To distract himself

Okay, I try not to do long author's notes, on account of I know nobody cares, but this time I have no choice.

I need to warn everyone about this chapter:
1. It is very long.
2. It is full of poorly written angst.
3. It is poorly consistent.
4. There is almost no sex in it.

I'm really not sure I even like the chapter all that much, to be honest. I do hope I'm not ruining this story for anyone.

Also, I would like to say a quick thanks to Ryuiki and Lunamaru, my two favourite readers. Thanks, guys! And sorry about this one.
Oh, and yes, Cell is dead. Sorry.

To distract himself chapter 3: Their aftermath


---

Wind swept through the crater that was all that was left of the battlefield of the Cell Games, stirring up dust, the only movement for miles.

That is, until the few dormant cells buried under a carpet of rubble remembered their function and started to multiply rapidly. In an impossibly short amount of time, they were a huge mass, the size of a human child, and then formed into a humanoid shape, arms and legs forming fingers and toes, facial features distinguishing themselves, armour plating finishing its formation and covering the whole body.

The creature called Cell Jr. staggered to its feet in more than a little surprise; It was dead. It was supposed to be dead. It had seen the destruction coming, all of its siblings gone first, and then flying at it, hatred visible in the eyes of death.

The eyes of Gohan.

What had happened after that? Cell Jr. didn’t know. It couldn’t feel Creator’s energy anywhere…had he died too? If so, was he coming back as well? Somehow, the little blue android didn’t think so. Not if Gohan had come after him.

But where was the boy? Cell Jr. looked around in a hurry, starting to panic. He couldn’t be dead too, could he? Briefly, it found itself entertaining the notion that it was the sole survivor so some apocalyptic battle.

No. It could still feel the half-Saiyan’s energy…somewhere. Gohan was alive.

Setting aside the irrelevant question of its own continued existence, Cell Jr. took flight, in the direction of the boy. It had to find him. Be near him. Hold him. Touch him. See him. Anything.

It needed him.

---

Silence reigned in the small, circular house in the mountains where now dwelt only two people, who once again mourned the loss of the third.

Gohan had said little since returning from the Cell Games, relating to his mother only that Goku had fallen in the battle with Cell, and that he had avenged his father by killing the evil android himself.

Chi-Chi, stricken over the loss of her husband for the third and, it seemed, final time, had not exactly been a fountain of conversation herself; and apparently assumed that her son’s silence was due to the same oppressive heaviness she felt in her own soul.

He let her think that. There was no need for his mother to know…what had happened to him. He had already sworn everyone else who had been present at the Games to eternal silence, and was not planning on letting anyone else in on the secret. It was…his own darkness to hold. Nobody else’s.

Only three days had passed since he had come home, healed, in new clothes (courtesy of Piccolo) and destroyed Chi-Chi’s happiness yet again. The two of them were sitting at their sitting at the kitchen table finishing their breakfast, pointedly ignoring the third chair in between them.

When it became clear that neither of them planned on finishing the rest of the eggs in front of them, they got up through an unspoken agreement and proceeded to remove the meal from the table, clean the dishes, put everything away. They then stood in the kitchen, the silence becoming unsure, as if they both wanted to say something…

But neither did, and the moment passed. Chi-Chi turned and headed for the living room, where, Gohan knew, she would sit and stare morosely out the window for several hours, not moving; he retreated to his bedroom, wherein he fell onto his meticulously made bed and curled up onto himself, blocking out the world until everything else ceased to exist.

Where he would have stayed until early afternoon, when hunger would have driven him out into the kitchen again, had not a sudden scream from his mother shaken him from his state.

Gohan jumped from bed, reflex taking over. A quick glance at the sun out the window revealed that just over two hours had passed. He ran from his room, nearly removing the door from its hinges, and was in the living room before a human could have blinked. He quickly scanned the room and found it empty but for Chi-Chi, who was standing, the rocking chair given to her by her father upon Gohan’s birth knocked to the ground, staring out the window with horror etched on her face.

The boy followed her line of sight until he saw what was causing such a reaction in his mother: a small blue apparition, the size of a child, bearing an almost perfect resemblance to a certain android Gohan knew. “Don’t worry,” he said to her, breaking an hours-long silence. “I can handle this thing.”

Though the question gnawed at his mind as he approached the window and threw it open, jumping outside for the first time since he had arrived home. How was this possible? He had killed every one of those creatures, he was certain, and Cell himself was definitely dead, so it couldn’t be a new one. One of them must have survived, somehow. He had missed something, not managed to destroy every last cell, as he had thought.

Cell Jr. was not moving, and hadn’t been since Gohan had come into its vision. It stood, waiting, apprehension written all over its face, as the half-Saiyan made his way toward it, powering himself up as he did so.

All of the Cell Jrs. had looked the same, with nothing to distinguish between them. Still, as he drew closer to this one, Gohan’s blood ran colder and he couldn’t help but feel a certain trepidation, knowing, just somehow knowing, which one this was.

“What do you want?” The boy demanded.

The thing responded with silence for the longest time, cocking its head to one side as if considering this. Finally, it straightened and looked straight at him. “Gohan.” It said. “Want Gohan.”

---

Here it was. Here he was. The two stared at each other across the yard following its declaration, Gohan in mute shock and Cell Jr. in nervous anticipation. Would Gohan accept what it was asking? Probably not. But it didn’t matter.

The android was proven right a second later, when the boy facing it raised a hand, powering up in an instant to Super Saiyan, and readied the blast of energy that would destroy it. For sure, this time.

Cell Jr. made no effort to defend itself; took no stance, gathered no energy, readied no sudden burst of speed. All it wanted was Gohan. If this was what he wanted, then, that was fine. It would rather be dead anyway.

It deserved this, Cell Jr. decided. They—the creature and Creator—had hurt him. Hurt Gohan. There could be no forgiveness for that. Never. Even death would not be enough to make amends for the damage inflicted on the boy. Cell Jr. had not realized that it possessed lacrimal ducts, but tears started running down its face at the thought of the irreparable pain it had helped inflict on Gohan. Those tears soon increased, and emotion welled up in the little android. It started trembling, then fell, sobbing, to the ground, awaiting the blast.

Which didn’t come. It felt the energy dissipate, and heard soft footfalls approach. The sound halted in front of where it sat, and it raised its tear-streaked face.

Gohan was looking down at it, something like confusion on his face. “What’s wrong with you?” He grabbed a shoulder and hefted it to its feet.

Cell Jr. couldn’t stop crying, but attempted to slow enough to speak. “Gohan.” It sniveled. “Gohan. Want Gohan. Hurt Gohan. Want die.”

An utterly unreadable look drew across the boy’s face and tears crowded his eyes as well, and for a minute it looked for all the world like Gohan would hug it, say it was alright, that everything was okay. Cell Jr. so desperately wanted that to be the case that it started bawling anew.

It felt a pressure on its shoulder; its feet left the ground. Gohan had lifted it and tossed it backwards, where Cell Jr. landed in a pile. The blue android looked up at the boy, who had turned his back. “Cell’s dead.” He rasped, struggling to keep his voice level. “He doesn’t control you anymore. Go away. Don’t come near me anymore.” And he walked back toward the house, not looking back.

It was going to be allowed to live? After everything? But…Gohan had rejected it, literally thrown it away. Even if he had left it alive. The mixed signals confused Cell Jr.

It stayed where it was, crying softly.

---

“A week, now,” Chi-Chi announced halfway through supper, “that thing’s been out there.”

Gohan sent a glance out the kitchen window. He couldn’t see Cell Jr. from here, but knew it was still sitting out there, exactly where he had left it, staring at the house. As it had been all week.

He knew he should go out and disintegrate the thing, as it seemed to want, as he knew he wanted, but couldn’t make himself do it. The small android was just so…pathetic.

“I really wish you would do something about it, Gohan.” His mother continued. “It’s starting to creep me out.”

Chi-Chi had decided, at some point in the last few days, that she was going to go back to normal, by force if need be. So she was putting on a brave face, carrying on conversations again, making new plans for the future, obviously hoping her zeal would rub off on her sullen son somehow.

Gohan was not making any effort, however, to assist her in this. He was spending less time in his room, true, but he set about the various tasks he was given in a valiant attempt to ‘help clear his head’ in a dour silence, doing nothing more that what was strictly necessary, before returning to his solitude.

“I mean, it’s probably just waiting to kill us in our sleep, or something. What does it want, anyway?”

“It’s lost.” Gohan surprised himself by saying suddenly, looking down at his plate. “Cell’s dead and there’s nobody to tell it what to do anymore. It doesn’t know what it is without him.”

“It should do everyone a favour and blow itself up.” Chi-Chi growled, after a momentary pause at her son’s defense of the creature.

“I’ll do something with it tomorrow.”

---

That night, Gohan experienced something he was expecting, but not welcoming. It had started happening in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber when he had been training with his father, but in light of what had happened at the Cell Games, had stopped after that. Two nights previous, it had begun to recur.

An aching hardness in his groin, wanting, needing to be touched. He had never told his father about it, too embarrassed to bring it up, but now had a pretty good idea that it wasn’t something that was unique to him, at least. When it had first started happening he had thought it was wrong, shameful, but had responded anyway. To ease the tension.

Now he didn’t care if it was wrong. It was so hard…almost painful. Gohan knew he would never sleep, never find the embrace, the solitude, of oblivion, if he didn’t do something about it.

Quickly, his movements jerky, his breath coming in short gasps, the young half-Saiyan reached down into the front of the shorts he was sleeping in and grabbed hold of himself.

As the first shock of pleasure ran through his body, Gohan cried out, remembering the last time he had felt it. All the memories of the Cell Games rushed back, full force, and he found himself leaking tears even as he worked at himself.

Not even a dozen quick tugs, and he came, filling his shorts with seed, his sobs coming in time with the ejaculations. He curled up into a tight ball and whimpered until sleep stole him away.

---

“Gohan, you said you were going to do something about that thing today.”

The boy opened his eyes blearily and looked at the upside-down face of his mother. “Yeah.” He muttered vaguely from where he lay on the living room sofa.

He couldn’t be in his room today, as he wanted to. He had woken up with, and gotten rid of, another painful erection, which had regained strength upon his returning there after breakfast. He suspected any normal boy his age would be thrilled at this, but to him, touching himself, it brought back…memories. Things he didn’t want to think about, just as it had last night. If only doing nothing were an option, if only they would go away with time, it wouldn’t matter, but it just stayed hard…until he did something about it. The only thing he could do about it.

“Well, could you do it soon? I have to go into the city today to get some groceries. I would rather not have to walk past that monster on my way to the car.”

“Yeah.” Gohan repeated.

Chi-Chi’s glare softened and she regarded him with something like pity. “I heard you last night.” She said softly.

Gohan sat bolt upright, his crimson face burning hot enough to boil metal.

Before he could speak, she continued: “Don’t worry about it.” A hand on his shoulder. “It normal; I understand.”

“Mom, I…”

“No, Gohan. Don’t worry about it.” She repeated in her ‘motherly’ voice. “It’s only to be expected that you would have nightmares after…what happened.”

Only when he realized that she meant her husband’s death did Gohan’s tension ease. “It’s not a big deal.” Actually, he had been having nightmares, right up until the night when he had started touching himself; then they had stopped. “I’m okay.”

“I know you are, son. My strong man.” A hug from behind. “If you ever want to talk, you know I’ll listen.”

Sure, for about three seconds until she went and fainted when he started telling the truth. He stood. “I’m going to go and…handle that thing now.”

As he crossed to leave the house, Gohan didn’t look back, so his mother wouldn’t see the tears threatening to break free from his eyes. And didn’t see the same thing happening to her.

---

Cell Jr. watched Gohan emerge from the house, watched him look around and find it. It averted its eyes when he did, looking away from the structure for the first time in a week. It did manage to resist the irrational temptation to dig furrows in the ground with its fingers, settling instead for ripping up grass.

Gohan stopped in front of it, but Cell Jr. remained staring it his feet. It couldn’t bring itself to look at him, see him, remind them both what had happened.

“Get up.” The voice was hoarse. Cell Jr. looked up. Gohan clearly had no intention of repeating the command, and was looking down on the android with something like disgust marring his face. As it obeyed, it noticed that the boy’s eyes were slightly swollen, his face reddened.

Knowing Gohan had been crying made Cell Jr. want to bawl again; it started to snivel.

“Stop!” Came the unexpected shout. “That’s not…you think I…just stop. Stop doing that.”

Now thoroughly confused, Cell Jr. wiped its eyes, obediently attempting to cease its excretions. Gohan stood there, waiting for it to compose itself. Nearly a full minute passed before it was able to push down the fountain of emotion that seemed to be overflowing inside.

Once it was finally able look at Gohan—his clavicle, anyway; it knew there was no way it could muster enough calm to look him in the eye—Cell Jr. stood and waited for him to do whatever it was he had come to do.

“You have to leave. You can’t be here anymore.”

The android shook its head. “Stay.”

“No. Go away.”

“Stay here.” It said determinedly. “Stay Gohan.”

“No!” The boy repeated. “I don’t want you here!”

Now it looked up, locking gazes with Gohan, glaring into his eyes. “Want Gohan. Gohan here. Stay here.” Its monologue over, it stood stock still, expecting a shout, a punch…something. It was ready.

---

For a very long time the two stood, watching each other, neither moving.

What did the creature want? What did it mean, ‘Want Gohan?’ The obvious conclusion was that it wanted a repeat of the Cell Games, which was obviously not going to happen. Surely it realized that.

But…it had made no attempt, no effort to act on this apparent desire. Before, it had literally jumped on him, ripped his clothing off. Now, though it professed to ‘want’ him, it could barely look at him. It made no sense to Gohan.

Unless…As the tense silence extended, he let his mind run, trying to puzzle out the Cell Jr.’s reasoning, if there was any.

The most obvious solution was that the juvenile little android was trying to trick Gohan somehow; and was planning to either attack him or…try something more illicit. But it had to know either would fail. Gohan had—theoretically—killed it once already, and could easily do so again. Any attack, of a physical or sexual nature would be futile in the face of his superior power. Besides, Gohan honestly didn’t think it had the brain capacity to form a plan in that manner.

Leaving option two, which Gohan didn’t want to believe: The thing’s emotions were real, and it was actually feeling some measure of guilt over what it had done. The very thought made his head spin. If this thing had an emotional capacity, had feelings as well…didn’t that mean it was as much a victim of Cell’s depravity as he was?

No. It was impossible. It couldn’t be true. If it was, then…

But…It had cried, for hours after he had rejected it before; and had almost started to do so again just now. And though it stood firm now, glaring determinedly at him, Gohan could see, behind its eyes, an fearful apprehension; sense the minute quaver that was running through its body. Could it even be possible for it to fraudulently express emotions in that much detail?

‘Want Gohan.’ Was it possible that the creature had some kind of bizarre affection for him?

Was that possible?

---

Cell Jr. had not had a very long life. However, it was confident in the assertion that these last few minutes had been long enough to comprise the majority of its existence.

It waited, and waited, every perfectly designed cell in its body seeming supercharged, as if the lightest touch would be enough to make it explode. It waited for Gohan. And it would wait forever.

Finally, Gohan jerked his head away, quickly rubbing a wrist over his eyes. “Fine.” He muttered. “Stay here. I don’t care.”

This grudging…what? Not acceptance, but…apathy? Whatever it was, it was the best six words Cell Jr. had ever heard. Overjoyous and suddenly giddy, it leapt, landing a crushing hug around the boy’s torso.

And felt its sentiment returned by shout and a harsh shove. “No!” It fell roughly to the ground and stared up at Gohan. “Just…no.” He said, the pain back in his voice and written on his face. “Don’t touch me.”

As the half-Saiyan turned and headed back for his house, Cell Jr. picked itself off the ground, took a few hesitant steps to follow.

Gohan paused, hearing it, but did nothing to stop the tentative pursuit.

So Cell Jr. followed him into the house.

---

For some reason, Chi-Chi had had a problem with the ‘vile little monster’ being in her house, and had shown her characteristic lack of volume control when she had seen what had followed her son home. The ensuing argument had been entirely one-sided, with her shrieking and yelling and throwing things to illustrate why she would not allow Cell Jr. to stay, and Gohan waiting passively for her to run out of steam, and then doing what he wanted anyway.

When it became crystalline that her wishes were not going to be observed, Chi-Chi decided that the best route was one of avoidance. Now, two days later, she simply went out of her way not to notice that her blue houseguest existed; and she kept managing to find reasons to leave whatever room it was in.

Which, since it spent all of its time following Gohan, meant he almost never saw her anymore. Not that she would be speaking to him in any case. He did welcome the absence of her false cheer, her ‘helpful’ pep talks and assignments. Nothing to intrude on his silence any more, wherever he went.

“I just don’t understand why you want that thing in our house!” She had burst out that morning, huffing irritably at his answering shrug.

Even he didn’t know what had driven him to allow Cell Jr. to stay. So maybe it felt for him. What did that matter? It really meant nothing. Sure, it had nowhere else to go, no purpose in its life, but what did that mean to Gohan? Nothing, that’s what. He didn’t care a whit for what happened to it. He had hardly spoken to it since letting it in.

But still, he couldn’t bring himself to cast it out. It just seemed so happy to follow him around and watch him….all the time. Aside from having to make it clear that it couldn’t follow him into the bathroom or sleep in his bed, there had been no trouble. It wasn’t as though it was hurting anyone. It wasn’t even doing anything.

Currently, it was half-hiding behind the refrigerator, watching him wash the dishes. Chi-Chi had muttered something to him about getting the task finished as she had fled the kitchen after dinner, leaving him alone with the android and the mess.

Gohan knew nothing about cooking, but he couldn’t see how it was possible to create such a huge mess in making a meal for just two people. The dishes piled up on the counter beside him had been level with his head when he started, and were now only half gone, the opposite sink wherein resided the clean dishes completely full.

Removing his scalded hands from the water and fishing a dry towel out of a drawer, the boy set about the task of drying the dishes and putting them away. One particularly large pot gave him a small problem, needing to sit on the top of a tall shelf, until Gohan remembered he could fly.

When he landed, he was peripherally aware that the small kitchen was much less empty than it had been a minute ago. Cell Jr. had emerged from around the fridge, and was standing in the middle of the room, looking like it was trying to be invisible.

Aside from a passing glance so it knew he could see it, Gohan ignored the creature and went back to washing the dishes. An oversized saucepan was next, followed by a glass measuring cup…

Gohan didn’t visibly react when he felt Cell Jr. beside him, but his shoulders tensed up. He kept working, watching it from the corner of its eye.

Trepidatiously, as though fearing a negative reaction (which it probably was), Cell Jr. reached across the counter and picked up the discarded drying towel. Gohan continued washing the cup, placing it on the clean pile and reaching for a long wooden ladle.

The android grabbed the measuring cup in one hand and slowly began to rub the towel over it, drying the water off. Gohan finished with the ladle and reached for the gravy boat.

Finished drying, Cell Jr. wandered over and opened a cupboard apparently at random. “No.” Gohan said without turning around. He saw it flinch back in his peripheral vision as he lifted a hand, pointing at another cupboard. “In there.”

It put the dish away and came back for the next one, ridiculous smile plastered on its face.

---

In the quiet darkness of the night, Gohan lay on his bed, head in his hands, and pondered his…what? Servant? Pet? He didn’t even know what word to ascribe to Cell Jr. anymore.

In wake of the dishes yesterday, he had spent the whole day making it do inconsequential tasks, just to see if it would. And it would. Every single thing he told it to do, no matter how bizarre or miniscule, was completed exactly as he had specified. The android was just over the moon about the whole thing, apparently thrilled that Gohan was paying attention to it.

He looked over at the thing, curled in sleep in the far corner—Chi-chi had made it explicitly clear that if he wanted the ‘monster’ to sleep in their house, it would be in his bedroom—and wondered. Aside from trying to sleep in his bed on the first night, it had made no attempt to so much as breathe on him since he had let it in; a complete inversion of the way it had behaved at the Games…

He was starting, despite himself, to believe that there was a deeper meaning behind Cell Jr.’s claims to ‘want’ him. Did it really care for him? He wasn’t…wasn’t ready to consider the implications of that. Not at all.

At some point during his deep thoughts, sleep claimed Gohan as its own. When he resurfaced into the realm of the conscious, the moon had shifted, the nocturnal light drifting ethereally in the window and casting a pall of illumination on his face, too scathingly bright even in its subtle lucency to allow for the parting of eyelids.

But that fact went unnoticed by the boy in the bed, whose thoughts were more focused on the ache that had awoken him.

His nighttime routine had undergone some adjustment since he had found himself with a roommate. Not wanting to touch himself with Cell Jr. in the room, Gohan had been making nightly trips to the washroom to take care of his problem. Now, in his half-somnolent state, nothing even occurred to him but to reach down…like that…and just…rub…like this…until his problem went away so he could sleep.

Which undoubtedly would have happened, had his thoughtless state not been intruded on by images under his eyelids. Despite that knowledge that his visitor was sleeping quietly in the corner, he saw, real as life, the little android kneeling over him hungrily.

His own hand ceased to be his, was replaced by Cell Jr.’s. It was stroking him faster, harder, until he couldn’t keep silent, cried out…

Gohan started in full wakefulness, one sticky hand still down his shorts. Panting, he rubbed at his eyes with his clean hand as he tried to make sense of what he had just…dreamed? He didn’t even know.

The bathroom. He needed to go to the bathroom, to wash off. To think. He removed his hand, wiping the worst of it on the shorts— told himself that he would need to wear a different pair tomorrow night—swung his leg over the side of the bed, turned…

Saw Cell Jr. watching him with eyes that seemed to take up most of its face.

Shouted—something indistinct, even he didn’t know what—grabbed his pillow and heaved it across the room at the android with as much strength as he could muster.

Shaking, he lay down again, curled back to the creature, and pulled the blankets over his head.

And pretended to sleep until the sun came up.

---

“Honey? Is something wrong?”

Gohan looked up from the mutilated noodles on his plate. He had been pushing them around for the last twenty minutes, about as interested in dinner as he had been everything else that day. “What?”

“I…” A strange indecision crossed his mother’s face before she continued. “I heard you shout last night. Do you want to talk about it?”

Gohan’s face reddened and he looked back down. “Bad dream. Not a big deal.” He muttered to his plate.

“It is a big, deal, Gohan. You haven’t spoken all day. You made that…thing…stay in your room. Something is wrong.” Chi-Chi insisted.

Well, of course he hadn’t let the little creep follow him around all day. Wasn’t he allowed to be in a bad mood after last night? It was perfectly reasonable. Not that he would be explaining that. “It’s nothing.”

“No, it isn’t!” Gohan looked up in surprise, first at the newly upturned glass of water spilling its contents over the table, and then at his mother, standing with her palms flat between her plate and the beans. “It is not nothing, Gohan! You shout in your room at night, don’t talk during the day; you let that thing in my house but don’t let it near you; something is wrong! You need to talk about this, son. I need you to talk to me so I can help you!”

“Mom!” Now Gohan stood, raising his own voice. “I don’t need you to help me! I’m not five years old anymore, I’m old enough to solve my own problems!”

“Don’t you shout at me, young man!”

Gohan didn’t bother answering, just turned stormed out of the kitchen, ignoring his mother’s shouts behind him.

His feet on autopilot, he didn’t realize where he was going until he had his hand on the doorknob, and only then remembered why he had been avoiding his room all day.

So he stood in the hallway, hand turned half supine around the metal ball he held, leaned his head against the wood and seethed.

Why wouldn’t she just leave him alone? He was making it rather obvious that he didn’t want to talk to her about his problems. They were his problems. But still, she just…

Suddenly realizing what he was doing, he changed the tack of his thoughts. He was being kept out of his own damn bedroom! Furious again, he wrenched the knob and tossed the door open. Ignoring his cowering roommate, he crossed to his still pillowless bed and lay down, back to the room.

After a few moments, soft footfalls reached his ears, approaching his bed, but he ignored them. There was no sound of continued movement from behind him. It was just standing there, waiting.

Gohan ignored it for as long as he could stand, but the though of that thing right behind him…eventually he growled, twisting his spine to bark at it.

He came face to face with his pillow, being held out by Cell Jr. as if in penance. The android itself was watching him fearfully while trying not to appear to be doing so. Gohan snatched it from its hands wordlessly and, deciding it wasn’t worth it to berate the quivering creature, lay back down, dismissing it with his silence.

It didn’t leave, not immediately. Only when he heard footsteps cross the room again, finally, did Gohan allow himself to relax.

He hadn’t been cognizant of falling asleep, but he opened his eyes to darkness; heard the sounds of night drifting in through the window.

Felt the usual nocturnal ache between his thighs.

He started to get out of bed automatically, but as soon as he could see the door he saw the light shining underneath it. His mother was still awake. Stuck, Gohan lay there for a moment, until a nasty idea occurred to him. Perhaps he should test just how far Cell Jr.’s devotion to him went…

Resting on his back, Gohan threw back the blankets, removed his shirt and pants—he hadn’t bothered earlier—and put a hand down the front of his shorts.

Not wanting to be utterly obvious, he didn’t make a tremendous amount of noise, nothing beyond the odd grunt, but it was enough. A quick glance over to the corner told him that, although the android wasn’t looking at him—it wouldn’t dare, not after last night—it knew what he was doing. In the dim light provided by the moon, he could see the little body, lying too tensely to be sleeping.

“Hey.” He said, voice harsh from sleep. A twitch from the creature, but nothing else. “Come here.”

Slowly, as if fearing some trick, Cell Jr. obeyed. With very little hesitation of his own, Gohan slid the shorts down around his hips and sat up. “This is what you want, right? Well, here you go. Take it.”

It moved forward, kneeling, still waiting for the other shoe to drop on its head. As slow as it possibly could without actually not moving, it reached out one hand and touched Gohan on the thigh. His nonreaction emboldened the creature somewhat, and it started moving the hand up. It grabbed hold of Gohan’s erection and stayed perfectly still for a moment, looking at what it had done. Gohan still did nothing.

Finally, some internal dam seemed to break, and Cell Jr. all but lunged forward, grabbing him in both hands for a minute, rubbing vigourously, and then using its mouth.

A wave of pleasure hit Gohan like a bus, followed by a flood of remembrance. The first time, the last time, they had done this…memories of things being forced on him, forced into him, overwhelmed the boy, and he let out something between a sob and a moan. Tears ran down his face and landed on Cell Jr.’s head, but he didn’t make it stop. Didn’t want it to stop, even as he wished it would.

He came, and cried out as if in pain. Curling himself around the android’s head even as it swallowed him down, Gohan struggled to regain his equilibrium. He let go of the form underneath him, and Cell Jr. looked up at him almost expectantly.

“What, do you want, a reward?” Gohan growled, shoving it by the shoulders onto the ground. “Get away from me.” He quickly hiked up his shorts and lay back down, rolling onto his side again. Once more he ignored the creature as it scrabbled back to its place in the corner, but wouldn’t let himself fall asleep until he was sure it wasn’t listening for him any more.

---

Days later, as he worked up a decent sweat outside, Gohan realized that he was feeling better. Not immensely so, but enough that it was perceptible to him.

Mostly to get out of the house and away from his mother, he had decided to restart his training. Cell Jr. had followed him, as per usual, and he had quickly found himself with a sparring partner. Or rather, a punching bag. The little android had the regenerative capabilities of its creator, so Gohan could do what he wanted to it, and it would be fine. Of course, it didn’t lift a finger to stop him.

And after training, well, he was finding himself hard several times a day, almost whenever they were alone for extended periods. It had made no complaint about Gohan using it this way as well…They both got what they wanted. What they deserved.

It deserved this. It did. After the pain this thing and its master had inflicted on him, it deserved to be pummeled and abused by him, and more. Gohan felt no guilt over this. And he…he deserved the memories. Every time he allowed the creature to…touch him, everything that had happened at the Cell Games came flooding back to him in full detail. How he had been touched, hurt, how he had complied, gone along with it, allowed them to do it to him…yes, he deserved the pain as well. He had convinced himself of this.

And speaking of which…”Enough.” He muttered, landing softly on the ground and turning for the woods that shaded his house. “Come on.” He said to the android, not looking back or waiting for its shattered arm to finish healing.

They used the woods because, although he wasn’t speaking to Chi-Chi still, he didn’t want to be tremendously obvious by going in to his room every couple of hours. If she noticed and wondered why they were retiring to the trees on their breaks, she didn’t say.

Once in the shade, Gohan sat under a tree soft with moss and opened the front of his pants. He had stopped wearing underwear a few days previous; they just got in the way. His stiff little rod poked out into to the coolness of the foliage cover, waiting impatiently.

It didn’t wait long. Cell Jr. stumbled in just a few seconds later, popping its shoulder back into place with a wrench. It fell into a sitting position in front of him and began sucking without preamble. Gohan wasn’t interested in conversation.

He was interested only it what he wanted, what he deserved.

---

It knew, as much as it had ever known anything, that it shouldn’t be doing this for Gohan. To Gohan. Yes, it was what he wanted and the android liked the act itself, but it was plain that every time it touched him, it was causing him more pain. Knowing that it was hurting him again, like it had sworn not too, made it want to cry again. But it knew Gohan would be mad if it cried. Selfish, yes. But more than anything, it didn’t want Gohan to be mad at it.

So it did sucked the boy as much as he wanted it to, no matter how much it hurt both of them. As much as it tore it apart, it hurt the boy. Because he asked it too. Because he wanted it.

---

Gohan grunted in frustration as he swung a kick that connected brutally with the side of Cell Jr.’s head, cracking plate armour and sending his animate training dummy flying off to the side. He almost resisted the urge to glance back toward the house. Almost.

They were far enough away that Chi-Chi couldn’t see much of anything from the window through which she watched them, as she had been for the whole day. She had finally let her curiosity get the better of her, it seemed, and had broken their weeklong silence that morning to ask him why suddenly wanted to spend so much time with their houseguest. He had only shrugged vaguely before dragging the creature in question out the door. She had said nothing to stop him, but had watched them all day, apparently hoping to discern something from the living room.

It was getting on his nerves, making him want to hit something.

Conveniently, Cell Jr. happened to right itself at that moment, coming to stand beside him as he watched the house from the corner of his eye. Without warning, he struck out and punched it in the stomach, doubling it over. “Come on.” He didn’t look at the creature as he turned. Instead of heading for the woods, he took to the air. She could watch out the window as much as she wanted; he would just go somewhere else.

As his tagalong righted itself, coughing, and lifted off after him, Gohan felt a pang of something…it was almost like regret. Not almost. Just like that. He felt…bad. It had been completely unnecessary to hit the poor…No! The poor nothing. He forced himself away from that train of thought. Cell Jr. was a nasty, horrible little monster, who had hurt him, willing done things to hurt him…

The realization that he didn’t believe his own rationalizations hit him like a hammer. It wasn’t that he liked the thing, but he didn’t…hate it. Didn’t even really dislike it. He told himself that he didn’t care, that was all.

Not true. He had never been good at lying, even to himself. He felt…something for the creature. Some—just a little, but some—attachment. The boy stopped in midair, turned to face Cell Jr.

The questioning look bore silently into him, patiently waiting for whatever it was he wanted to do. Just like always. Gohan’s breath caught. Suddenly he wanted to cry as everything they had done, everything he had done, in the past week flooded into his awareness. What was he doing? Hurting someone because…Why? Because he liked it? He was becoming just like…just like him. Just like Cell. “S-sorry. For hitting you.” He spluttered quickly, before turning again and pouring the speed on.

---

Utter bewilderment was becoming almost like Cell Jr.’s default state of mind when it came to Gohan. An apology? Why? Did Gohan...care about it? “No.” It muttered, shaking its head. “No.” It was all too complicated. It didn’t understand this. Didn’t understand… Love.

And it did love him, Cell Jr. knew. It had only a vague understanding of the concept of this emotion, but what it knew of the subject was enough to convince it. That was what it felt for the boy.

It started, realized that it was floating alone in the air. Speeding off as fast as it could in the direction Gohan had gone, searching until it found him.

He was sitting in a small clearing by a river deep in the woods, staring at the water. Cell Jr. landed a few paces behind him, not bothering to announce its arrival. Gohan looked up, glanced at it for the barest instant before looking back down.

“Gohan okay?”

He laughed—or it might have been a sob—and said nothing for a minute. Finally, “No. ‘Course I’m not. I’ve been… Of course I’m not.”

Slowly approaching him, Cell Jr. sat down on the grass a couple of feet from him. Close enough to touch, if they wanted to. It tentatively put a hand on the grass halfway between them. Gohan stared at it like it might bite him.

The river hurrying through the woods and the birds chattering in the trees were the only sounds to intrude in its auditory canals, that and the quiet breathing of the boy next to it. Cell Jr. waited for Gohan to speak.

“Do…” This came out after about fifteen minutes, and another five elapsed before he continued. “Do you hate me?”

“No!” It said, louder than it intended. “No hate Gohan. No.”

“Why not?”

Cell Jr. blinked in incomprehension. “Why not?” It repeated.

“I hated you.” Those words hurt more than anything that had ever been physically done to the android, but Gohan continued. “You hurt me. A lot. Made me…I hated you.”

“Gohan…hate me?” It barely managed to get the words out.

“No. Not anymore. I…I don’t know what I think anymore.”

Not being hated made Cell Jr. want to jump, but it stayed still. “Why me hate Gohan?”

“I’ve been doing the same thing to you.” For the first time, Gohan looked at it; he must have seen the incomprehension writ on the juvenile face, because he sighed. “Nevermind.”

Silence reigned for a while longer, and then, “What is it that you want?”

“Want Gohan.” The answer was automatic, the android didn’t even have to think about it.

But it was apparently the wrong answer, since storm clouds formed behind the boy’s eyes on hearing it. “Want me for what? That doesn’t make any sense!” He almost shouted. “What is it that you want from me?”

A kind of terror griped Cell Jr. It didn’t want to say the wrong thing again and hurt Gohan again, but he clearly expected an answer. “Want…” Its voice faltered, and it cursed its limited vocabulary—not knowing how to express what it needed to say could end up catastrophic. “L-love Gohan.”

“No!” Now he shouted, jumping to his feet. “You’re lying!”

“Not lie.” It forced more conviction into its voice this time. “Love Gohan.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He muttered, striding a few paces away.

“Yes know.” It insisted, trying not to whine.

A snort, and then silence for a minute. Then, movement as Gohan, his back to the android, lifted his shirt over his head. “Fine.” He untied his belt; a quick shove caused his pants to fall to the ground. He stepped out of them, leaving him nude. “Fine.” Gohan repeated, turning again and sitting heavily on the grass, leaning back and propping himself up with outstretched arms, legs apart. “This is what you really want, right? Here you go. Take it.”

Eyes wide, Cell Jr. stood, surprised to discover that its knees were shaking, and slowly advanced on Gohan, who was watching it, angry tears seconds away from falling. “Come on.” He demanded, his voice skipping.

It knelt between the splayed legs, reached out a hand to touch. “No.” It couldn’t do this. Not anymore. The hand connected, lightly brushing Gohan’s chest. “No. Not hurt Gohan.” It wouldn’t, and the boy could get as mad as he wanted.

“Hurt me!” He demanded. “You’re supposed to hurt me. You were made to hurt me. I want you to hurt me.” The anger in his voice degraded through the outburst; he was almost pleading by the end of it. “You need to hurt me, so…so…” Sobs overtook him, and he couldn’t finish the sentence. The boy moved back; righted himself and turned his back to the creature.

Still crouching, Cell Jr. put a hand on Gohan’s shoulder. The boy lashed out, hitting it square in the chest and knocking the wind out of it, but it refused to move away. It lifted the limb, ducked under it and walked in a crouch to kneel in front of him, hands on both shoulders.

“Why?” Gohan asked it, staring down at the puddles his tears were making in the dents his fists had made in the ground. “Why did you say that? Say you love me?”

“Because do.”

“Why?” Tremors wracked the boy; still he didn’t look up. “Tell me why!”

The answer was a long time in coming, as Cell Jr. struggled to come up with the right words, to not make a verbal error in this most important thing it had ever had to say. “Because Gohan…because Gohan is beautiful.”

---

Naked, crying and being held by the little android, that one sentence cut through Gohan like a knife. He stopped sobbing long enough to finally look up, into the serious eyes of Cell Jr. It was not lying, he knew. “W-what? I’m not…”

“No.” An armoured hand drew down to rest on his heart. “Beautiful in.”

Gohan held the stare for a minute longer, and then redoubled his sobbing, collapsing into the android’s arms.

He wanted so much to hate it, this creature who had hurt him, wanted it to be the epitome of all the wrongs in his world. But he couldn’t. The one he hated was dead, disintegrated down to the last particle.

Cell. He was the one who Gohan’s hatred was directed at. Cell had killed his friends, his father, had raped him—he forced himself to think that word, the one he had been avoiding—raped him without even laying a finger on him. Had made him do it to himself.

That was the worst of it. Gohan hadn’t even fought it, hadn’t resisted at all. He had just let the monster get away with it; get away with everything he wanted. If he had at least been forced, physically had no choice, than at least he could safely lay blame on the android, without that little voice in his head every time he tried, telling him that maybe if he had just tried a little harder to stop it from happening…

Then maybe it wouldn’t have been his fault.

And here he was, and here Cell Jr. was. The small android had been complicit, eager even, in what had happened. But at the same time, it hadn’t concocted the idea, had just had it…programmed into its little mind. Now it seemed to have overridden that programming. It felt bad. It loved him.

It understood what had happened to him better than anyone on the planet.

And didn’t think any less of him. Didn’t blame him.

Slowly, eventually, the tears stopped flowing, the shaking stopped, the overwhelming weight of everything seemed to lessen. Gohan looked up. Cell Jr. was still watching him seriously. He reached an arm around it—no, not it. Not anymore. Him. He would never be a thing again—and pulled him close.

“I’m sorry.”

Cell Jr. reached around him and hugged back. He too, was crying. “No. me sorry first.”

Gohan didn’t love him. Didn’t know if he could. But there was something between them, shared pain, maybe, that put them closer to each other than to anyone else.

And he wouldn’t let go of that.

---


Chi-Chi smiled out the window as she cut up the vegetables. Things were finally returning to normal. She didn’t know what had happened that day two weeks past when Gohan and Cell Jr.. had gone off into the woods, but when they had come back, Gohan had come in and apologized to her, told her that he would be okay. She had taken his word for it.

Clearly the little android had played some role in the whole thing, for which she was grateful. He wasn’t actually so bad, now that she was getting to know him. It was kind of cute watching them together, Gohan trying to teach him how to speak properly, how to read… They had even helped him pick out a real name; he had taken all of their advice seriously, about how it was an important decision about what he wanted people to call him for the rest of his life, and had chosen to be called Happy. Silly, perhaps, but he wouldn’t be dissuaded. It was like she now had two children. That morning, she had gone into their room to awaken them and found them sleeping together in Gohan’s bed, the spare they had set up for Happy looking completely unused.

She tossed the potatoes in the pot of stew and paused to rest a hand on her belly. Three, soon, if she was right. But she could worry about that later. She reached for some carrots—Happy’s favourite, even if Gohan didn’t like them—and started chopping them to pieces, chuckling as she watched the scene playing out in her yard.

They were supposedly training, although it looked more like playing to Chi-Chi. It had certainly started out as a sparring match, but now they were just chasing each other around. Every once in a while, they would run by the window, hell-bent on jumping on the other and pinning him to the ground. Now is seemed Happy had decided to make it more fun; he had stolen Gohan’s belt, and the boy was trying to catch him while keeping his pants up at the same time.

She would still worry about him, of course. He still wouldn’t tell her the whole truth about what had happened to him, she knew, and he would be growing up without a father… But right now, that didn’t matter. Everything was fine.

---

Panting heavily, Gohan lay spread-eagled on the grass, waiting.

As he thought, Happy appeared in his vision momentarily, leaning over him, dangling his belt. “Come get.” He teased.

“Too tired. You win.”

“Aww. No fun.” He crouched to sit beside Gohan, who pounced. A quick wrestling match ensued, and the half-Saiyan came out victorious.

“Ha!” He stood, hastily fixing his clothes. Happy stuck out his tongue.

“Boys!” Came a call from the house. “Come get dinner! I made stew!”

“Stew!” Happy yelled, jumping to his feet and starting toward the house. “Gohan, come on!”

He watched how excited the android got and smiled. Happy was, well, happy.

And, he realized, he was as well. It had happened slowly, but he was feeling none of the despair, almost none of the pain that had plagued him in the weeks following the Cell Games. He was okay.

“Happy?” He called. The android turned, question in his eyes. “Thank you.”

A smile that used his whole face, and Happy ran up to him, grabbed a hand. “You welcome.” He jumped up, wrapping legs around Gohan’s waist, and kissed him lightly on the mouth before jumping back down. “Come on, stew!” And pulled him toward the house.

Gohan smiled and put a hand to his tingling lips. He didn’t love the android, not yet. But…he was getting there.

---


End.


---

Did I mention that the ending is really abrupt? Because it is.

Well, I think I just made it very clear why I don't write anything that has a plot; not my forte at all. Alas. I might do a pointless, sex-filled oneshot at some point in the future so I don't feel as bad about this ending.