Adult-FanFiction.org : Gundam, Beyblade, DBZ, FMA

His teacher	By : AwesomeIncarnate Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 6480 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: You know how you can tell I don't own DBZ? By the way I don't make any money from writing this, and have to have a real job.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Damn, never thought I'd be one of the six-month people. But shit, as I am fond of saying, happens.

Also, they've changed the posting thing since I've been gone, and the new system seems to hate me. So there might be formatting stuff that I didn't catch.

Lunamaru: Well, if angst is what you're looking for, then you need go no further than this chapter! And I'm glad you like the 'box' moments. I made that up on the spur of the moment, but it took a life of its own and became this whole thing.

Ryuiki: Thanks for saying that about the fight scenes! That's a new area for me so I'm happy that it seems to be going well. And I can't help but feel as though you're trying to subtly suggest something to me...

---

Chapter 7: What it feels like

---

"So, let me just make sure I understand." Bulma said, eyes closed and finger pointing in the general direction of her guest. "You're still alive, even though you're just a head. You want to show me how to destroy the androids that you created, because only now that they've decapitated you do you realize that it was a mistake to make them?"

"I suppose that is an adequate summary of the circumstances, yes." Gero—Gero's head—said from the floor of the repair bay. "So, now that we've established—finally—where we are, will you kindly behave as a rational human being and do as you're told?"

"Okay." No, just no. It would not be working this way. "Listen here, Wrinkles. I will take a lot of crap from a lot of people, but not from the disembodied head of a megalomaniacal psychopath who doesn't even know how to use shampoo!"

Gero just looked at her. "If you're finished," He drawled, "Perhaps now you will go and get your father for me so I can direct him in what needs to be done."

"Absolutely not. My father is busy, and I'm perfectly capable of understanding robotics." Actually, the real reasons she didn't want Gero and her dad in the same room were because Dr. Briefs was a leading expert in compression technology and vehicle innovation, but was utterly confused by regular old robots. And also he was an idiot and would probably say yes when Gero asked to see all of his secret files. In any case, Bulma strode across the vehicle bay and forced herself to seize Gero's hair without flinching, all but dragging him in to the main lab.

"Unhand me, woman! You have no idea the value of what you're swinging around! If you damage my brain..."

"I think it's too late for that one, Gero." She tossed him onto her desk and sat in front of him. "Alright, talk. What do I have to do to shut those little inventions of your down?"

"In the amount of time it would take me to explain it to you," Gero growled, "Seventeen and Eighteen will have destroyed everything on the planet. Hook me up to your computer and I will download the files to you directly from my stored memory."

"Yeah, right." Bulma actually snorted. "So you can hack in and take over our whole system. Try harder."

The doctor's head made an indistinct sort of muttering noise before speaking again. "I can do nothing without a computer. You must..."

"You are a computer." She reminded him. The phone on her desk rang, and Bulma answered it instinctively. "Hello?" Then she remembered that she was busy and had to force herself not to hang up.

"Ms. Briefs?" It was one of the people who worked for Capsule Corp. Bulma didn't know him, but assumed so because nobody called her Ms. Briefs except for people who worked for them. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but there's been an incoming call that I think you should know about."

"Is it an emergency? I'm a bit busy right now." She glanced over at the head on her desk again and managed not to stick out her tongue. Because she was a mature adult.

"Well..." The young man on the other end of the line hesitated. "I don't know that it's an emergency, but someone called us and reported having found a vehicle with our logo on the side on his property this morning."

"Just tell him to call a tow truck. We don't need to pick up every broken down old..."

"Yes, Ms. Briefs, I know, but he sent us a picture, and nobody in our office recognized the model of the vehicle." Bulma sighed quietly. It wasn't as though the telephone bank people had ultimate knowledge of the Capsule Corp. product line. "So, I sent it down to the lab to see if you could identify it. The man wants to know if it's dangerous."

"Alright, I'll take a look." Sighing again and taking the cordless phone across the room with her, Bulma strode to the fax machine, where the paper that she had ignored earlier still lay. The picture had been taken in a forest, and in the centre of it, covered in vegetation, was...

"What the Hell?"

---

"No, 'cause see, you forgot to multiply X by pi. That's the only way to get the answer."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot." Trunks had never understood math. When Gohan had asked for help, the time traveler had assumed the boy would be doing times tables. But of course it was algebra. Because Gohan was a freak of nature. So, as usual, their teacher/pupil relationship left Trunks as the pupil.

But it was okay. Because at least Gohan was talking to him almost politely again. Even if it was only about imaginary numbers.

The book was abruptly taken away from him with a sigh. "Maybe something easier." Gohan flipped to the beginning and worked his half of the pencil, the one with the eraser, over the page for a few minutes before handing it back. "Here, try these ones."

"Uh, okay." Goku moaned again and Gohan tensed up, but didn't turn to look. Trunks was sitting where Gohan had been before, with his back to the corner and facing the rest of the plane. The other half-Saiyan was laying on his belly, supported by his left arm, facing Trunks. The time traveler was starting to think that Gohan had lain there on purpose to avoid having to look at his father.

"It's okay, Gohan. It'll—"

"Just do the first problem." Gohan was looking down at the floor and his voice was flat as the spun his half of the broken pencil in his fingers.

"Gohan..."

"Trunks!" It wasn't loud, but it certainly sounded it. In a more level tone, Gohan continued. "Just...don't."

He should have pushed it, probably. Made Gohan talk about what was bothering him. It would make the boy feel better, he had no doubt. But all he said was, "Okay. Sorry." And looked down at his—Gohan's—book again.

This was the way it always was, with Gohan. He was quiet when he had problems. Trunks had always assumed that it was because he had grown up in a world where, frankly, nobody had given a damn what he was feeling. Even though it had always pissed him off, he had accepted it as part of who his Gohan was.

But it seemed that the apocalypse wasn't wholly to blame for Gohan's behaviour. This world had only had androids for a few hours, and the boy was still being an obstinate pain in the ass.

Trunks couldn't quite make himself believe that that was just the way Gohan was. It must be the stress of everything. Maybe it was his fault. Maybe telling them of the threat in advance was what had caused all the stress, which had caused the introversion. The thought made him feel incredibly guilty, but there was nothing he could have done about it. They had to be warned. Or else it would have been the same world all over again, with the androids, and Gohan growing up alone, and dying alone.

That wasn't going to happen this time. Gohan wasn't going to die alone. Gohan wasn't going to die at all. And neither was anyone else. Goku would save them all once he woke up, Trunks was sure of it.

A glance back at the Earth's strongest warrior showed that he was calm again. Chi-Chi was putting the bottle of medicine from the future away. A medicine that wouldn't be invented for five more years. The only bottle of it currently in existence. If it didn't work...

But it would. It was a proven cure in the future. Besides, It had to work. If it didn't, Goku would die and the world would end up the same. And that just wasn't going to happen while Trunks was around.

"Trunks?"

"Huh?" He looked up at Gohan, and only then realized that he had been staring at the book for the last five minutes without doing anything.

"What's the problem?" He actually didn't seem annoyed, which was nice.

"I...uh, don't really get this at all." Higher math had never been a major part of his education growing up. Even when Gohan had tried to teach him, it had all gone over his head. Mostly because he hadn't been paying attention.

Gohan sighed tolerantly. "Okay. It's not that hard. Algebra is math with the numbers taken out..."

This. This was what he was fighting for. Sitting there, talking about something stupid—because no matter how much Gohan and his mother insisted it was important, math was really stupid—like nothing mattered. This was the most important thing in the world.

The androids were not going to destroy this again. If it killed him, Trunks would make sure of that.

---

Once again, it was immediately apparent that something was wrong.

Seventeen and Eighteen were in no great hurry to get to Goku. Not that Sixteen felt any sense of urgency himself—after all, it mattered not when the found their target; he could die at any time—but at least he wasn't...dawdling.

Driving was an ineffective method of transport. Roads did not run straight, and the land was not a flat surface across which to move. Vehicles were only designed to achieve certain amounts of speed, for regular humans could only go so fast before it was dangerous to them. Sixteen estimated that by utilizing this...truck that they were in, they were multiplying the amount of time their trip would take by several times.

And Goku was moving. Flying, it seemed. With several other people, including three that had been on the highway earlier. Sixteen experienced an instant of satisfaction to find out that they were still alive, before turning his processors to more important things.

According to his internal maps, Goku was currently moving over an ocean. Even Seventeen and Eighteen had to admit that there would be no following him in a land vehicle. He should put a stop to this right now, get out and make them fly after Goku. They could reach him in less than an hour.

And yet, he did not. Given the obvious problems his fellow androids were experiencing, Sixteen did not think it wise to trust them to perpetrate such an important act at the moment. He would have to monitor them for a while longer. Perhaps he could correct the malfunction.

All very rational, logical reasons for remaining silent. The appreciation he felt for the fact that Gohan and his friends would not be hurt again so soon was merely a collateral experience, not related to his decision in the least.

They were not Goku. Their pain was preventable. At least, Sixteen wanted it to be.

He sat in the back of the truck, ignoring the idle chatter of the other androids, and pondered pain.

---

His arm and shoulder hurt quite a bit by now. It was probably being made worse by the fact that he was laying on it, but Gohan had feeling that, were he to shift and switch arms, he wouldn't be able to hold the pencil in his left hand. And then Trunks would notice, and everyone else would know if five seconds, because the man from the future couldn't keep his mouth shut.

They had to worry about Goku now, not him. His dad was the one who was sick and needed people to be with him and take care of him. His mom and everyone would just waste their attention by paying it to him instead of the person who needed it. So he could stay quiet. It was just a little pain. He had felt worse, lots of times.

Trunks was still working on the second page of problems. Gohan had explained the whole concept to him, but it was pretty clear that he would end up having to give him all the answers. That was fine, but he wanted Trunks to try first. He was aware that the time traveler had come from a post-apocalyptic world where everyone was dead, and that it probably hadn't been of the utmost importance that he understand the concept of X to the Y.

It would have been so much easier just to assume the other half-Saiyan stupid and move on.

But he couldn't, and that was confusing. The stupidity option was more obvious, easier, and thus required less thought. And yet Gohan was finding it impossible to even consider that as a realistic explanation. But if he assumed that Trunks wasn't stupid here, than didn't he have to go back and reassess all the other things he'd done to which Gohan had attributed the same reason? And if he had to do that...

His dad interrupted his thoughts by shouting. Loudly. Gohan's breath caught and he closed his eyes. The shout dissolved into a series of piteous moans, sounding as though they were coming from some wounded animal. Gohan kept his eyes closed and worked to breathe normally.

This wasn't right. Goku shouldn't be sick like this. The medicine was supposed to be making him better. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that Goku should be dying of some stupid disease. It wasn't fair that Gohan should have to be here, wondering if he was going to lose a parent. Again.

And at the same time as all of that, a part of Gohan was also thinking that maybe Goku deserved this a little bit. For what he'd done, or rather, hadn't done. For two hours. And he felt bad about thinking that, because he really didn't want his dad to die. But it was so hard not to be mad at him.

"It's okay, Mom. It's okay." It really wasn't okay, but what was he supposed to say? He was eight. He wasn't a doctor. He didn't know what to do. There was so much blood.

Chi-Chi didn't answer anyway. He was sure she was alive, at least; her heart had been beating when he put a hand to her chest. How long would that last? Gohan didn't know. He had to get help.

But he couldn't leave her alone. What if something happened? How was he going to get his Dad here without leaving her?

Stupid! He was such an idiot. He just had to flare his energy. Goku would notice that. Why had it taken him so long to come up with it? He was so stupid.

It took him a few minutes to remember how to make his energy work. Once he finally remembered how to do it, Gohan took hold of himself and powered up as much as he could, holding it for almost a full minute before allowing himself to return to his normal level. "It's okay, Mom. Dad's coming."

Nothing happened. His father did not instantly transmit to his side.

He tried it again. It was pretty reasonable that Goku wouldn't just teleport in for one little power spike. It was okay. Gohan would just do it again.

And again.

And again.

"He's coming, I promise. You'll be okay." Goku would have to notice eventually. Have to come eventually. He had to sense that his son was calling for him. He had to. He would come. "I promise."

Again.

And again.

"Gohan?" It was the hand on his shoulder that brought him out of it, made him realize that he'd been laying there crying for the past goodness knew how long. Nobody else seemed to have noticed, though. Goku was still moaning.

He forced himself to stop before looking up at Trunks. "I-I'm fine.” He choked as quietly as he could. Trunks looked so worried, it was impossible to be annoyed at him.

"You're not fine." The man was being mercifully quiet as well. "Why are you lying to me?"

"I-it doesn't matter. I'll be alright." It did matter, and he didn't know if he would be alright, but he didn't need Trunks trying to comfort him right now. "It's not a big deal."

"It's a big deal to me, Gohan. Tell me what's wrong, please."

The younger half-Saiyan shook his head and looked back down at the book. Trunks reached over after a second and put a hand on his chin, raising his head back up. "Gohan, your lips are blue."

As if triggered by that statement, he started shivering. Gohan hadn't noticed how chilly the plane was. "I'm cold." He wasn't dressed very warmly; his shirt didn't even have sleeves. Maybe he should ask his mom to dig out one of the sweaters she had packed.

Trunks let his face go and shifted around. Gohan let his head fall back down. A moment later something fell on top of him and it took him a minute to realize it was a coat, not at all unlike the one in his bottom dresser drawer. "I don't need..."

"I don't care. Come here." Trunks didn't give him a chance to refuse; he reached across the book and seized Gohan under the arms, dragging the boy over to sit beside him. Gohan felt warmer already, both outside and inside.

"Now." Trunks leaned down and picked up the algebra book. "Tell me if I did this right."

"Yeah..." Gohan worked his arms into the sleeves of the jacket and took the book. Maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe he did need someone to make him feel better. Even if it was Trunks.

He leaned in closer and looked at the book. It was easier to concentrate now.

---

"Come on, old man. You and I both know it's the only way!"

Kami sighed. Wise as he was sometimes, Piccolo was still a child. "I am not yet ready to conclude that, son. I must have time to think about it."

"I am not your son, and while you're thinking about it, people will be dying! The people you're supposed to protect. Or have you forgotten that in your senility?"

The old Namek turned away from his other half. "I must contemplate the consequences of leaving the Earth with no Guardian. It is a very important decision."

"Oh, spare me the melodrama. What have you done lately anyway? The Earth has got plenty of guardians, or haven't you noticed?" Piccolo snorted. "You're just afraid."

"That is not true." The Guardian of the Earth was not afraid of something so mundane as death. But certainly, deciding whether it was time to end his own life was no small decision, and just as certainly it was one he would rather put off.

However. It was possible that Piccolo was right. Perhaps it was the only way. He had observed the battle with the androids from the Lookout, and the outcome had been...disturbing. Not only for what had happened to poor Gohan, but also for how soundly all the people whose strength he relied on to protect the planet had been defeated. Would Goku have made a difference, had he been there? It could be that he would have, but even Kami was unsure of how long it would take him to recover from his illness, assuming he did.

And there was more trouble brewing besides. He wasn't sure what it was exactly, but there was some other power growing down there. He had been feeling it for the last several years, and had assumed it was the androids when he'd heard about them, but...now that they were active as well, Kami was certain that this presence he was feeling was something else altogether. It was proving strangely hard to track down or identify, but it was...strangely familiar. Kami sensed dark times ahead for his beloved Earth.

If he loved it as much as he claimed to, shouldn't he gladly sacrifice his own life to protect it? Of course. But there were other considerations as well. "The Dragonballs will vanish, you realize that?"

"They won't be any help if there's nobody alive to use them."

"Yes, of course." He tried to decide if any part of his indecision in this was worry over giving over all of his power to his former dark side. After all, together they would be far more than the sum of their parts. Likely not, he thought. Piccolo was no longer like that.

Still, it was a hard decision. "Allow me some time to think, Piccolo."

"Fine. A few hours, no more." Piccolo stormed off and floated into a meditative position some on the other side of the Lookout.

A few hours. To decide whether it was in the best interest of the Earth for its Guardian to allow his own passing.

Still impatient. Still a child.

---

But for the fact that it would have been monstrously undignified and unbecoming of someone of his age and intellect, Gero would have screamed.

He had been left on a table. Alone, half a foot from the Capsule Corp. computer. He would have assumed that Bulma Briefs was trying to drive him insane had he not thought that she was simply an idiot.

Had whatever had been in that message been more important than the upcoming end of humankind? Gero thought not, but she had certainly left in a hurry after receiving it.

If only he had limbs! If only he had anything in addition to a head! Gero cursed Seventeen with every fibre of his diminished being. He had no idea the repercussions of what he had done. As soon as Gero got a body back, he would disassemble both of those idiotic machines and use them for scrap metal.

Unfortunately, for now he, the most intelligent man in the world, was at the mercy of fools, waiting for one of them to hook him up to a computer. Five minutes was all it would take, but no, Bulma had to run off like the airhead she was. Undoubtedly to buy shoes, or some such nonsense.

Gero would not allow himself to be perturbed by this. He was an adult, and fully capable of waiting for his goals. He had waited almost two decades to destroy Goku, after all. He could wait a few hours to destroy his androids.

"Damn you, woman! Your stupidity will burn the world!" Yes, he most assuredly wasn't going to be bothered by such a thing as this.

"Hello?" The door had slid open while Gero had been yelling. "Is someone in here?"

The disembodied head smiled. Perfect. "Dr. Briefs, over here."

"What? Over where?" Briefs wandered into the room, hands in his pockets and cat on his shoulder. "Who's here?"

"On your daughter's desk, you insufferable fool!"

"Hm? Ah, Dr. Gero! What are you doing there?"

Somehow disturbed by the thought that Dr. Briefs wasn't concerned to find a mechanical head in his laboratory, Gero took a moment to answer. "I am here to lend my assistance. If you could..."

"Ah assistance, is it? Is this about those androids Bulma's been talking about? You really should talk to her, you know. I'll go find her for you. Bulma!" He turned and began to leave the lab.

"She's not here!" Gero roared, hoping that would get this simple idiot's attention. It did. Briefs turned again and started to ask a question, undoubtedly a stupid one, and Gero cut him off. "Now pay attention to me. If I'm to assist you in any way, I will need to be hooked up to your computer. As you can see, I'm rather lacking in body parts at the moment."

"Oh, yes. You are, aren't you? I wonder how that happened? Would you like me to make you a new body? I'm no expert in robotics, but I think I have some spare parts left over from when I fixed the oven last month. I could..."

"No, that will not be necessary." The last thing Gero needed was to spend the rest of his life with the ability to bake cakes in his chest. "All I require is access to your computer."

"I'm not so sure if that's a good idea." Briefs appeared thoughtful, not a common expression on his face. "I mean, aren't you the one whose behind all of this androids business? And you built that Red Ribbon army way back when as well, didn't you? I've never quite trusted you since university, when I caught you cheating on that nanorobotics exam."

"I was not cheating." If the professors left the answers in their computers where anybody could hack into them, it was hardly an illicit affair. "And yes, I have made some...poor decisions in the past. But I have changed, Dr. Briefs." This should be just the ticket. These happy, save-the-world types always went for the sob stories. "I've realized the error of my ways, and now I wish to repent! But the only thing I can do is show you how to stop my androids. Please, do let me become a good person?" Had Gero a gastrointestinal system, he would have probably vomited just then.

"Oh, I'm not so sure. Why don't you just tell me what to do? I'm not bad at building things, you know. Why, did my daughter tell you that I've built spaceships? Three of them! Well, only two, really, I just fixed the first one, but I got them halfway across the galaxy!"

Gero took a deep breath—well, he made the motions of taking a deep breath, as he had no lungs—before speaking again. "That's very fascinating, Dr. Briefs." And he was also already aware of it. "I should love to see these ships to admire your expert handiwork."

"Oh, I'm afraid they were all destroyed. Space, you know. It's a dangerous place."

Gero knew that as well. "I've heard. A pity. Do you perhaps have the blueprints? That would be something to see."

"Hmm..." Briefs scratched his chin and looked around the lab as though they were lying on a table somewhere all these years later. "No, I don't believe so, though they should be on the computer. Though I'm not sure..."

Perfect. It was really quite sad that one of the century's most brilliant minds was such an idiot. "Perhaps I could locate them for you?"

"Well...I suppose a few minutes couldn't hurt." Briefs fished a cord from his coat pocket—what kind of person carried these things around?—and then attached it to the computer on his desk, moving then to carry Gero across to rest in front of the monitor. "Now, where do I put this..."

"There is an access port on the back of my...No! That is my ear, you imbecile! Down one inch. Yes, there."

Success. He was connected to the Capsule Corp. computer network. He shouldn't have been so surprised; everything was simple when one was a genius. He found and pulled up the files on the spacecraft Briefs had built, as though he gave a damn, and downloaded while he was there the information on how to build the controller that would destroy Seventeen and Eighteen. As well, of course, as one other little program, which he hid in the background where it would go unnoticed until it activated. "So, do tell. How did you manage to break the light barrier?"

---

Gohan had fallen asleep. He was sitting upright, still wearing the jacket Trunks had given him, leaning against the time traveler's chest with his eyes closed. He had been in the middle of explaining something—Trunks had no idea what, because he hadn't been listening to anything but the sound of his teacher's voice—and he'd fallen asleep, just like that.

It was adorable.

Trunks was not an idiot, despite the mountain of evidence he'd been piling up to the contrary of late. He knew that whatever had been bothering the boy hadn't gone anywhere and that they would have to talk about it eventually. But for now he was just happy to sit here with Gohan sleeping beside him. Like this, he could almost convince himself that everything was going to be okay.

Almost. No amount of happy feelings would change the fact that the androids were out there looking for them, or the differences in their strength to that of the Earth's warriors. They had to come up with something new, something that could beat them.

Glancing at Goku, resting quietly now, Trunks sincerely hoped that the Saiyan warrior was every bit as powerful as his mother and Gohan had always told him, and more. He didn't know what to believe. The only two people he'd ever loved had both believed that Goku was the strongest person ever to live, but Trunks couldn't make himself share that certainty. In his experience, nobody was stronger than the androids. Ever.

He unconsciously drew Gohan closer to him as he thought. Nobody was looking at them anyway, and it wasn't like there was anything strange about Gohan taking a nap beside him. No big deal. Still, it was nice that nobody was looking.

He treasured these quiet moments alone with Gohan. The age gap between them had been just as pronounced in the future, and so he and Gohan had never been able to kiss, hug or show any sort of affection beyond the brotherly kind unless they were alone. He had learned how to be content with what time they were able to be together, but he had always looked forward to the day when he would be an adult and it wouldn't matter. Now that would never happen, thanks to the androids.

They had to find a way to beat them, they just had to. He wondered if his mother was having any luck with Dr. Gero.

"Hey, there it is!" Yamcha called up from the front, and the plane shuddered as it started to descend.

"Gohan." Trunks said with regret, shaking the boy a bit. "Hey, wake up, kiddo. We're here."

The younger half-Saiyan blinked his eyes open. "Huh? What..."

"You fell asleep, Gohan. We're at Master Roshi's."

Gohan started suddenly and leapt to his feet. "I'm sorry!" He said, his breath coming in fits. He rubbed his arms and looked down at the coat he was wearing, and shrugged out of it. "I-I didn't mean to..."

"It's okay, Gohan." Trunks stood and pulled the jacket back up on the boy's shoulder. "It's okay to be tired." Poor kid. Nobody that young should have to have all this happen. Trunks would know. The plane rumbled and nearly tossed them from their feet as it landed.

"No. I'm not...here." He forced his arms out of the sleeves and stepped away from the jacket, leaving Trunks with it in his hands. The plane's hatch cracked and Gohan jumped out before it was fully open.

"Gohan!" Chi-Chi was standing right beside him, but clearly the boy was already gone. She rounded on Trunks. "What happened?"

"I have no idea, Chi-Chi." And that was the truth. For a few minutes there Gohan had seemed fine, and then he'd just...stopped. It was like he was trying to be upset about whatever it was.

The boy's mother sighed. "He's just so worried about his father, and all of this android nonsense on top. I knew I should have made him stay at home." She shook her head. "Come over here and help Yamcha lift Goku into the house."

"Oh, right." Trunks was willing to let Chi-Chi think that it was just stress that was Gohan's problem, like he had thought before, but he knew better. There was something else. And he intended to find out what it was.

Gohan was standing on the beach when they emerged from the plane, talking to a turtle, a pig and a flying cat. Trunks did a double-take to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Yes, the boy was having a conversation with sentient animals. If it could be called a conversation; he was mostly just looking down at the ground and half-answering their questions.

"Oh, thank heavens you're all alright!" Carrying the makeshift stretcher, Trunks turned his gaze to the island's only structure, a pink beachhouse, upon the threshold of which stood an old man who could only be Master Roshi. He hurried over to them, leaning over Goku and inspecting him. "Poor boy. Put him upstairs, he'll be comfortable there."

Trunks helped Yamcha carry Goku into the house, through the cluttered living room and up the narrow staircase, finally depositing him in a bed in one of the house's two bedrooms. Chi-Chi followed them up and after they had put Goku down, began rearranging all of the blankets and pillows and fussing with the blinds. Satisfied that he had done all he could here, Trunks followed Yamcha back downstairs.

Gohan, the strangely verbal animals, Krillin and Roshi were seated around a coffee table, and the bald man was halfway through telling everyone what had been happening. Trunks sat beside Gohan and pretended not to notice when the boy shifted the other way just slightly, moving closer to the pig.

"And then the big scary guy just gave me a Senzu bean and they all flew off. It was the weirdest thing! But I mean, we all would've been finished if it weren't for him, so I don't know..."

"Hm. I never could have imagined anything could be that powerful." Roshi mused. "What could Dr. Gero have been thinking, building something like that?"

"He wasn't. That's the problem." Chi-Chi announced from the stairs as she came down. "It's the same problem all of you have; he was thinking with his muscles instead of his brain. All of the world's problems come from men like that!"

"But...Chi-Chi, Dr. Gero was a scrawny old man. He didn't have muscles." The pig pointed out.

Chi-Chi punched him in the top of the head as she walked by to sit down in the chair. "Shut up, Oolong. Nobody wants to hear your opinion. Goku's comfortable." She reported. "He seems to be sleeping a little easier now."

"That's a relief." Roshi said, taking off his sunglasses and cleaning them on his shirt before replacing them. Trunks wondered if it was really so bright in here that the old man felt he needed them, or if they were supposed to be some kind of fashion statement. Roshi continued. "With as strong as it sounds like these androids are, I don't think we'll be able to win without Goku's strength."

"Yeah, no kidding." Yamcha put in. "I mean, everyone got beat and the androids didn't even get a scratch on them? That's pretty hardcore stuff. We definitely need Goku for this one."

"How long does this medicine of yours take to work, Trunks?" Krillin asked, and all heads turned to him.

And as always, he was ready with a brilliant answer. "Uh..." Beside him, Gohan snorted quietly. "A couple of days, I think."

"Days?" Oolong the pig shouted. "We don't have days! The androids will come right here when they get to Goku's house and he's not there!"

"Calm down, you." Roshi said. "Nobody knows where my island is. They'll never find us here."

"Yeah, but that's not good either, Master." Krillin pointed out. "If they can't find Goku, they'll probably just start destroying everything they see."

There was a loud silence. Krillin was right, of course. Seventeen and Eighteen would grow bored of looking futilely for Goku. And when they were bored, people died. "Damn."

Gohan made a sighing noise and, still looking down at the floor, said, "Why don't we just find the Dragonballs and wish for Dad to be better?"

The silence that followed this stretched so long that Gohan looked up and around the room. Everyone was probably thinking about how stupid they were and how good it was that Gohan was here. Well, that's what Trunks was thinking, anyway.

"Yes!" Chi-Chi announced, standing. "That's much better than just sitting around for days waiting for the medicine to work. No offence, Trunks."

"Hold on, Chi-Chi." Krillin held up a hand. "I'm not so sure that will work. Will Shenron grant a wish like that? I mean, sickness is a natural thing, right? I don't think the Dragon's really big on going against nature."

"Well, he'll just have to get over that! It's his job to grant wishes, isn't it? Where does he get off making stupid rules like that?"

"But wait." Yamcha sounded excited. "Why don't we just ask the Dragon to destroy the androids?"

"Woah, that didn't work with Vegeta and Nappa, remember? Shenron couldn't do it." Roshi wagged a finger. "He can't do anything that exceeds his creator's power."

"They're just machines." Gohan's voice was dull. "Ask the Dragon to turn them off."

"Yeah! Gero's with Mom right now telling her how to build something that will do that. There must be come kind of off switch, or auto-destruct, or something to stop them with!" Hope soared inside Trunks. After everything, could it really be this easy?

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Roshi demanded, pointing at the phone on the table behind them. "Get Bulma on the horn and find out how she's doing. If she thinks it going to take more than a few hours, tell her to bring her radar over here and we'll go get the Dragonballs instead!"

"Right." Krillin leapt over all of them and bounded to the phone. Some dialing and an uncomfortable amount of waiting later, he said, "Hi, this is Krillin. May I speak with Bulma, please? It's really important." He frowned. "Are you sure? Uh, okay. Thanks."

He hung up the phone and Yamcha said. "What's wrong?"

"She's not home. Her mom said she's coming here."

Gohan sighed again. "Why?" Trunks asked. "She couldn't be done the controller already."

"Something must be wrong." Gohan said, standing. "I'm gonna go outside for a while."

"Well, I'm going to make lunch." Chi-Chi declared. "I'll call you when it's ready, Gohan."

"Okay." Trunks tracked the boy with his eyes as he left the house, closing the door carefully after him.

"Poor boy." Roshi said quietly after both mother and son had left. "All this is hard enough; imagine doing it at his age." He shook his head sadly.

Trunks stood. "I'm going to go talk to him."

"Woah, Trunks. Are you sure that's a good idea?" Krillin asked. "I mean, it didn't really seem to go well when you tried at his house earlier."

"It's okay; I think I might know what the problem is." Well, that was a bit of a lie. A lot of a lie. But Trunks was resolved to find out what was wrong with his teacher. It obviously was something to do with him, and he couldn't fix it without knowing what it was. He just couldn't stand to see Gohan in pain like that any longer. He had to fix it. "Trust me."

"Well, if you're sure. He seems pretty upset, but if you really think you can help..."

"I think I can. I'll be back." Trunks left the house as well, looking around the outside. Gohan was nowhere to be found, but his footprints in the sand led around the back of the house.

He found the boy sitting on the beach, staring out at the ocean, knees drawn up to his chest. "Gohan?"

He didn't answer, didn't give any indication that he'd heard. "Gohan, are you alright?"

"No. I really don't want to talk to you right now, Trunks. Please leave me alone."

"No!" Trunks sat down beside the boy. "Gohan, something is bothering you and nobody can help you if you don't tell us what's wrong. Tell me what the problem is, Gohan."

"You're the problem! Go away, Trunks! I said I don't want to talk to you."

"I don't care if you don't want to talk. You're going to anyway. You have a problem, and keeping it inside you like that it just going to make it worse."

"You make it worse every time you talk to me. Please, just go away." He didn't sound angry anymore, just tired now. The boy buried his head in his arms, refusing to look at Trunks.

"Look, whatever I did to upset you I'm sorry, but I honestly have no idea what. Give me a hint, or something?" He attempted some kind of levity, but it didn't really lighten the mood at all.

"You didn't do anything! Just stop. There's nothing you can do now, it's too late."

Trunks sensed that there was a hint in there somewhere, but damned if he could decipher it. "Gohan, you can't do this to me. I need to do something. I love you."

"Don't! Don't say that, Trunks." Gohan's voice caught and he paused, taking short, shallow breaths. "It's not true. Stop lying to me."

"It's not a lie! Gohan, I love you! I came back because I wanted to save you! I'm telling you the truth."

"Not true. It's not true. You're lying again. Stop lying." He was rocking back and forth like a baby, as if the motion would somehow distract him from what he was hearing.

In a flash of insight Trunks realized what was wrong. He put a hand on Gohan's arm and stopped the rocking. "Listen, is this because I'm a guy? Or because I'm older than you? I know it seems weird, but..."

"That's not it." Gohan stood, forcing Trunks to let go of him. "You're so stupid, Trunks. You're just..." He shook his head and walked away at a near run, though he only went ten paces to the water's edge.

Trunks was completely at a loss now. He genuinely had no idea what was wrong with Gohan, and the boy clearly didn't want to tell him. He felt like he should have figured it out by now, as though it were something obvious that he was just overlooking, but he wasn't very good at this sort of thing. Gohan was.

What should he do? It was clear Gohan wanted to be left alone. But...whenever he'd been in a temper as a kid, Gohan had never let him be alone. And though he'd often yelled at his teacher for it, looking back, Trunks appreciated it. He would show Gohan the same courtesy. This obviously wasn't a problem he could solve by himself, or else he would have already.

He didn't touch Gohan this time, just walked up to where he was and stood beside him. They looked out at the ocean together in silence for a few minutes. Well, Trunks looked. Gohan's eyes were closed; there were tear tracks on his cheeks and he looked to be trying to stop any more from falling.

"Gohan..."

"You left. You left, Trunks." Gohan sniffed, wiping his eyes on his arm. "You said you loved me, and you...and we did all that...stuff. And then I woke up and you were gone."

"W-what?" Of course he'd been gone. Gohan hadn't expected him to stay...he couldn't have. He had to have known Trunks would leave. "I ...I had to go back..."

"I know!" Gohan sobbed. Yes, it was definitely a sob. His forearm was still over his eyes, but there could be no doubt he was crying again. "I know that. I knew that. I just...I just...didn't expect to wake up..." A long pause, and Gohan said in a small voice, "You never said goodbye to me."

Trunks had been expecting the big reveal to be a bit more dramatic, and it took him a moment to process what he'd heard. His mind went blank. He hadn't known what to expect, but it wasn't this. "But...I did." Frantically casting his thoughts back to that night, Trunks scoured his memory to make sure. Yes, he had tucked Gohan into his bed, kissed him, said goodbye and left. He was certain of it. "You were sleeping."

Sniffing, Gohan said nothing. And continued to say nothing, until Trunks wondered if the boy had even heard him. "Gohan..."

"I know! I-I know it's stupid, okay? I'm just...just being dumb. Just a dumb little kid. I know."

"No." Trunks moved around to be in front of Gohan, pulling his arms away from his face. "You're just exhausted and overwhelmed. And it's my fault." And he was feeling supremely guilty for his part in bringing those feelings about. What had he been thinking, that night? Gohan had been a kid. Was still a kid. And Trunks had tried to make him into an ideal, adult version of himself. It was no surprise that he had hurt the boy in the process. He was the dumb kid, not Gohan.

"Listen." He continued. "I can't even tell you how sorry I am for what I did to you. I was wrong, and I understand why you're mad at me. If I could do anything to fix it, I would. But, Gohan, I wasn't lying to you that night. I love you. I always will. And if you want me to stay away from you from now on, I will, I promise." As much as it would hurt him, he would do that if it was what Gohan wanted. Gohan deserved that much.

"I don't...I don't know. What I want. I..." Gohan stopped, seeming to be trying to get himself under control. He was still looking down at the sand. When he resumed, he didn't seem to be crying any more. "I think I love you." Trunks felt his heart lift just a bit. Maybe, somehow, things would be okay. "But I just don't know. I want to. I want to love you. But..." Now he finally looked up, meeting the time traveler’s eye. "Trunks, I think I hate you."

Gohan started crying again, burying his face in his arm once more. Trunks felt his whole body go numb. Even expecting it, those were the worst words he had ever heard in his life. He took a small, involuntary step back.

"C-can you please leave me alone now?"

"I..."

"Trunks! Y-you said you'd leave if I wanted you to. Go away. Please."

"Yeah. Okay." He didn't even know if Gohan heard the monotone of his voice. He walked past the boy towards the house, thinking as he passed to put a hand on Gohan's shoulder or something, but deciding against it. He looked back when he reached the corner of the house, just looked for a moment at Gohan, standing there on the beach by himself, broken. He took another step and put the boy out of his sight.

Another few steps and then Trunks started to cry. He steadied himself on the house, resisting the urge to punch a hole in the pink wood.

But he only allowed himself a moment of selfishness. He had to go back inside, plan a strategy. Save the world. Save Gohan's world. Even if he didn't deserve a place in it.

---

He couldn't recall ever being this mad at anyone. Chiaotzu was not predisposed to anger—unlike some people he could mention—and had always found it hard to remain mad at anyone for more than a few moments. He liked to rationalize, come up with reasons why people were doing the things that he didn't like, which then made it easier to forgive them. Even when he'd been killed—both times—he hadn't held grudges against those who had done it. After all, they had just been doing what they thought they were supposed to do, that was all.

Being able to read minds helped to remind him that other people had motivations as well.

And he had never been mad at Tien. he couldn't recall a single time when he had been for more than a second or two.

Until now. He didn't even want to look at the other man. When they had gotten home, Tien had muttered something about going to train and disappeared gone off, probably expecting his friend to make him lunch. Chiaotzu had followed him instead, meditating in the waterfall while Tien was off some distance away running through forms.

Not that he was paying any attention to what the other was doing, of course.

Chiaotzu wasn't really meditating, not for real. He couldn't, not feeling like this. He was just using it as an excuse not to speak to Tien, in the inevitable event that his friend stopped being stupid and came over to apologize. When that happened, Chiaotzu fully planned on ignoring him.

And it should be any minute now. After all, the silence must be driving Tien as crazy as it was him, right? Wouldn't he rather just yell about it and then get over it? That was what people were supposed to do when they fought. Any minute now.

It was very tempting to just reach out, into Tien's mind, see what he was thinking. See just how guilty he felt. But he wouldn't do that. He didn't need to. It wouldn't be much longer before the other man came and told him how guilty he felt, and that would be more satisfying.

As if on cue, Chiaotzu felt Tien's energy moving closer to him—again, not that he had been keeping an eye on what Tien was doing or anything. In any case, the other man approached the waterfall, hesitated for a minute and came under the water, flying up to a position close to Chiaotzu and taking the meditative pose.

Saying nothing.

Chiaotzu stayed perfectly still, not letting his impatience show. There was no way Tien would come over, knowing full well how mad his friend was at him, only to sit there and pretend like everything was normal. He was just collecting his thoughts, that was all.

Or, more likely, he was waiting for Chiaotzu to break down and say something first. Well, that wasn't going to happen. He could stay in the stupid waterfall all day and not say a thing.

He was not wrong. Tien was the one who needed to apologize, not him. Tien was the one who had acted like an idiot. Chiaotzu was in the right; he had saved Tien's life.

And he bloody well wasn't going to apologize for it.

---

Years passed. Hours, days, minutes. Gohan had no idea. It was all the same anyway; time. Too much of it. There was no way. Another second and she'd be dead. Another second. His mom was going to die if she didn't get help.

And she wasn't getting help.

Gohan didn't know what to do. He didn't know first aid. He had read that when someone was bleeding they weren't supposed to be moved in case it got worse, so he couldn't take her to a hospital, even if there was one near. Anyone he called would never get there in time. Except his dad. Who wasn't coming.

He had gone numb from raising his energy over and over again. He thought he was still doing it, but he couldn't even sense himself anymore. Goku had to notice eventually. He must have realized by now that something was wrong with his son. He had to notice...

Of course, maybe he had noticed. Maybe he just didn't care.

Somebody had to come eventually. Someone would have to notice. If not his dad, then Piccolo, Krillin, even Yamcha. Someone. Even Vegeta. Trunks...anybody.

Chi-Chi was as limp as a blanket in his arms, and pale as a blank canvas. Her face was wet where Gohan's tears had fallen on it. It made it look like she was crying too.

He made a straining noise as he powered up again, though he didn't hear himself. It was getting harder and harder to do. He was so tired. What if he passed out from the effort? His mother would die, that was what. He prepared to do it again.

A wave of pain rushed over him as he filled his body with energy. Not immensely painful, but it still hurt more than it should. A burning that ran through his body as part of the power he was drawing on. Some small part of Gohan's mind wondered just how many times he could burn himself before the fire burned him up.

It didn't matter. There was nothing else he could do. What happened to him didn't matter. He opened himself up to the fire again.

A few more searing surges of power and suddenly the fire slipped from Gohan's control completely, raging unbound against the inside of his body. He vaguely heard himself shouting, as though through a wall. He was in a dark room, watching the fire get bigger and bigger, blinding him to everything else. Blinding him to himself.

"Gohan? What's going on? I can feel your energy from..." But he couldn't hear his father's voice, couldn't hear anything over the screaming of the flames. "Gohan! Oh, no!"

And the fire consumed him.

A different kind of fire seemed to burn at his chest as Gohan pushed the memory away fiercely with a shake of his head. The tears that had been clinging to his skin flew off his face and landed in the water, but more replaced them. He needed to get a hold of himself. Focus on now, not on the past. Put it in the box.

But he couldn't. The box wasn't working. There was too much. It was just...

He sat for hours. Gohan had woken up after only ten or fifteen minutes in the hospital his dad had taken them to, and was told that the doctors had taken Chi-Chi away for surgery. Goku paced around the waiting room they had been put in, but Gohan just sat in the corner beside a big chair, knees pulled up to his chest. He hadn't moved since he had sat down. He was still wearing the same bloodstained clothes.

Goku had told him about how he had felt his energy spike huge all of the sudden and come home to check on him, and had found both of them on the floor. Gohan had half-listened and, telling his dad that he didn't feel like talking right then, managed to end the conversation. He had a feeling that if it had gone on, he would have started screaming and not stopped.

The clock on the waiting room wall said that he'd probably been on the floor with his mother for almost two hours. Two hours for his dad to get there. Two hours to notice that something was wrong. It had been another three now, since he had been sitting here. Surely it couldn't be taking this long unless something was really wrong. Maybe it was too late. If only Goku had come home sooner! If only Gohan had paid more attention, maybe this wouldn't have happened at all.

He couldn't decide who he wanted to blame more. His dad or himself.

The waiting room door opened and Gohan looked up dully as an old man in a white coat came in. Chi-Chi's doctor. Goku raced over to him, but Gohan stayed where he was in the corner.

"Doctor, what's happening? Is she okay?"

"Yes, your wife is going to be alright." He still didn't move, but Gohan felt relief flood him. They hadn't been too late. "It's a good thing you got here when you did. She was bleeding internally and would have died if we hadn't transfused her immediately. And that was before the surgery."

"That's great, but...what was wrong with her?" Gohan knew he should get up at this point, because it was really unlikely that Goku would understand what the doctor said. But he stayed where he was anyway.

"She suffered a hemorrhage and miscarriage as a result of something called a cervical ectopic pregnancy, which means that..."

"Chi-Chi's pregnant? Why didn't she tell me?" Gohan didn't say anything. He didn't know what 'cervical ectopic' was, but he knew what 'hemorrhage' and 'miscarriage' meant. He felt his body start to go numb.

"She may not have known about it herself yet; she was only a few weeks along. Unfortunately, the fetus wasn't in the uterus as is normal, and the pregnancy wasn't viable."

"What does that mean?"

"It means she lost the baby, dad." The doctor's head whipped around; clearly he hadn't known Gohan was there. The boy didn't even look up from the floor.

There was a picture hanging in their living room, right above the couch. It was of his mom and dad smiling on a hospital bed, and she was holding their newborn son, him. Chi-Chi always said that she wished it was just Goku and Gohan in the picture, since she thought she looked awful in it. But even though there were a million baby pictures of him, that was the one that was framed in the living room. He had noticed, now that he thought about it, that his mom had been stopping to look at that picture a lot more often in the last week or so.

Gohan could feel tears falling on his forearms where he had them wrapped around his legs. It was the only thing he could feel.

"Is that true, doctor? That's horrible."

"Yes, I'm afraid your son is right. I'm very sorry. And I'm sorry too for talking about this in front of him, I didn't realize he was there."

"It's okay, Gohan's a big boy. He'll be okay. Can I see Chi-Chi?"

He didn't feel like a big boy. She had known. She had known she was pregnant, or at least suspected. She had tried to tell Goku that morning, and who knew how many other times before that. If they had listened to her, if Goku had stayed behind for ten minutes, they could have taken her to a doctor right away, and this wouldn't have happened. If they had listened.

He was trying to be quiet, but the sounds of his sniffling and shallow breathing as he tried not to start bawling like the baby his parents weren't going to have drowned out everything else.

Nothing. That memory had nothing to do with now. His dad being sick wasn't even kind of the same as what had happened to him mom and the baby. There was no reason at all for him to be thinking of that now. He was being stupid. He needed to calm down, put everything back in the box and go inside before anyone else came out to see what was wrong with him.

But he couldn't. The numbness that he'd felt in the hospital had come back alongside the burning from the house, spreading through the parts of him that weren't on fire. He couldn't feel his legs, right arm or head; they might as well have not existed.

And the rest of him hurt. His chest, into his left shoulder where the androids had hurt him, most of the way down that arm. It felt like he was being poked with a thousand needles over and over. Every time he moved it got worse, even when he took breath. He breathing was getting shallower and his vision was starting to go fuzzy.

This was all because of Trunks. If the other half-Saiyan had just left him alone he would have been able to get over this before it got worse. But no, he'd had to come and bug Gohan, because that's what he did. It was all his fault.

But why, then, was Gohan wishing he was here right now?

One of the thousand needles became a knife, stabbing him directly in the heart. "Ah!" Gohan fell to his knees, clutching his chest instinctively. He managed to throw one hand out to stop himself from plunging his face into the wet sand. Some small part of him thought that he should try to move back, that it wasn't safe to be this close to the water, but he couldn't move anyway.

Rather than subsiding after appearing, the pain only got worse, spreading as the needles had to the rest of his chest and shoulder. Every time his heart pumped, or tried to, it got worse, as though the knife were being shoved in further and further, being twisted, tearing through muscle, shattering him to pieces.

He wanted to scream out in pain but he couldn't. There was no air. Oh, he was sure there was air somewhere, but he couldn't remember how to get it into his body. Either the world was sideways all of the sudden, or he had fallen over. Gohan could see the ocean water, so close to his face.

His vision went completely black and finally the pain started to subside. But in leaving, it was taking him with it.

In a last flash of coherence Gohan realized that this was how his dad had felt after he'd fought his brother and saved Gohan years ago. Maybe it was how he was feeling now. It was how Chi-Chi had felt that day as she lay on the kitchen floor.

This was what it felt like to die.

---

End

---

Um... hopefully the next chapter will be faster?
- 6
- 7
- 8
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

His teacher