you went to fight Vegeta, back when he wanted to conquer or blow earth sky high, remember?" Goten reminded him. His hair was growing back out of the short-cropped look he had sported for so long, rather preferring his earlier look. Like always, he did not want to emulate Gohan, and was wrestling to find his own identity. If it fell in the arms of his on and off girlfriend Valise, or in the unexpected presence of Bra.

 

"That would be the day," Gohan mumbled. Vegeta would never go for it, and their mother had just come around to like Valise as a prospective wife. Yet he realized he was hiding his thoughts from useful revelations contemplating his brother's love life.

 

"So are we going to fight or what?" Goten asked him, slowly untangling his legs from their crossed position. He rose to his feet, rolling his joints to crack out the tension and stillness.

 

"We fight of course. Sparring like we haven't done in ages," Gohan announced, though from the way Goten rolled his eyes he knew he was again stating the obvious.

 

"We're getting soft. That's what Vegeta said. If I hadn't been chasing skirts and you chasing books I might have believed Pan…"

 

"You're right. However, we are both to blame. I didn't listen to my own daughter either, you know," Gohan cut him off. "If you're blaming yourself, blame me."

 

"Gohan, let's drop it. We both fucked up big-time," Goten snorted, dropping into a stance that was more chaotic and less rehearsed then that of his big brother. Gohan's precision duplication of one of Piccolo's stances had not escaped his notice. Had Gohan forgotten his instincts for so long that he had to revert to Piccolo's training?

 

"It's good enough for Piccolo, its good enough for me, Goten. I'll show you a few things he taught me. The Namek could take any of us any day," Gohan laughed. So saying, his fist flashed out towards Goten's face.

 

Automatically his brother phased out, then landed a kick against Gohan's raised wrist. He chortled, "Is that a fact? Cause you've buried your nose in the damn books for so long I think I can beat your ass in five minutes flat!"

 

Seeing the competitive gleam in Goten's eyes, Gohan realized he had missed his brother's zeal for sparring for so long. Goten spent most of his time training with Trunks, Pan or his grandfather when available. He often even hit a few rounds with Vegeta from time to time if Trunks was unavailable.

 

"Bring it on, Goten. You might have turned Super Saiyan earlier then me, but there's something to be said for training instead of just raw talent," Gohan taunted, pelting him with a series of punches. Goten answered with a volley of kicks and then the two flew apart to a greater distance panting.

 

"This is nothing, Gohan. Stop jerking me around and let's skip the beginner stuff! You're stuck in a time warp! I'm not seven anymore, not that you'd notice!"

 

"Then stop fighting with your mouth and use your HEAD!" Gohan shouted, phasing out and appearing behind his brother. He cracked his elbow in the back of Goten's noggin with a resound thwack jerking his brother's head sharply to the side. Reeling, the younger Saiyan shot backwards. His brain seemed to rattle in his skull for a second before he could cross his wrists to block Gohan's kick.

 

Dropping down, Goten swept his brother's legs out from under him. Gohan flipped backwards and suddenly levitated, gaining distance. Taking the precious moments, Goten then threw back his hands and began to cup them together at his hip. Simultaneously Gohan did the same gesture, both of them soaring to a distance greater then fifty yards.

 

"Give me a break," Gohan whispered. "You think I'm going to fall for that?"

 

"KA.. Me... Ha…" his younger brother gritted, blue energies gathering between his curled hands.

 

Suddenly Gohan's arms whipped up from his hip towards his shoulders. Crossing both palms before his head he shouted, "Masenko… HAHHHH!"

 

"Me HA…What the hell…" Goten stammered out, unleashing his beam an instant after the sizzling beam emanated from his brother's forehead. Gohan's brow knitted, his eyes shifting into the look of a warrior, not a reclusive academic. Just like a car, he had switched gears from one part of his life to the other. Why Gohan felt the need to compartmentalize his life so, Goten found himself asking while trying to push his blast against that of his brother.

 

Two cascades of energy pushed against each other as relentless as the surging tide. Sweat blistered on the respective heads of two brothers who had held off testing each other for far too long. Could they recoup wasted years in a matter of hours with the fate of their world on the line?

****

Lifeless, two figures lay curled on the floor of the Gravity Room. A father and a son slowly stirred and drew in long rasping breaths. First to move was the spiky haired Saiyan, rolling out of his crouch and opening his eyes. Slowly he climbed to his feet, his dark eyes blinking in the gloom of the torches still alit. Raising his gloved hands he looked down at them, and then down to the boy curled there.

 

"My son, I'll be long gone before you awaken," whispered Vegeta, his face set serious. "It has only begun. But the choice has been made."

 

"F… father," whispered Trunks as he groaned and stirred. Yet Vegeta quickly retreated into the shadows, only looking back once as he rushed to the exit of the GR chamber.

 

"You won't see me again, till we must fight," he mouthed, fumbling with the control that opened the door. Frustrated, he finally raised his hand and aimed a ki blast to blow it open. It creaked protestingly outward, allowing the Prince to step through it. Energy surged around his body as he glanced at the hallway around him.

 

"I've no time for this," he cursed, in Saiyan, raising his arms and surging his aura. Suddenly the ceiling disintegrated around him. Then he blasted off through the melted fabric of metal and plastic, punching the rest of the way through into the evening sky. The loud rumble of the collapsing ceiling and roof echoed in the GR chamber, shaking the entire complex.

 

Trunks snapped awake, his muscles jolting. Blue eyes snapped open and he cursed, "Damn it! Shit!"

 

Within seconds he crossed the floor of the chamber, knocking over torches in his haste to exit. Blue energy blazed at skin depth as he raced through the hallways towards Capsule's labs. Set into a firm frown, his brow twisted with concern for the disintegrating integrity of the hallways. Whatever had happened the holes in the ceiling and support struts had compromised the building and it was seconds from tumbling into rubble.

***

Deep inside Capsule's labs, Bulma Briefs heard the alarms blazing. She glanced up to see her workers running back and forth to evacuate. As she shouted orders she failed to see the blue comet punch through the far wall heading straight for her. Air whooshed out of her when Trunks swept out his arm and hooked it around her waist. Masonry and rubble tumbled, hissing into dust when it hit the protective aura of her son raising its dome around whoever was still left inside.

 

Finally the floor stopped quaking, and the open sky peeked through the ruined ceiling. Tendrils of blue hair flared around Bulma's head, dusted with the ruins around them. Steel girders were twisted with bits of floor, along with broken glassware and the confused faces of Capsule employees cowering under lab benches.

 

When Bulma blinked up at her son, he stood trembling, hugging her tightly. Angrily she shouted, "What the HELL happened Trunks! Where's your father? He's got a lot of explaining to do!"

 

"Woman, it's far worse then you think," Trunks voice echoed. Bulma gasped in horror as he released her, and she heard a familiar undertone deepening the words.

 

"What the hell did you say?" Bulma snapped.

 

"Bulma, you need to stay the hell out of the way. Take Bra, and get to a safe place. Don't come after me. That's an order!" Trunks shouted, his posture suspiciously familiar.

 

Panic pounded Bulma's heart as she gaped at her son. Unfamiliar words echoed from his lips, and her instincts screamed something horrible had happened. He looked like Trunks and sounded like Trunks, but it wasn't her son. Or was it? Shakily she cried, "Bulma? Since WHEN did you call me that? Aren't I your mother or are I?"

 

"He's in here, Bulma," said Trunks softly. "There's no time for these stupid questions. I demand that you listen to me because I will only explain once!"

 

Whatever blush colored Bulma's pale skin now vanished, leaving her alabaster pale and white like a ghost. Her blue eyes widened, lost and vulnerable, as she pressed the knuckles of one hand to her bared teeth. She backed away from him as fast as she could, almost stumbling over a piece of ruined lab counter. For a moment half her son's face was bathed in shadow, and she could swear she saw an angry black gleam and the shadow of a spiky haired figure swept behind him.

 

"V… Vegeta!" Bulma gasped.

 

"It was the only way, Bulma," he answered, through Trunks lips. "Now he's taken my body and my powers. I only pray that I have the strength to stop his madness…"

 

"What have you done to TRUNKS!" Bulma screamed, throwing herself at him with her fingernails bared. Gently Trunks caught her wrists in his hands and held her away from him.

 

"Mom, I'm still here," he said, his face taking on the form and his voice snapping back to the tone of her son's. "It was the only way… please… you have to believe…."

 

"Trunks… what's going on?"

 

"I'm sorry mother. Please…" whispered Trunks plaintively. Then the expression hardened and he glanced down at Bulma with sharp intensity.

 

"No…" she trailed off.

 

"He's here too, Bulma. He wouldn't leave me, the fool. I'm very proud of him. Don't try to come after us. I must face him alone. And Kakkarot must NOT interfere. There's no telling what he'll do in my body," the voice of Vegeta uttered from Trunks lips.

 

Bulma's red lips quivered, and she croaked, "Vegeta… how can you do this?"

 

"Bulma, There's no time to explain," Vegeta's voice whispered. "If I'm to face this, I must go now. Please…"

 

"Bring our son back, you bastard," Bulma stammered, throwing herself into his arms. He kissed the top of her head and held her close. Then he released her, stiffly pushing her away with only enough force to separate them.

 

"Goodbye Bulma," Vegeta through Trunks said. Tears blurred her vision as she watched his energy flair, and he dwindled to a small blue dot on the horizon.