Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Where do I belong? ❯ Chapter 18 ( Chapter 18 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball/Z/GT, its characters, nor anything in it; nor do I own any other licensed product/item that may appear throughout this fan fiction piece.

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Chapter 18

Sitting by the light of the fire, Gohan's eyes penetrated the flames, searching. The past few weeks had been full of tears and talks. He had slowly regained his sister's trust, spending countless hours just holding her shaking form as she cried out the pain and sorrow of the events that had rocked their world. She had shed her hard exterior, revealing all of her thoughts and beliefs since the attack.

Her underlying fears, a product of Sen's words, that Gohan would try something. The nightmares that haunted her sleep, consumed with malicious emerald eyes. Her fears of being anything close to naked around him or even alone. The abject terror she had going into the woods alone to search for him. And so much more.

She had been broken, her spirit cracked. He had listened to her words, held her close, and dried her tears, slowly mending her soul and their trust. No longer did she flinch from his touch, but pull him closer. They were no longer what or who they were. That would be impossible. No, they were stronger, closer, and possessed an even tighter bond then they had before.

Yet, from all of her fear, something sparked a new within her. A determination so strong, nothing could push it back. To fight, to train, to never be defenseless again.

Yet, all of this time was spent on Cassandra, helping her find her way out of her broken shell. Gohan was still the one to awaken from nightmares, unsure of anything in his life. He had known what had happened to Cass, as well as the vengeance he had wreaked. His dreams were plagued with the events and the harsh words that had marked his soul like a whip, with wounds that would never fully heal. They would always be there, a reminder that even your loved one can hurt you, damage you so much. They were there, etched deep, along with all of the other things that had happened in his life. And he knew that they would always ache, always bleed, and always be there to haunt him. But all of his pain, his hurt, his torment was pushed back, deep into a dark corner of his mind that was steadily growing everyday. A bit of boiling rage, sorrow, and hurt . . . All locked away in hopes that it would never take control again.

Then, with Cassandra's speech of how she had found him those nights ago, a shadowy figure standing above his nude form with his tail in hand, Gohan was unsure of the truth. He had no memory of what had occurred only slight thoughts of destruction and glimpses of the world through red. Cassandra's mind had immediately jumped to rape and even Gohan couldn't deny the possibility. The situation she had arrived on . . . But Gohan believe it was untrue. He had no aches, no pains, no marks, nothing. Deep down, he remembered feeling safe. As if a great calm had been brought. But he was at a loss to who it had been.

That feeling, that utter belief that hurt would not come again to his body or soul, an untouchable warm sensation of the measure of safety had felt. It was something he had not felt since he was a child, when he used to see the world in such a well seeming light. But that world had been shattered, replaced with years of fear, hatred, and suffering. The things he hid from those he loved, not ever wanting to burden them with his feelings.

Reaching out, allowing the flames to caresses his skin, Gohan knew that he would always search to find that figure, to feel safe again.

~*~

Shimmering ebony orbs watched from the shadows of the trees that surrounded the two teen's campsite. Sharp eyes concentrated on the trouble figure beside the fire, bathed in a glow of reds and yellows. The figure had taken it as a duty to watch over the boy, knowing that the power he possessed would never be understood by the humans.

Even to this war hardened warrior, the boy was unusual. It wasn't his physical attributes or his strength like any other observer would find. Instead, it was in the boy's attitude. Whenever the girl had been around him, a smile had remained on his face, his voice never raising, always appearing happy and confident, reassuring the girl no matter what. But when her back was turned, when she wasn't there, shadows swallowed his obsidian orbs; pain echoed in the boys empty eyes. In fits of anger the child would fling ki blasts at the mountains, reeking destruction and exerting his built up anger.

But at night, when the moon was high, its lunar beams dancing across his sleeping form, he was able to see past the façade of happiness, through the anger and rage, straight to the scared child he was at heart. For so many nights now, he had woken the child from his terror induced nightmares. The demi-Saiyan never cried out, only began to thrash in his sleep, occasionally a whimper escaping his lips. Unable to understand the child's fears, he waited for sleep to settle over the boy. Tonight, he would read the boy's dreams to understand just what it was that caused him to choke back his own cries to the night.

He had observed the two for so long now, he had watched as the young man held the girl when she cried and reassured her, placing up that façade for her. He had viewed them as they fought, the boy not using a tenth of his strength as the girl took out her frustrations in battle. He had critiqued their style, their abilities, and strength, watching them grow. Yet, he had missed out on everything before his time; their pains were a mystery to them.

His dark eyes narrowed as the child lay down on his pallet beside the fire. The dark haired demi-Saiyan curled up on his side, his dark eyes continuing to stare into the dancing flames of the fire. A pale hand extended, pulling a dark blanket over him, partially clutching the soft material by his face. Pale eyelids slowly slid over the child's impossibly dark eyes as he was lulled into sleep.

Creeping into camp, the silently took his place beside the man-child. He quickly extended his senses, taking in the ki of the girl, verifying the fact that she was asleep. He knew that he could not check the ki of the boy; instead, he merely watched his chest rise and fall in perfect rhythm. It was perhaps the first time the man had ever seen the child up close, allowed to truly observe and study him.

The child was so much like his father, his black spiky hair and wide innocent eyes. But his soft face was a reminder of his mother's royal heritage. The golden brown tail, the only true physical link to the boy's ancestry, was worn loosely around his waist now that the previous injury had healed. The fire's light flickered, reflecting off the metal tags that hung from the boy's neck. The woman who had made them was an obvious genius, enabling it to not only hide the boy's energy, but to increase and decrease in size. The woman had seen the growth capabilities the ape form could bring, along with the desire for his ability to wear them as he grew; the material was designed to allow growth. It was much like the Saiyan armor in this respect. But those tags the boy wore religiously . . . the man knew just what they were . . . his name, the only true link to his past and possible future engraved . . . Gohan. A faint trace of a smile appeared on the silent man's face as he gazed at that name.

Clawed fingers reached out, hovering over the boy's forehead. With a last glance at his face, his course voice whispered into the wind. "So . . . the old man was right after all . . . You are alive . . . Gohan . . ." With that, the mysterious watcher plunged into a world of darkness.

~*~

Laughter danced through the wind as two children romped through the meadow. The bright light of the sun beat down on the water of the nearby stream. Underneath a large oak, a blonde haired woman with eyes of midnight blue sat with a black haired man, whose eyes could rival the green of the fresh spring grass that surrounded them. The two adults stared out at the plains, watching two black haired children run about with brightly colored kites that soared through the bright blue sky.

The small girl, dressed in a pale blue sundress, ran through the field, her dark blue eyes sparkling with mischief as she called out to the boy. The small boy's long ebony locks hung about his face, leaving them in shadows. A soft wind blew, brushing the strands of hair from the child's face, revealing dancing obsidian eyes, the dominating feature upon his cherub like face.

The unacknowledged guest merely stayed to the shadows, not doing anything to alert the dreamer of his presence. Instead, he watched as the child followed the girl, his happy cries blending with the girls in perfect harmony. Dark eyes watched as the two adults called the children back to their blanket. A perfect family on a perfect picnic on a perfect day. It was a picture perfect event . . .

Dark shadows rolled into the field as the clouds obstructed the light of the sun. A chilling wind swept through the area as darkening clouds rolled into the sky. The small boy stood abruptly, backing away from his family, his words cutting through the sound of the wind that whipped through the meadow.

"No . . . please . . . no . . . not again . . . please . . ."

That small cry was lost on the boy's quivering lips as he stared in horror as the three people he held dearest to his heart slowly faded. The world went dark, the sound of thunder rolled through the sky as lightening flashed. Wind began to circle around the child who morphed and grew from his five year old self into the preteen he was at the time.

Rain joined with the tears that fell down the boy's face as he stared at the place where his family had formerly been, his shoulders drooping as if he carried the weight of the world upon them. His head dropped down, his mournful whispers barely audible above the volume of the storm that raged within the dreamscape. "I'm all alone . . . again . . ."

Screams pierced through the darkened world, their frantic cries rolled over the meadow like thunder. Haunted obsidian eyes stared out across the field, lost in a sea of memories as the noise of the storm and the screams joined together.

"Please . . . Gohan, help me . . ." A soft female child's voice whispered in the passing wind.

"Don't you want her? Go ahead, take her and ravish her."

A girl's voice joined in with the wind, her jubilant words dancing with the rain. "I flew? I flew!"

"Boy, whacha gonna do?" A menacing growl sounded, echoing through the field.

"Do you trust me Cass?" The boys own voice asked.

"There is no reason, no answer to your questions boy. It is not a matter of why I did what I did, but a question of how." A silky voice called.

"He was an abomination, a worthless freak, a pathetic excuse for a human being and not worth calling a son." A woman said calmly, her voice full of hate.

"Of course I do." A gentle girl replied.

"Whacha gonna do boy?"

"Brother? No. That is what you are not. You are something my parents decided to take in, some freak that we can't get rid of."

"Are you my mommy?" An innocent voice asked. The voice of an angel replied. "No, I'm not. But I wish I was."

A dark voice penetrated, his whispering words desiring vengeance. "He's dead. For the good of the world, he is dead. In mind, body, and soul. And if he's not . . . I will make sure he dies. . ."

"Well, son, are you ready?" A kind masculine voice questioned.

"You are not my brother and never will be. You are nothing to me; never was and never will be." The girl's voice screamed intent on inflicting more pain to the boy's already wounded soul.

"I'll be fine mom."

Those final words, "I'll be fine" echoed through the silent field as the storm dissipated from the dreamscape, leaving the boy curled up in the darkness, his tears forming their own salty puddles beside his quivering form.

"But I'm not . . . I'm not fine at all. I just want to go home. I want to be held, I want my mother, I want my father. I just want to be safe and happy again. I just want this nightmare to be over." Tears poured from his ebony eyes as his whispers penetrated the darkness. "I just want to go home . . . I want to forget everything and be with you mommy . . . please . . . don't leave me . . ."

With those words spoken, the boy whose eyes spoke of wisdom beyond his years broke down into sobs, caught in a self induced world of pain and regret. The figure that had stood there, watching the child cry and release his sorrow upon his dream world slowly made his way to the boys shaking form. With every word that had penetrated the darkness, every foreign voice that had spoken in the wind of the storm, he had seen the image that had come with it.

He had seen it all, now knowing just what the boy had gone through. He had seen his sister raped, the boy's fury when he turned Super Saiyan for the first time, the love and trust he had with his foster family, the haunting dreams of a distorted version of Goku and Chi-Chi, the pain, the sorrow . . . everything that was so deeply etched into the boys soul. He had seen it all. And he understood . . . more than ever, he just understood.

Draped in shadows, he kneeled down beside the boy, setting his hands upon his frail shoulders. The child jolted, jerking from the intruder's touch, backing away from him. His voice, so full of fear masked by a quickly rectified wall of strength, cut through the darkness. "Who are you and w-what do you want?"

Ignoring the child's questions, the figure settled down upon the dark floor beside the boy. Instead, he gazed out into the vast pit of impenetrable darkness. Closing his eyes, he vanquished the black shadows. Suddenly, the two prone forms were floating in their sitting position beside a large waterfall. The melodious sound of birds flitted about the new dreamscape

Caught in the shock and surprise over the change in scenery, Gohan plummeted from his mid air perch, dropping into the water below them. Dragging himself out of the water, he stood there, looking at the new arrival skeptically. "Are you going to even bother answering me or are you just going to sit there and annoy me?"

One eye opened, sending an annoyed glance at the child before closing them once more. Huffing, Gohan easily lifted himself through the air of his dream and took position beside the intruder. Obsidian orbs gazed about, taking in the lush surroundings of trees, water and distant mountains. Quietly, he spoke to he stoic visitor beside him. "Thank you . . . you got rid of the darkness . . ."

Dark eyes hesitantly looked up through silken ebony locks to study the newcomer. In many ways, the figure was much like him, a black haired boy with deep obsidian eyes. But looking deeper, Gohan could see age old wisdom and hidden truths in the ebony eyes of the youth. Unlike Gohan, whose tanned flesh possessed scars to tell stories from; his skin was sheer porcelain, no scars or blemishes to show upon his pale flesh.

As his eyes trailed up the mysterious boy's body, his stare caressing his face, two pairs of obsidian eyes locked. Quietly, Gohan spoke, his eyes never breaking their stare. "Who are you?"

Instead of answering the question, the boy merely tilted his head to the side. "Are you a fighter?" He asked in a deep voice, drastically out of place with the boy's physical image.

"Yup!" Gohan said with a smile. "My dad's my trainer . . . well, until I beat him. Now I'm on my own. I'm teaching my sister too. And all of my dad's family does martial arts. What about you?"

The boy merely stared at him with his penetrating ebony orbs.

Uncomfortable with the silence that had fallen between the two boys, Gohan began to fidget as he floated in midair. His long golden brown tail released its hold around his waist, falling free, allowing the tip to twitch back and forth as an outlet to his bottled emotions. Unable to stand the silence any more, plagued by his natural curiosities, Gohan began to stare at the boy. His stare continued, pushing through the control for mediation the other boy displayed.

Irritated by Gohan's antics, the mysterious child's dark eyes narrowed at the dreamer. "What do you want?"

"Well, since you won't tell me your name or anything about you, can you tell me how you got rid of the voices and the dark?" Haunted eyes looked upon the intruder, pain, curiosity, longing, and a small bit of hope glimmered in Gohan's bottomless eyes.

A smirk played upon the boy's face as he looked up. Gohan watched as the boy morphed into a brown haired, fully grown male and then into a wrinkled old woman before returning to his childish form. Ignoring the drop jaw expression of the tailed boy, he spoke. "What you see is just a projection Gohan. I'm using my telepathic abilities to transmorph your dream world into a better atmosphere."

"So you're not just something in my dream?" He asked questioningly. At the boy's nod, he thought upon the information given. "So, what? You just decide to go hoping into other people dreams?" Dark eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What gives you that right? You shouldn't be here . . . this is my mind . . ." A soft growl escaped the child's lips as energy began to crackle around him. "Get Out."

Taken aback, the child stared at the boy who was beginning to glow with golden light. "Calm down, kid. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to help you." Gaining a guarded look from Gohan, he calmly continued. "You have a lot of power, but you don't know how to control it. You have a decent technique, but nothing those baka humans teach you will be enough. You have a destiny . . . a great future. And you'll need to be ready to accept it. I can help you. I can prepare you for it. But only if you will let me. Every night I will come to you, teach you, and train you. Then you must spend your days training in the technique I leave you with. And when its time, I will come for you, and it will be the true test of you and your abilities."

Curiosity gleamed in the child's eyes as he regarded the floating boy. "What are you talking about? My destiny. How would you know what is to come anyways? It's not like your Kami-sama or anything."

Amusement danced within the glittering ebony orbs of the child at the statement. "No, I don't know the future, but I do know the past. The future is always a repeat of the past. We learn from the past, and mold ourselves off what it is that we learn from the past. And if I'm right, there are evils that you could never comprehend to come to this world. Earth will need your strength and abilities. And I am the only one who can help you."

A soft sign escaped the child's lips. Thoughts rampaged through his mind, causing a shadow to fall upon the morphed dream world. He had fought just the usual horrors of the world that he lived in, and failed each time. He may have defeated the common evils of life, but it had always ended in a cost far more than he would have ever believed. He had let down his family so many times, each and every one of those failures haunting him every night. But could he battle on the side of the Good and help someone for once? Could he actually help rather than hurt those that he loved.

`Well, there is only one way to find out. And with this guy, I can learn how to help rather than hurt. I won't let them down anymore. I will succeed and make my family proud.' Looking up, a fire of determination brewing within his dark eyes, he responded. "I will help you."

With that, the two figures regarded each other as student and master. Without any forewarning, the nameless boy attacked Gohan, beginning the first training session of many to come. For the remainder of the night, the two figures blurred about the dream world, training for threats that would one day haunt the world they inhabited.

As streams of consciousness broke up their dream weaved world, Gohan turned to his partner. "Tomorrow night?" he questioned.

"Tomorrow."

As the child's figure began to fade, Gohan called out once more. "Sensei, will you give me your name now?"

A smirk played upon the boy's face as he turned to Gohan, his form barely visible, his voice barely audible. As he faded, morning upon them and wakefulness setting in on Gohan's subconscious, his rich baritone voice called to the child left alone in his own mind with a simple whisper, leaving him with the name of his new sensei.

With that, Gohan awoke, missing the warmth of safety he had felt with the child in his dreams. The blanket of protection that he had weaved. It was something Gohan hadn't realized he had until he had lost it. A smile graced his lips as he stood, stretching out his limbs. His night had left him with a number of new maneuvers, attacks, and combos to try out . . . and some just weren't going to be nice to use on his sister.

Smirking, he slowly charged up an energy beam, releasing it at one of the surrounding trees. The orange and purple energy of the corkscrew attack shredded the tree. Glancing back and forth between his hand and the decimated landscape, he couldn't help but gape in shock. He now knew just what he had gained by taking upon his dream master.

Turning around at the gasp that had echoed through the campsite, his ebony orbs were met with wide sapphire ones. Staring at her brother, she spoke. "Wicked." At his nod, she managed to choke out a question to his new talent. "Who taught you how to do that?"

A dazed look appeared in Gohan's bottomless eyes as he stared at the destruction he had caused with one single blast. "Just a kid I know . . . Just a kid named Piccolo."

~*~

There. I almost left you without the name. I had such a hard time deciding whether or not to include it here. But the clues were just so blatant in this chapter, I had to go ahead and tell you. And for those who have yet to clue in . . . well, let's just say that the time so many people have been asking about is coming up. About five chapters I think. Something like that. You'll see . . .

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SNEAK PEEK:

He hating the feeling as if Piccolo held the final link to the mysteries he had uncovered, as well as the strange feeling that had begun to nag him months ago.

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Kneeling beside the ashes of the cottage, his pale hands trailed there way through the debris, caressing the ruble gently. Bowing his head, he allowed a small prayer escape his lips.

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"But Piccolo . . . how much pain and suffering can one person experience before their broken?" He asked, his voice fading as he blocked off their connection. Standing, he took off into the air. It was time to go home.