Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Retaliation; the Trouble Inside ❯ Gohan's Responsibility ( Chapter 19 )

Trouble Inside

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon ball Z or GT. Z was created by Akira Toriyama, and both are owned by Toei animation Co, Shuisha Bird studios. This is fan fiction, and I make no money from writing this story.

My apologies to all for taking so long for this update!

 

While Gohan, Uub and Pan interceded to stop Vegeta and Trunks fight, Goten and Bra were engaged in another battle. However it was not one of a physical nature, but rather one of a hormonal sort. Consumed with nursing Goten's wounds, Bra had broken out the contents of a medical capsule. Inside the small house she had Goten strapped to a medical bed. All manner of bandages and plasti-skin sprays were arranged on a table while she fussed over cutting his clothes off with scissors. Her body was covered in a white lab coat, while her hair was tied back in a rather unflattering clip.

Somehow she had fantasized at having Goten at her mercy, but not quite under these circumstances. Now that the fantasy had become reality she couldn't help but be distracted. Unrequited feelings were surging forwards with a vengeance. While her and Goten had horsed around without her father knowing, neither had gone further than touching through clothing. There was no use in inciting her father's wrath should he catch them together.

Now alone with him, she felt the tingling urges in her body that would no longer be denied. His dark eyes constantly watched her; though his face was bruised and battered it was still handsome. Electricity and the scent of musk tingled her nostrils and Bra shivered.

“Bra,” whispered Goten as he glanced up at her. Blue eyes the color of sapphires fixed down into his trustingly. She moved to bandage his wounds, smoothing his dark hair aside.

“You look like hell,” Bra wrinkled her nose, leaning close so her blue hair brushed his cheek.

“You're just saying that to make me feel better,” Goten coughed. Suddenly blood dribbled out of his mouth, and Bra yelped in fear.

“Dende! Goten, stop it!” she cried, grasping him. His blood splattered on her red top and she shivered in horror to see his handsome face so bruised and swollen. Worried she grasped a cloth and held it to his mouth to catch the dribbles of crimson liquid.

“Bra…” he coughed. She steadied his torso then felt his head lean into his shoulder. His arms twisted around her and hugged her tightly.

“Goten, relax,” she urged. His back stopped heaving in and out, and his breaths rasped through his teeth.

“It hurts to breathe,” he whispered.

“Just stop, relax,” she urged, stroking his back. Goten's body felt limp against her and she panicked as she felt his ki ebbing. Long ago her father had taught her the basics of ki manipulation, enough so she could shoot blasts to protect herself and levitate out of danger if Vegeta or her brother could not protect her. Now this selfsame ability allowed her to tune into Goten's flagging energies.

“Bra, my head's spinning,” Goten murmured.

“Shut up! You just lie down and be still!” Bra scolded, releasing him and pushing him down. No longer protesting, Goten lay still with a small smile on his lips.

“Did anyone tell you how sexy you look when you're mad?” he winked.

“Don't you dare try those moves on me buster,” she wagged a finger at him. Cutting his shirt with scissors she tugged bandages over his bruised ribs before spraying them with a hardening adhesive.

“Sit up,” she ordered. He did so, leaning against her body as she wound the bandages around him. Then she felt his head pressing into her breast and saw the smirk on his face.

“You pervert!” she screamed as she pushed away from him. Her hand rose up and then came down to slap him.

Goten neatly caught her wrist, with a small smile. “Ah ah, temper, temper,” he shushed.

“What… what's going on?” Bra asked as she felt his ki suddenly sparkling back to healthy levels.

“You forget us demi saiyans can heal stronger than before,” he waggled his other finger. “Shame that father never taught you!”

“But I'm more human than Saiyan, like my brother trunks is,” Bra exclaimed. “You and Gohan are more Saiyan than human.”

“Not so. Just because you lack the hair coloring of a saiyan means nothing,” whispered Goten, twisting her wrist and pulling her towards the bed. She fell against his chest and he bound her in his arms. Surprised Bra allowed him to hold her close so her breasts were squashed to his pecs. After all she could defend herself against a mere third class with what her father had taught her. And if Goten tried anything she could knee him HARD in his saiyanhood.

“You wouldn't dare try this if you weren't half hurting, Goten,” Bra smirked, realizing too that he couldn't hurt her even if he was less injured then he appeared to be. Especially with broken ribs and bruises and contusions that still needed time to heal.

“Try what, Princess?” Goten whispered, his lips migrating to her neck.

“That…” Bra gasped as Goten flipped them over so she was beneath him. His legs straddled her hips and she looked mischievously up at him. She loved that hungry feral gleam in his eyes that seemed unfamiliar, and hoped that a man would show in his eyes for her. Like Gohan when he looked at Videl, or her father did when looking at Mother.

“I've waited a long time for this,” whispered Goten as his lips descended. Bra felt the warmth of his touch brush her shapely mouth, and then pull back.

“My father won't take kindly to this, you know,” Bra whispered back up at him. She played with the buttons on his shirt.

“Your father wants me to protect you, remember? And that means keeping you CLOSE,” Goten winked.

“How close?” Bra whispered.

“Let me show you,” Goten purred. Soon their clothes mingled in a pile on the floor. His hands wandered up and down her creamy curves. She simultaneously explored his muscular body, gorgeous and handsome. Tongues slid past one another in the heated caverns of their merged mouths. His hands gently squeezed at her perfect breasts once they were freed from the confines of her bra that fell over a chair. Bra reached up and guided Goten down into her when they were both bare as the day they were born…

***

Somewhere in the vast dome of Capsule, three critically injured saiyans were being tended to. The best medical care that this planet could offer was being bestowed on them by Bulma's staff of workers. Now milling around the medical equipment rescued from a long dead society they toiled to fill the machines with the right amounts of life restoring plasma and other liquids.

So still and serenely did Vegeta and Trunks bob up and down in the buoying blue fluid of the regeneration tanks. Sadly Bulma glanced up at her son and husband in the hospital zone of Capsule, her hands poised on the RT controls. Nearby were assembled Gohan, still wearing his gi from the Supreme Kai, along with Uub and Pan. Across from them in another RT drifted Goku, his body stripped off all clothing save the minimum of a pair of briefs. Frantically sitting on a couch, chichi wrung her hands while Videl sat down next to her and hugged her shoulder.

“What the hell happened?” Chichi shouted. “Gohan! What's wrong!”

“That's what I'm trying to find out, Mom,” Gohan said as he strode over and sat on his mother's other side. One of his arms was lashed in a sling, forcing Gohan to rely only upon his right, and it drove him nuts. A half tormented look filled his face, contorted with anger and frustration that seemed to make him look far older.

“This is horrible! It's all because of that awful husband of yours fighting so much!” Chichi glared at Bulma.

“Mom please,” Videl urged.

“It's not what you think,” Bulma sighed pressing her hand to her head. She was weary enough without having to listen to Chichi's tirades on top of everything else.

“Don't patronize me! I know all about that rite of Lineage!” Chichi snapped. Everyone snapped their heads around in surprise.

“You do, but how?” asked Bulma in a whisper. Her normally alabaster skin grew ghostly pale to the hue of a sheet of typing paper. Dizzy, she sank into one of the armchairs.

“Goku told me,” Chichi said, her hands quaking in the comforting ones of Videl. Gohan rested his arm around his mother's shaking shoulders.

“He did, Mom? How much do you know?” Gohan asked. He wrestled the knowledge of the rite that Raditz had burned into his brain. At first Raditz had partitioned things from his nephew's perception, but Gohan had so easily lulled the malevolent Saiyan into thinking he was easily controlled. Then in a last minute turning of the tables, Gohan had triumphed over Raditz' spirit. Now he could easily access the knowledge of a long dead ritual.

“Enough to know that it's some damn Saiyan ritual that is hurting my husband, sons and family!” Chichi answered Gohan.

“Chichi, that's harsh,” Videl shushed her.

“Just because it's saiyan doesn't make it evil!” Bulma snapped back at Goku's wife.

“That civilization should stay dead and buried. It was destroyed for a reason!” chichi protested.

“Mom, that's enough,” Gohan said firmly.

“Gohan, why are you defending it? It's only brought misery and pain!” Chichi snapped at him.

“That saiyan blood makes me what I am, and gave me the power to defeat Cell, remember?” Gohan said quietly, his dark eyes looking towards his mother's. Hearing her son's words, Chichi's eyes widened in horror before squeezing shut. She raised her hand to her face, wiping away tears that dripped down her cheeks.

“How can I forget that horrible time?” she whispered.

“Gohan, she knows,” Videl softly reminded him, her blue eyes filled with concern.

“I'm sorry Mother, but we must know more about these rituals, so we can better protect ourselves,” Gohan sighed, reaching over with his right hand to caress his mom's cheek.

“But Gohan… look at you… it almost killed you as well as my Goten! Why isn't he here?”

“He was too injured to move as it was,” Gohan admitted slowly. “But he should be resting comfortably now.”

“Gohan, just look at you,” Chichi sniffled, removing her hands from her eyes to stare at him through her tears. Her fingers gently brushed aside scorched pieces of hair, and fingered the scar he now bore over his left eye.

“It will grow back,” Gohan sighed. “Mom, don't fuss over me. Look, everything will be all right. Just trust me.”

“You always have before,” Videl said.

“Grandma, he's right,” said Pan. “Sorry to change the subject, but Dad… will they be all right?”

“I hate to interrupt,” Bulma coughed. She wearily regarded the Son family clustered together.

“Yes, Bulma?” Gohan asked.

“Physically they are all badly injured, but should heal within a day,” Bulma said. “At least in these tanks they can complete their ritual without the need to keep killing one another.”

“Does that mean when they wake up… Vegeta and Trunks will be back where they need to be?” Pan asked.

“I don't know,” Gohan said slowly. “But I think that the only way to find out is to complete the process.”

“What process? Killing each other?” Chichi snorted.

“No. Sorting out whatever unfinished business the spirits came back to sort out,” Gohan answered.

“They didn't kill one another. That wasn't the point of this at all,” Bulma shook her head. “Vegeta and Trunks never meant to do that. It was all combat till they were interrupted. And that gave me long enough to finish my invention once I knew what had happened.”

“If you knew then why didn't you do it before this?” Chichi glared at Bulma.

“I may be a genius but I don't know EVERYTHING!” Bulma retorted.

“Mom, Bulma please calm down,” Gohan urged, raising his uninjured hand. “We just have to wait it out at this point.”

“For how long?” Uub suddenly asked, rubbing his chin.

“Good question,” Videl nodded.

“However long it takes,” chichi shook her head bitterly.

“Gohan, what DID happen to you?” Uub asked, glancing at him carefully. “I see another presence…”

“No, you can't mean that…” Pan squirmed in her seat, but Uub reached out to grasp her hand and hold it in place.

“He's there, inside of me,” Gohan answered firmly.

“Who… what are you talking about?” Videl trailed off, as Chichi backed away in horror.

“Gohan… no… don't tell me…” she stammered.

“Who's here, daddy? What's going on?” Pan huffed.

“There was another spirit that tried to possess me, Pan. But I didn't let it win. I made it THINK it won, and then… when it least suspected, the trap was sprung,” Gohan explained patiently, his dark eyes flickering back and forth to all of them. Since returning from the fight he had not bothered to change or put on his glasses. That same intensity he possessed just after the Majin Buu affair now had returned. The air was charged with an unreality, centering on the Saiyan.

“The spirit is there, but it's dormant,” said Uub. “Gohan's holding it in submission. There's no way it can escape.”

“Why not get RID of it!” Chichi snapped.

“I can't. Not till he's learned his lesson, Mom,” Gohan said.

“Who?” Pan gritted.

“Raditz,” said Gohan with a sad shake of his head.

“You mean that awful brother of Goku's?” Bulma shuddered in horror. “Gohan!”

“Don't tell me that horrible beast is inside you, Gohan! What are you thinking?” Chichi despaired.

“Daddy, no!” Pan wailed.

“No, it's not like you think,” Gohan said, as he stood up quickly. Slowly he paced around the room, and then stopped with his back turned.

“Then what is it, Gohan?” Videl asked, slowly standing up and striding over to him. Chichi wrung her hands tightly. Seeing her in such distress, Pan got up and sat down next to her grandmother to offer her support. She could tell her parents needed one another more now.

“Trunks isn't the only one who's been ignoring his duty,” Gohan answered.

“What do you mean, Gohan?” Bulma asked, straightening up in her chair.

“We must both answer for the decisions of our fathers, Bulma,” Gohan answered, turning around. Videl moved over and threw her arms around him, suddenly wanting to hold tightly to her husband as if he would evaporate. The Gohan she had fallen in love with was there, but a submerged side o him was now painfully apparent, and it terrified her. His uninjured arm wrapped around her securely, and squeezed her to his side.

“What are you talking about, Gohan?” Chichi asked.

“Let him continue,” Videl urged.

“Trunks is the son of a Saiyan Prince. The spirit of King Vegeta inhabited his body to serve some unfinished business. Similarly Raditz inhabited my body, to settle an old score with Dad. That's the whole reason for Lineage. Raditz used my body and powers to avenge himself on Dad. When he thought he had won, then he had little reason to remain. For a similar reason King Vegeta came back to this world through Trunks, then through his own son Vegeta,” Gohan explained. At the sound of his words the inhabitants of the room shivered with horror.

“Why is this your problem Gohan?” Videl wondered.

“Dad, what does this have to do with you? You're talking like you are responsible!” Pan asked.

“He is, and so am I,” Uub answered. “That's why isn't it? That's why you can see them too, just like me.”

“That's right,” Gohan nodded quietly. “When I trained in the planet of the kais, I learned many things. Including tapping into my mystical abilities. There were sides to my power that I had only just then realized. Part of that was dealing with spirits and the order of the universe.”

“You're not Dende, Gohan,” Bulma sighed exasperated.

“No, but I did receive a Kai's training to master my abilities,” Gohan shook his head. “And now I have to use those skills to put right what was wrong.”

“But why you, Gohan? Haven't you done enough?” Chichi demanded.

“Because I accepted the responsibility. I didn't ask to be a half saiyan Mother. But I am and I can't deny or hide it. No matter what it's always there. Trunks realized this too, and now he's paying the price of not coming to terms with his past. Now I am too,” Gohan solemnly confessed. Videl held him tighter, burying her face in his shirt as she felt hot tears in her eyes.

“I don't understand how that horrible Raditz got into you, my Gohan!” Chichi lamented.

“That's just it mom,” Gohan said, staring at her in wonder. “That's the reason why I'm involved.”

“What does this mean, Dad?” Pan dared to ask, squeezing her grandmother's hands.

“Uub, I'll need your help. You could see the energies because the spirits were brought here by energy like yours,” said Gohan.

“Brought here?” Bulma blinked. “But Vegeta said lineage meant for the sprits to pass into the Saiyan astral plane…”

“That awful Raditz was in hell! How could he get into you, Gohan?” Chichi asked, he eyes popping open. “Answer me that! He was supposed to be trapped there for eternity!”

“Because someone made a deal with a sorcerer in Hell. And somehow magic was used that should not have been and the way was opened,” said Gohan sternly.

“My energy… you mean a majin?” asked Uub, eyes wide.

“But they were all killed!” Chichi despaired.

“There must have been someone in hell that did this. Remember how they brought android 17 back,” Gohan shuddered.

“Ugh,” Videl shivered, feeling Gohan's strong arm securely around her.

“You want my help to find out who, right, Gohan? And how?” Uub asked, blinking up at the mystic super Saiyan.

“Why not ask Dende for help?” Videl brightened up.

“That's exactly what I'm planning to do next. And you're coming with me, Uub,” said Gohan. Swallowing hard, Uub nodded knowingly. The others looked on in a mixture of confusion and fear, worried for what role Gohan insisted on playing. Emotions varied from one end of the spectrum to the other. Videl gazed up with a feeling of hope and trust at Gohan. Chichi continued to sniffle, burying her face into Pan's shoulder while her granddaughter comforted her with soothing strokes on her back. Bulma continued to wring her hands, shaking her head and glancing back between the tanks that held her son, husband, and the man who was like her brother. All felt the collective resolve and anticipation of a solution that they hoped would soon remedy this confused state of affairs.