Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unlikely Bond ❯ Telling Tales ( Chapter 19 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or any of the characters! If I did, the anime would never end and GT would have never happened!

Story notes: This takes place ten years after the Buu saga. The only differences I can think of is that the whole thing with the world tournament in the last episode never happened and Goku didn't leave to train Uub. I wouldn't count on anything from the movies being part of this story's time line either, 'cause I haven't seen them all and they usually don't fit into the show's time line anyway. Especially that Broly crap. Vegeta cried through, like, that whole movie! That certainly didn't happen in this story....but, that's a different rant altogether. Hope you enjoy!

PLEASE heed warning in story description!! If you missed it, this story is not for children! It is also not for people who do not like stories that contain elements of violence, strong language, adult situations, references to sex and sexual activity between men and women, and men and other men.


Vegeta pulled a towel from the rack and placed it over his shoulder. The workout with the boy was anything but a workout as Bulma had interrupted them before an hour was up.

“What is it, woman?” he grumbled, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the control panel. Bulma gave a small smile, coming to stand at his side. Before she spoke, she gently ran her hand over his muscular forearm.

“I wanted to ask you about Bulla,” she began. Vegeta narrowed his eyes.

“What about her?”

Bulma shrugged. “I wanted to know if you wanted me to be with you when you talk to her about...about what she asked you at breakfast. I was going to talk to her about it myself, but I didn’t want to presume that you didn’t really want to tell her anything at all.”

“You presumed correctly,” he remarked. “She is a child, she will forget her question within the hour.” Bulma smiled widely now.

“Children never forget the question you don’t want to answer. Need I remind you of when Trunks was four and insisted on knowing why mommy didn’t have a penis?” She giggled to herself at the memory while Vegeta’s expression remained unchanged from annoyance. Bulma sighed when he didn’t respond. “I mean, I fielded that question, but I thought this one you just might want to handle, seeing as it’s so directly personal to you.”

“And the other question wasn’t?” he asked her dryly.

Bulma stared at him a moment.

“Let’s take a bath,” she stated suddenly.

“Why?” She shrugged and took his hand.

“Because I want to. You are a bit sweaty, and I just like to see you wet and naked. Problem?” Vegeta shook his head.

“You are quite vulgar.”

Bulma led her obviously reluctant husband through the house to their bathroom. While the water was running in the tub, she purposefully stripped him, without much resistance. She let her own clothing fall into a heap with his and joined him in the bath, settling behind him and pulling him back to rest against her. She held him for a moment in silence, waiting for the tension in his muscles to give.

Using a sea sponge, she gently ran it over Vegeta’s chest. He sighed, leaning his head back against her shoulder.

“Get on with it, woman,” he spoke.

“What do you mean?” she asked innocently, squeezing the sponge, letting the water pour over his tanned flesh.

“This is one of those irritatingly intimate co-bathing scenarios you construct when you want me to talk. Get on with it. Ask your blasted questions.”

Bulma smirked. Vegeta was smart. She should have known that he would notice; the only time they bathed together without feverishly grinding into one another was when she was trying to get him to emotionally open up to her.

“What are you going to tell Bulla about your parents? Or do you want me to tell her?”

“I will tell her the truth. That I had a mother and father, but they are dead now. I do not see what the complication is.”

Bulma wrapped her arms around him.

“The complication is that you are going to get rebuttal questions, my dear. What did your mama look like? What did your papa look like? How old were you when they died? How did they die?.....That sort of thing. And I’m sorry, Bulla is not going to accept ‘It is none of your concern’ for an answer. It may work with Trunks, but she is too much like her father.”

“Like her mother,” he replied, grumpily. “Besides, I don’t see why you think me incapable of telling the girl the truth. I don’t remember my mother or know how she died. My father looked exactly as I do, and he was murdered. I was eight. End of story.”

Bulma gave a gasp of shock and disbelief.

“You are not going to tell her that!”

“Then I will tell her it is none of her concern. And she will have to learn to accept it.”

Bulma shook her head, returning her attention to washing his arms as she thought.

“What made you knock your glass over this morning?” she asked.

“Clumsiness,” he replied shortly.

“Please. I don’t buy that.”

He sat up and turned to her, a small smirk on his lips.

“It’s none of your concern,” he told her. Bulma smiled.

“Right....so tell me.”

Vegeta turned himself so that he was now kneeling between her legs, facing her.

“It was clumsy of me,” he replied, taking the sponge from her hand and using it finish washing himself. “I’m growing tired of this conversation. If there is nothing else you wish to ask...”

Bulma shrugged, laying her arms casually on the sides of the tub.

“What’s the point of asking when you won’t answer?”

“It has never stopped you before,” he pointed out, standing and rinsing the soap suds off of his legs and stepping out of the water. He dried quickly and walked into the bedroom.

As he dressed, he could hear Bulma draining the water from the tub. She joined him in the room, covered in a large cotton robe.

“Just remember,” she told him, “if you need me to, I will talk to her.”

“I’m not incapable of talking to my daughter,” he replied. “Don’t worry, woman. I will not tell her anything you think is inappropriate.”

Bulma tried to smile at him before he left. She wanted to believe that he could handle this conversation. Hell, she should just be happy that he was interacting with the child. She dressed quickly, in case he did need her intervention and followed him down the hall to Bulla’s room.

Vegeta peered through the doorway, watching the young girl as she sat on the end of her bed applying pink polish to her toe nails. He grimaced and shook his head. If he lived another fifty years, he would still not understand females.

“Bulla,” he spoke, interrupting her work.

“Hi, Papa,” she beamed at him, sticking her foot in his direction and wiggling her toes. “What do you think? Pretty, huh?”

Vegeta didn’t answer, merely nodded and joined her in the room, sitting down on the bench in front of her vanity table. She watched him as she put on the finishing touches and placed her dainty feet into a drying device. He remained silent.

“Did you need something, Papa?” she asked finally.

“No,” he replied, “I was checking on you.” He made a movement to stand again, but her next words stilled him in the act.

“Can you tell me about your mama and papa now?” she asked. Vegeta tried not to scowl and settled back down.

“I can,” he replied. “What do you want to know?” She shrugged, but her eyes were wide in earnest.

“Where are they?” she asked.

Bulma leaned against the wall outside of her daughter’s room. She could hear the breath that Vegeta took before he answered.

“They are no longer living,” he told her. Bulla frowned.

“How come?”

“Because Saiyans are finite beings, just like humans. No one lives forever.” Bulla considered his words before she spoke again.

“What did they die from?”

Vegeta took another deep breath.

“I can’t exactly describe the manner of their passing,” he began. It was a true statement, to himself. He had never been told how his mother died. And his father could have died from the intense heat generated before the explosion, crushed by the castle’s collapse from the explosion, been ripped apart by the very explosion itself. He really didn’t care which it was, as long as it was painful. “I was very young at the time. Just a bit younger than yourself,” he finished.

“What did they look like?”

Upon hearing that question, Vegeta began to wonder if Bulma had not coached the child. But, he realized, they were both silly females.

“I am almost the exact image of my father,” Vegeta told her. “And my mother....” He thought a moment as the words stilled in his throat. Could he really not remember what she looked like? Could he really not recall the sound of her voice? Was there nothing to distinguish her from the many other random beings he encountered in his youth? Was she one of those nameless faces that plagued his dreams?

Bulma peered around the corner at the pause in the conversation. Bulla was sliding off the bed, moving to stand in front of her father. She placed her small hands on his, where they were resting on his knees.

He wished to Kami that Bulma had prepared him for the next question.

“Do you miss them?” Bulla asked quietly, her eyes boring into his.

Vegeta opened his mouth, ready to reply. Ready to rebuff the very idea.

But his own words betrayed him to those deep blue eyes.

“Yes,” he told her.

Bulla wrapped her arms around his neck and climbed onto his lap. Vegeta held her as she hugged him.

“I’m sorry, Papa." Vegeta closed his eyes as she continued. “I would be so sad if you and Mama were gone! I love you!”

“I am not going anywhere,” he assured her in a serious tone. “You needn’t fear.” He picked up the ten-year old and set her back on her feet. "I trust there are no more questions?”

Bulla considered a moment.

“Can I have a dog?”

Vegeta smiled at the child, patting her on the head.

“No,” he replied shortly, turning and leaving the room, ignoring her protesting cries.

Bulma stepped in front of him as he entered the hallway. He grimaced.

“That was really sweet,” she told him, slipping her arms around his waist. He gave a grunt in reply, but said nothing. “I was wrong, Vegeta. You really surprised me with how well you handled that.”

“I would think after all these years you would no longer be surprised at my ability to lie without remorse,” he replied dryly. “You didn’t want me to scare the child. I didn’t.”

Bulma’s face clearly showed concern for what he had just said.

“Vegeta....”

“Bulma,” he replied. “I am going back to the GR now, unless you have a better diversion in mind than a bath or talking.” He raised an eyebrow as he waited for her answer.

“Have fun,” she told him with little humor, pulling her arms from around him. A slight look of irritation crossed his features before he turned and headed downstairs.

Bulma frowned as she watched him leave. Just when she felt as if he were heading in one direction, he veered sharply the opposite way. She sighed, bringing a hand to her forehead. Vegeta and his multiple personality disorder were draining, and quite frankly, she felt she needed a nap.


After acquiring two ice cream cones and a phone number, Goten and Trunks flew back toward Capsule Corp. It was a two-for-one type arrangement in Goten’s favor, as far as he was concerned. He would get to talk to Daikkon and eat lunch without spending the rest of his zeni.

The two boys landed in front of the commercial portion of the compound. Trunks knew better than to try to hide the presence of his ki from his father, but that didn’t mean he wanted to cross his path. Trunks led Goten through the halls of the building, bringing him to his mother’s main lab. As he suspected, Daikkon was within, typing at a computer terminal.

He turned to the door as the boys entered. He smiled warmly at them, nonchalantly cutting the power to the monitor, and it snapped off.

“Good afternoon, your Highness. Mr. Goten.”

Goten grinned at the honorific, but Trunks replied.

“Please, just call me Trunks.”

Daikkon nodded.

“Are you working in the lab today?” he asked.

Trunks shook his head, settling behind his mother’s desk. Goten merely hopped up on edge.

“But we did come to talk,” he told the older Saiyan. Daikkon raised a brow.

“Really?” He turned to Trunks. “My knowledge is at your disposal, young prince.”

“Good,” Goten continued. “”Cause you see, we kind of had a few questions about that botched-up kidnapping mission you and your boys tried to pull off.”

Daikkon tried not to scowl at Goten’s insinuation.

“I can assure you, I was an unwilling participant. I only complied as I knew I was the only one who would treat you with any kindness.”

“He’s not implying that you helped them, Daikkon,” Trunks clarified. “When he said ‘you and your boys’, he was just referring to the Saiyans in general.” Daikkon appeared bewildered.

“I see.”

“So, what was the deal?” Goten continued. “Why try and snatch us?”

Daikkon looked from one to the other. He was unsure if he should even begin to attempt telling them about the General and his plans.

“The k-…prince was quite firm about not speaking any more of Saiyans,” he began. “I am not sure that I am at liberty to share this information with you.”

“That’s crap, and you know it!” Goten snapped. Trunks leaned forward and laid a hand on Goten’s thigh and attempted to reign his anger.

“None of this was Daikkon’s doing, Goten,” he stated. “You know that.” He turned now to the Saiyan. “Daikkon, my father told you not to speak of Saiyans to himself or my sister. He said nothing of me or Goten. Please,” he implored with earnest. “We need to know.”

Daikkon sighed. He supposed it would not hurt to give them the abridged version of the tale.

“You are aware of Prince Frieza and how he destroyed the home planet of the Saiyans?” he asked. Trunks and Goten nodded.

“We know it happened, but the particulars Dad has kept to himself,” Trunks elaborated.

“Well, you see, General Horenz,” he turned to Goten, “he is the one who masterminded the operation. He wanted to comb the universe seeking out the Saiyans that were not on our planet when it happened. The ones who lived on other worlds.” Goten’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Why were there Saiyans living on other worlds?” he asked.

“Well, there were not many that did. Under the rule of King Vegeta, your grandfather, my prince, all Saiyans with below average energy levels were sent to other worlds to protect them from our enemies. My mother was one of them.”

“That was nice...” Trunks commented.

“Yes,” Daikkon continued. “It was a time of great turmoil for the Saiyan people with King Cold and his sons encroaching on planets under the command of Saiyans. “

“This is all very lovely, Daikkon...” Goten sighed. “But this doesn’t explain shit.”

“Forgive me. Horenz gathered these Saiyans, who were all very enraged over the injustice done our people and our planet. He rallied them to band together, to give new life to the Saiyan empire and to work together to see it rise once again.”

“So they needed my father?” Trunks asked.

Before Daikkon could speak, Goten cut in.

“No, they wanted Bulla,” he stated. “They took her first, Uncle Vegeta came to rescue us....”

Daikkon nodded his head sadly.

“Yes, they could tell by the princess’s energy that she was Saiyan.”

“What were they going to do with her?!” Goten demanded.

“I will not speak to you as though you are children on this matter.” Daikkon spoke boldly. “They were hoping that Miss Bulla would be able to produce a royal heir. A new monarch for the Saiyans to come together under.”

“Mother fuckers!” Goten shouted, again being stilled by his friend.

“But didn’t they know my father was still alive?” Trunks asked. “I mean, they had to know that he was if they knew Bulla was royalty.”

“They were aware,” Daikkon told him. “...This is not easy for me to tell you, sire...”

“Go ahead,” Trunks prompted.

“...Prince Vegeta is looked upon as a traitor by those Saiyans under Horenz’s command. He served in Frieza’s army as one of his highest ranking soldiers.”

Trunks looked incredibly saddened by this news. Goten started up again.

“So, what, since they had him and were blocking his ki they just thought they could beat the shit out of him for a couple days to make up for it? Well, I don’t buy that shit. When I was growing up, Uncle Vegeta looked after me and my brother when our dad was in Otherworld. And what the fuck did my father ever do to those Saiyans, huh? What the hell did they do to him?! That’s what we want to know Daikkon. We don’t give a shit about the Saiyan soap opera update!”

Daikkon stared down at his clasped hands for a moment.

“It was obvious to Horenz that Goku’s loyalty lay with the prince. That is the only thing that he ever did against them.” He looked back up to the two teenagers. “As for their trials, all that I can tell you is that they were under extreme duress and feared for the lives of you and Princess Bulla.”

“Feared for our lives?” Goten repeated. “Why? We sat in a room for four days with crap food and an open concept bathroom. What the hell was going to happen?” Trunks added after Goten was through speaking.

“What were they told was going to happen?”

Daikkon and Trunks stared at one another a moment, but the older of the two did not speak.

“Mother fuckers!” Goten exclaimed again. “Were our dads afraid for our lives because those bastards said they would kill us? What the fuck is that all about? What was the idea behind that?!” Trunks’ curiosity was also peaked.

“What could be the reasoning behind such an act? Simply to punish my father? Or to motivate him? What did they want?”

Daikkon stood from his chair.

“I’m sorry, my lord.” He frowned. “I will speak no more to you on this matter. I humbly apologize.”

“You’re clamming up because we’re on to something here, aren’t we?” Goten asked. Daikkon’s face was still.

“I will take my leave of you now, my lord. Young master Goten...”

Goten felt like giving him the finger as he walked away, but he knew that his anger at the other Saiyan was misplaced. Daikkon had helped them.

He turned to his friend and watched the lavender-haired boy for a moment as he thought.

“That explains why Dad is nicer to Bulla,” Trunks finally spoke.

“Yeah....bitches....”

Trunks shook his head, not knowing whether to be aghast or amused by Goten’s behavior and language.

“I’m going to go get us some lunch from the cafeteria,” Trunks told him, standing. “What do you want?”

“Two of whatever you’re having.” Goten grinned. Trunks smiled and left his friend lounging on the desk.

Goten looked around the lab. He was always amazed when he was in here and remembered just exactly how smart Bulma and Trunks were. Bits of machinery lay on the tables, and those without actual equipment were strewn with blue prints and sketches.

Idly, he slid off the desk and walked over the smaller table where Daikkon had been working earlier. He looked nosily through the papers on the desk. One sheet had a crude drawing of the ki inhibitor that was removed from his neck the day after he came home. Another was a graph charting days and months.

Goten looked over his shoulder before turning to the computer and snapping the monitor back to life. With a roll of the mouse, the screen saver disengaged and the screen lit up.

It was a text document. Goten took hold of the mouse and scrolled up, the rows of letters flying past in a blur. He halted the motion when he hit on a graphic in the middle of the page. His eyes roamed over the colored illustration of what looked like internal organs. They were labelled with some words he recognized, such as abdomen, bladder and intestines. And of course there were the external male reproductive organs he was very familiar with. However, there were several terms - hell, several parts - that he was not familiar with at all. Noted in parentheses under the strange words were what Goten could only guess were the equivalent human terms. The words ‘Macogestular Sac’ (Uterus) were at the end of a line pointing to what appeared to be a deflated balloon between the pubic bone and the bladder. Connected to this organ was a tube, the ‘Tomect duct’ (fallopean tube), that branched off between two other organs: the ‘Tomectani’ (ovary) and the rectum. Goten grimaced at the drawing, scrolling down and picking a passage to read.

Based on the fourteen day cycle of the adult male, the tome, or egg, is released at one and a half times faster rate than the adult female. The tome will rest in the macogestum, or uterus, ten days awaiting fertilization. If fertilization does not occur during this time, the cells are reabsorbed into the wall of the organ, converting back to ki energy and thus not producing a cyclical menstrual period as seen in the female. If fertilization does occur, it can take only four days for implantation, releasing hormones into the system to halt the production and release of further tome into the ducts. Once the tome is fertilized and implanted into the macogestum, the developing embryo gestates within the Saiyan male for approximately forty to forty three weeks.

Goten stared in disbelief at what he had just read. He blinked and reread the line ‘the developing embryo gestates with the Saiyan male’. He felt his stomach leap up into his chest at the thought. Guy Saiyans could get pregnant!?

He snapped off the monitor and turned around, wishing he had not read it in the first place. What the hell did this mean? What should he do now? What exactly happened to his father and Vegeta?

“I got us roast beef on rye,” Trunks announced as he came back into the lab. “I hope you don’t mind.” Goten stared at him a moment. Trunks frowned. “They had turkey and swiss, if you want that. I can go back.”

Goten didn’t know whether or not to tell Trunks about what he had just stumbled upon. He knew in his heart that he should, but he didn’t feel like sharing at this moment. He didn’t even want to acknowledge to himself what he had just read.

“Goten?”

“I’m sorry, Trunks,” he said quickly, getting to his feet. “I gotta go. I don’t want my parents to worry and....and I really want to check on my dad.”

Trunks watched in confusion as his friend passed him and headed for the exit of the building. Goten was apparently very upset about the situation, and he couldn’t blame him. He just hoped he would be alright.


Goten flew directly home from Capsule Corp. He could sense the presence of his brother and sister-in-law in his home, as well as his niece Pan. He dropped down in front of their small house, taking a deep breath to check his emotions before walking inside.

Gohan and Videl were indeed inside, sitting in the living room drinking tea with his mother. His father was there also, having a friendly game of arm wrestling with Pan.

“Stop playing around, Grandpa!” she shouted, setting his arm back into position. “You are losing on purpose!”

“You’re just too strong for me, Pan,” he laughed jovially in reply. “I must be losing my touch.”

Pan grimaced and scrunched her face up in annoyance.

“This is just like arm wresting with Grandpa Hercule,” she grumped. “Now be serious or I don’t wanna play.”

Goku tried to sober his expression.

“Okay, okay. I’m ready.”

Pan smiled and pushed up her sleeves, grasping her grandfather’s hand in her own. Pulling together all of her strength, she braced herself.

“Ready...” she spoke through gritted teeth. Goku nodded.

“Yep.”

“.......GO!”
< br> It was at that moment that Goku noticed his youngest son standing in the room, staring at him. He smiled at the boy, his attention leaving the girl pulling against his arm.

“Hi, son!” he greeted. “You’re home early.” Goten nodded, his lips pressed together in a fine line. Goku’s brow furrowed. “You okay?”

Pan was on her knees now, leaning her body weight into the immovable strength of Goku’s arm. Goten nodded slowly in answer, not knowing what he would say if he opened his mouth.

“Sweetheart, you look pale,” Chi Chi observed, standing and moving to his side. She lay a hand on his forehead.

“I’m fine, Mom.” He finally managed to find his voice. “I just flew too fast, that’s all.” Goku was concerned with the tone in his voice. He stood to go to him.

“Whoa!” Pan squealed as she was pulled into the air. Goku paused and looked down at the child hanging from his arm. “That’s more like it!” she stated. Goku smiled, setting her down and went over to Goten.

“Where did you fly from?” he asked.

Goten frowned as he looked at his father. His stomach still felt as though it were pressing uncomfortably against his lungs.

“Capsule Corp,” he replied.

“What were you doing there?” Chi Chi asked him. “You said you were staying in the city.”

“I know...but we decided to go back to his place...for lunch. I wasn’t there long before I thought maybe I should just come back home.”

“So you haven’t eaten?” Chi Chi asked. Goten shook his head. “Well, you are just in time then. I have a chicken and vegetables in the oven. It will be done shortly.” Chi Chi turned into the kitchen, and Goku moved into the spot she vacated at the teen’s side.

“You okay?” he asked again. Goten nodded, numbly, staring at this father.

Goten’s mind was in such a haze. What was the meaning of the document Daikkon was writing? Could it be true that Saiyan men had the ability to....to become pregnant? Is that what was so distressing to his father and Vegeta? That they might actually have...girl parts?

“Son.” Goku spoke again, gently nudging Goten’s shoulder. Goten smiled.

“I’m fine, Dad! Just hungry. No energy.” Goku smiled back, but he was not sure whether or not he believed him. There was something in the teen’s eyes that was contradicting his happy exterior.

“Grandpa, let’s wrestle some more!” Pan interrupted the two, earning an admonishment from Gohan that was ignored.

Goten took that opportunity to pass through the room and head up to his own. He dropped onto his bed, letting out a loud exhale of breath. The sun was streaming in through his bedroom window so he pulled the pillow over his face, and tried to still his mind.

After a few minutes, the pillow was gently pulled from his arms. Goten blinked and looked up at his father.

“Hey, kid,” Goku said, sitting on the side of the bed. “What’s really wrong?”

Goten tried to think up a quick lie, but could only lamely repeat:

“Nothing.”

“I may not be a brain scientist,” Goku told him. “But I think I can tell when there is something bothering my child.”

Goten broke into a genuine smile at his father’s words.

“It’s nothing, Dad,” he tried to reassure him, adding: “Its...uh...girl trouble.”

“Oh.” Goku’s eyes widened. “I see.” He was quiet a moment before asking. “What’s the trouble?”

“I got no girl.” Goten replied with a straight face, causing Goku to chuckle loudly. Goten enjoyed the sound. It was real, unlike the fake, uncomfortable laughter of the last several days.

“Don’t worry about finding a girl,” Goku told him. “They’ll find you.” He ruffled Goten’s hair as he stood. “Don’t worry.”

Goten’s smile faded when his father left the room. Maybe everything was going to be okay. Even if Daikkon’s paper was correct, what did it matter? He couldn’t blame his father for being freaked out by the idea; it gave him the creeps, too. But the Saiyans were gone. Soon everything would fade and return to normal, with the exception of knowing Daikkon. They would all forget about this ordeal and move on with their lives.

Goku sighed as he shut the door, leaning against it. He was grateful that Goten had stopped asking him if he was okay. Keeping up appearances was almost as exhausting as dealing with the problem itself. And he hated lying to his son, but the simple truth of the matter was, he just didn’t need to know.

Goku turned back down the hall and was stopped at the top of the staircase by Gohan.

“Is he okay?” he asked his father, peering around him at the youngest Son’s door.

“Yeah,” he grinned. “He says it’s ‘girl trouble’.”

Gohan smirked.

“What’s the trouble?” he asked “Too many girls?”

Goku laughed at the remark.

“Something like that.” Gohan nodded as their mirth died down.

“So...” Gohan began again, stopping Goku before he could continue down the stairs. “How are you doing, Dad? Mom mentioned the day before that you were having trouble sleeping?”

Goku froze for a moment.

“Um...actually...yeah.” He sighed, but smiled at his firstborn. “I was. You know, they used this drug on us, and I’m not too sure it is all out of my system yet.”

That wasn’t a lie, was it? It was plausible. And it made himself feel better to say. That very well could be the reason...

“That’s not good, Dad.” Gohan frowned. “Maybe you should see a doctor?”

“No no no,” Goku insisted. “I’m fine! Nothing a little rest and good food won’t cure.”

Gohan stared at him a moment, considering his father’s words. Certainly if there were something bothering him, he would talk, right? But both his father and Goten acting strangely, that was just too much of a coincidence.

“Dad,” he began again, his eyes looking deep into Goku’s. “I want you to know, if there is anything that you need, I’m here for you.”

Goku smiled, giving his son a playful punch in the arm.

“It’s my job to be there for you. I’m the dad, remember?”

“Dad, I’m serious...” Gohan reiterated. Goku took a deep breath and took hold of Gohan’s arms, looking into his face.

“If there is anything I need you for, son, I will most certainly ask.” Goku raised his eye brows, asking with his eyes if the younger understood. Gohan nodded.

“Okay.”

“Good.” Goku clapped him on the back and directed him down the stairs. “Now, the only thing I need right now is lunch...”


A/N: I would like to thank everyone that is reading this fic. I would also like to thank my beta reader, Rowina, for making it twice as good to read. Hope you all like this chapter, although I have the overwhelming fear that I am posting the beta editing version and that it is littered with notes and correction...I am a little obsessive compulsive. Enjoy!!!!!! - B°