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The last gasp of strength in Gohan is not enough. The last thought he has is of his failure, and the combined power of both blasts collide with him and the entire Earth.
There is a moment so bright and hot it feels like the birth of a new sun, but once the glow fades there is nothing but rubble.
Cell has won. He has fulfilled his creator's purpose, killed the insolent brat who had nearly done him in, and destroyed an entire planet.
He is giddy with triumph, exultant. Relieved, too, even if his ego prevents him from acknowledging it. He has cemented his place as the perfect being. And yet there is one question, echoing within his mind and out into the emptiness.
What next?
The other planets are much the same as Earth, except there are no strong fighters to challenge him. He arrives, perhaps admires the scenery for a moment or two, and then slaughters every living thing. There's no resistance, no danger. It's as easy as waving his hand. It's no longer pleasurable to wreak destruction and despair.
So he stops.
And the voices start.
At first, they are just echoes. Little whispered comments on the ends of his thoughts.
Finally got bored, huh?
Wanton destruction not doing it for you anymore?
Looks like now you have to pick up a hobby.
The voice is snide and bitter. Sometimes it sounds like himself, and sometimes it sounds like someone else, whose voice is familiar and infuriating, and he blows up the planet instead of just leaving it lifeless.
He blasts his own head apart once or twice trying to get it to stop, but it only gets worse.
It’s probably a side effect of spending so long without speaking to another being, he thinks. But why should a perfect being need companionship , he also thinks. The two thoughts war with each other until they have obliterated everything else. It’s a roiling cacophony of ego and hubris.
Yeah, you’re definitely fine all on your own.
He grits his teeth and blasts apart a moon for good measure, because the voice is right.
When am I not?
On the next planet, he tries to speak to some of the locals. They’re a species of hairy purple fish creatures, and they all cower at the sight of him. It seems word of his exploits has travelled. He doesn’t get much in the way of conversation, but they do offer him food. It’s strange to actually use his sense of taste. The novelty is refreshing.
He keeps moving planets and sampling the cuisine— oh look you found a hobby— and trying to start conversations with the various people he comes across. It takes months of peaceful behavior before they start to open up. It is only his extreme boredom that allows him to continue listening, and he is reminded of why he had never bothered with socializing before.
You never bothered before because you were too busy killing everyone.
At least now I’d have a reason, he thinks back.
The voice laughs.
The first thing that happens after the Earth is destroyed is that the North Kai contacts the Guardian of New Namek and tells him to gather their Dragon Balls. Their first wish is the restoration of the planet Earth. Their second is to cloak both their worlds in a shroud of invisibility. Their third is to bring back Dende.
The guardian of the Earth is alone for six months, until the Namekian Dragon Balls are ready to be used again. With the help of the North Kai, he asks them to resurrect Gohan, Bulma, and Piccolo.
Gohan wakes to a corporeal body and an endless blue sky. For the first time since his death, the weight of his grief, and his shame , press on him. Here he had failed everyone and everything.
“You alright, Gohan?”
It’s Dende, and the concern in his voice is echoed in the expressions of Piccolo and Bulma. The only three other people on Earth. He chokes on a sob, and the tears flow. Piccolo bends down and scoops him up into a hug.
Piccolo is hugging him. Is he sure he’s not still dead?
Gohan flies Bulma back to her lab so that they can track down the radar and resurrect everyone else. Both of them avoid looking too long at the empty streets, but they can’t ignore the silence when they touch down in the city. It’s suffocating, and impossible to break.
They pick up the radar, turn it on, and head off in one of Bulma’s jets.
“Y’know, kid, this is how your father and I met way back when. Well, except that I didn’t shoot you in the head and you didn’t accuse me of being a witch…”
He smiled, barely, for the first time since before they all died. Bulma smiled back at the sign of his lifted mood.
“We’ll have everyone back in no time, kid, just you wait.”
Bulma was right, it took them just under a week to find all of the Dragon Balls and wish the population of Earth back to life. There was a month or two of confusion, but for most of the world life went on as it always had. Hercule Satan had taken the credit for destroying Cell, and the people relax.
Gohan does not relax. He does not sink into his studies. His mother doesn’t force him, because she knows as well as anyone that Cell is out there and the only thing between the planet and another, more permanent destruction is her oldest son. So she lets him train.
Piccolo helps, for a while. It becomes clear, though, that he is not enough to truly test Gohan’s power. And so he goes to Vegeta, and they beat each other senseless as often as their bodies will allow.
This continues for months, until there is a moment of quiet, when both Saiyans are too broken to continue, that Vegeta decides to speak.
"Brat," he starts, and the strained tone in which he says it startles Gohan.
"You are not me, and you are not your father."
Gohan is shocked into silence at the fact that Vegeta, of all people, is trying to stage an intervention.
"For Kakarot and I, this is what we are. But for you - it's not your everything, it's something you have to bear ," Vegeta continues, struggling with the words. Gohan wonders if this was the result of him embracing fatherhood after Trunks.
"It will destroy you, if you continue like this. Go back the Namek. Go back to your mother. Hell, go talk to Bulma for all I care. Anything that isn't this."
It hits Gohan with physical force.
"I need to be the strongest I can, or else there won't be anyone to go back to," he nearly sobs.
"And you will never have the strength that you need if you burn yourself out," Vegeta counters. It sounds like an argument he has made before.
The two lie there in silence until the sun begins to die and the sky turns gold. Vegeta leaves without another word. The stars are out before Gohan returns home.
By now, Cell has garnered himself an almost positive reputation among the denizens of the galaxy. It’s mostly a byproduct of him hunting down and destroying the remnants of the Planet Trade Organization. He even got rid of Frieza’s older brother in the closest thing he had to a real fight since he destroyed Earth.
You’re a regular hero now, aren’t you?
He still feels… bereft . He’s taken to cursing Gero for giving him all this power and an infinite lifespan for such an easy task. Goku is dead, the Earth is gone, and Cell has nothing better to do than sit in alien cafes and read whatever passes for literature in the culture of the week. He’s thought about applying his perfect mind to science, or technology, but what would be the point? Curing diseases and building revolutionary machines won't bring back all the people he killed, or change the fact that he murdered them.
He sips his drink and decides to watch the passersby instead of his book. There is a large population of Brenchians on this world, and they look similar enough to humans that it strikes up feelings of nostalgia.
A boy walks by with light skin and shining blond hair, and his whole world snaps off its axis and realigns on that single image. He watches, vaguely aware that his drink is now vapor and dust in his hands.
The boy is smiling, golden, superimposed with an image of another boy who is not. He wonders how close they would be if they were together. He tries to pull them apart in his mind. He's not you, he screams at the voice.
It doesn't answer.
There is a pull, as if someone plucked at the nucleus in his head and forced it in front of the boy.
"H-hello?" the boy says, fear written on his face. Defiance, he thinks. It should be defiance.
The boy runs, and the images diverge. An echo of blazing green eyes remains in front of him, pinning him in place until it fades.
He returns to his book in the cafe, and orders another drink to steady his nerves. He has not felt so much in so long, and he shakes with it.
The book is a collection of poetry, and he opens it to a random page and begins to read. His mind skips over the words like they are covered in oil, except for a single line.
All we are is our own list of reasons.
He thinks the voice would agree. It does not confirm nor deny. It does not say anything at all for a long time.
Gohan goes back to training with Piccolo. They don't discuss his previous self-destructive behavior, but Piccolo does force him to meditate. He becomes accustomed to the fact that there is no point worrying over Cell. When he shows back up, Gohan will either be strong enough or he won't. The thought isn't comforting, exactly, but it lets him breathe.
He apologizes to Piccolo for essentially ditching him for Vegeta. The Namekian never says anything, but he knows it hurt him to have his only friend apparently discard him for someone stronger. He finds that he's actually getting stronger faster under his tutelage, now that he's feeling more balanced.
Goten is getting older, and soon wants to train with his big brother. It feels right, it makes life feel like more than a battle. His life settles into a healthy equilibrium - training with Piccolo, training with Goten, studying because he enjoys it. While there is still always pain and shame and anger, it does not rule him.
Sometimes, though, he dreams. Sometimes he is back in that terrible moment where the world goes white and all he could hear is Cell's laughter. Sometimes Cell is back, stronger than ever, and crushes him with a single blow. Sometimes he is a child, and Cell replaces Piccolo or Frieza.
These are not the worst dreams, though. Puberty has brought Gohan some uncomfortable realizations about himself. He notices that while he is perfectly attracted to human men and women, he also finds Piccolo fascinating enough that he has to go back to sparring with Vegeta for a week until he can get over himself.
It seems that his childhood circumstances have crossed some wires up there about what he should and shouldn't like. So sometimes in his dreams the rich baritone croons instead of laughing, and he wakes up and vomits from the shame.
The worst part is that he has no one he can talk to about it. Anyone human would be horrified, and Piccolo doesn't really understand attraction enough to even process why Gohan is so upset. Vegeta would probably just punch him for bringing up an emotion.
He ends up going to high school, getting in with grades that remain exemplary despite his rigorous training schedule. Socializing goes easier than expected, because he has the sort of friendly, shy demeanor that immediately causes the girls to take him under their wing. The other boys hate him for it, but having a friend group is so refreshing he can't find it in himself to mind.
Once, at a study session with his friend group at one of their houses, there is a round of telling each other's darkest secrets. One of the girls quietly mentions that she had a crush on Cell when she was very young, before she was able to understand what he was. The others are surprised and amused and disgusted, but not with her. They laugh and tease, and at least one other girl admits that she kind of gets it, but they do not condemn.
Gohan shares nothing of himself, but he feels somewhat lighter after that.
Cell is not getting better. Anytime he sees a blond humanoid his mind begins to splinter and the ghost of the boy he killed haunts him for days afterward.
He reads voraciously. Fiction, non-fiction, science and literature. There is nothing that helps. There is something missing in him, something that Gero deemed unimportant to include in his creation. Aberration, Cell thinks. That is what he knows he is now.
Looks like you’re doing well.
The return of the voice is nearly unnoticed in the screaming of his mind. It is when he turns and sees an apparition with glowing hair and eyes that he flees.
The vacuum of space is empty and cold and awful. He stays out in the emptiness, hoping to have nothing but starlight for company.
The apparition follows him. It does not speak for a long time, but its gaze burns him like a ki blast.
"What do you want?" he speaks aloud, into the darkness.
What do you want? I'm just a figment of your imagination.
If he knew what he wanted, he was fairly certain that he wouldn't be chased by his own hallucinations.
Or maybe you know what you want, and that you can't have it.
"And what is that?" He is terrified that he may know the answer.
A friend. The voice is mocking him.
He scoffs. He hardly wants or needs friends, certainly not enough to start hallucinating one. And it's not like the voice is friendly.
You want something a little more specific, perhaps. The apparition is smiling now, baring its teeth.
"What? Are you implying that I want you to be my friend?"
You killed me.
"I thought you were just a figment of my imagination!" he snarls, frustrated.
You killed them all.
"I know! And I'm glad I did! It was my right! I'm the perfect being!"
Something in his mind settles after he bellows into the darkness, but the apparition is still there. It stares at him pensively.
What does that mean? It says after a time.
He doesn't have an answer. He stays there in the vacuum of space for a long time. He finds that he misses the taste of food, and the act of reading. He even misses conversation, as boring as it was most of the time.
"It means nothing."
The apparition still doesn't leave. Cell flies off through the stars, still trailed by the glowing figure.
He keeps going until the shapes of the stars are painfully familiar. There is no life out here, he made sure of that long ago.
Feeling nostalgic, it seems.
Cell was feeling more nauseous than anything. Before him was Earth's sun and its sister planets. He headed towards the empty spot that had once held the vibrant planet. He knew now, after years among the stars, that Earth had been special.
And you blew it up.
Shut up, he thinks at the voice.
Has that literally ever worked?
He suppresses a growl. The space before him did not spark anymore feelings, as he expected it to. There is no finality, no beginning, no nothing.
You won't get closure that easily.
Was that what he wanted? Closure? For the destruction of the Earth? That was a pain he inflicted on others, not on himself.
I believe the feeling you're experiencing is called "regret."
Ah yes, regret. That was a new one for him, wasn't it? He hadn't really understood the concept when he'd read about it in books, but he'd allowed that imperfect beings might take imperfect actions they thought were correct and realize later were wrong.
Now that he doubted his own perfection, it made sense that he might not feel all of his actions were justified.
How many ever were?
He knew the answer to that one. There is a hot burst of shame that eclipses everything for a moment.
You're starting to get it, aren't you?
He's not exactly sure what he's supposed to be getting. Maybe the voice just enjoys the idea of him suffering.
You're not perfect. You never were.
Yes, he knows that now. Destroying the Earth was a mistake. Killing everyone was a mistake. Except Goku, maybe. It makes him feel self-loathing for the first time, and it hurts. He wonders how all of the characters in the stories he read could stand this.
Some of them couldn't, the voice whispers quietly.
He looks down at the moon, orbiting nothing. Nothing remains, not even rubble.
Wait.
Orbiting nothing?
He is suddenly glad for all of the science reading he did, because he knows something isn't right and his heart starts pounding.
The apparition is looking down at the empty space with a strange expression.
Are you excited?
Yes, he thinks.
Why?
He has no idea.
You can't fix anything by going down there.
He knows this. He also knows that this could very likely mean his own destruction.
Is that what you want?
Instead of answering, he flies down to where the planet should be. The apparition doesn't follow.
Gohan tenses immediately. He and probably anyone else on the planet with even the slightest ability to sense ki could probably tell that Cell was here, just waiting above them. It was a matter of time before he found them and it would be all over.
It was like being sucked back in time seven years, to the days before the Cell Games. There was nothing but miserable, choking fear to feel for him and anyone else that knew what was coming.
The phone at the Son residence rings. It's Krillin.
"You feel that?" he asked in lieu of a greeting.
"I think anyone would," Gohan sighs.
"You okay?" The concern in his voice was touching.
"I have to be."
"You can do it, Gohan. We all believe in you," he says, and then hangs up. They'd be seeing each other whenever he started coming down to the planet anyways.
"Gohan!" bellows Piccolo, as he appears outside the window.
"I know, let's go to the lookout and hope the others meet us there."
The two fly off. Cell still hadn't moved by the time they reach their destination. The others file in soon after, faces grim.
"What do you think he's waiting for?" asks Yamcha.
"Maybe he hasn't figured out we're here yet," says Krillin. Gohan does not share his optimism.
Earth's warriors wait in strained silence. Eventually, Cell breaks orbit and heads toward the planet.
"Let me intercept him first," says Piccolo, startling everyone. This was to be expected from Vegeta, not the level-headed Namekian.
Vegeta, predictably, mounts a protest. This was his way to avenge his son, he needed to prove himself better than Kakarot, all of the expected arguments.
"No," said Gohan. He knew what they were doing. Even Vegeta, in his own way, wanted to protect him. But he was the only one strong enough to have a hope of protecting anyone.
"This is my fight," he said.
"Gohan-" Piccolo starts.
"No," he repeats. "I know I'm strong enough this time. I have to be. No one else is going to die because of my mistakes."
The others are quiet, because they know that in the end, he is the only one that stands a chance.
He flies off before any of them can guilt him out of this. The wasteland he died in looks the same, a jagged scar on the Earth's surface. He sets down and powers up enough to announce his presence, and waits.
Cell appears an instant later. He says nothing. Gohan wastes no breath on words and instead immediately attacks. His strikes crack satisfyingly against Cell's blocks. There is a full minute of fighting before he realizes that there is only defense, no offence.
He backs off, reassessing the situation.
"Hello, Gohan," purrs the voice from his nightmares. He feels sick.
"I'm not going to let you win this time," he shouts, even though he knows it's pointless.
"I'm not here to kill you or anyone else," says Cell. Gohan realizes that his voice sounds strangely pained. He hasn't had the chance to hit him that hard yet.
"Then what are you here for?" He asks, mockingly.
"I don't know," says Cell, and he sounds lost.
"Not to finish what you started?" snarled Gohan, and he punctuates it with a ki blast for good measure.
"No," says Cell as he deflects the blast. He looks… unwell. Gohan is an adult now, and much taller, so naturally Cell does not seem the towering monstrosity he was before. But even accounting for that, he seems smaller than he should. Diminished without all of that arrogance.
Am I even fighting Cell? he thinks. This is certainly nothing like any of his nightmares. Not even those ones. Do not think about that , he chides himself.
Gohan laughs. "Next are you going to say that you don't want to fight me?"
"Oh, I still want to fight you," says Cell with a smirk that does funny things to Gohan's chest, "But I don't want to kill you."
"Then come here and fight me," he growls, and Cell's face splits in feral, blinding smile. Gohan is struck with the awful thought that he finds Cell devastatingly handsome.
He drowns it out with a roar as he powers up, and their fight begins in earnest.
The moment Cell begins heading for the planet, he smacks directly into the atmosphere and can feel billions of lives. There is only one he cares about and it is headed towards the last place he saw him.
The ki signature was so exactly like what he remembered it nearly hurt. What if this is all just a hallucination? What if it isn't real? What if it is?
He remembers Instant Transmission and focuses on that ki signature. It is nearly surprising when it works.
Gohan is before him, already in his first Super Saiyan form. He is much taller and much stronger than when he last saw him. Cell's mind is reeling, because this is real. This is happening. He is only barely able to bring up a block in time.
Their fight is initially just Cell trying to both defend himself from a vicious onslaught and process that this is real, this is actually happening. Gohan is alive.
They part for a bit, taking in their bearings. Cell has the presence of mind to greet Gohan, if only to confirm his reality. The Saiyan spits venom back him, and Cell tells him that he is not here to kill anyone.
Gohan obviously doesn't believe him, and Cell can't blame really blame him for his skepticism. But Cell has no answer for why he is here, and his crisis is apparently pissing Gohan off. Gohan's voice is so bitter that it makes something in Cell twinge.
The boy laughs, and it is an awful, broken sound.
"Next are you going to say that you don't want to fight me?"
Well, now that he mentions it, Cell can feel the very Saiyan lust for combat burning in his veins. It’s the best thing he's felt in years. But he has no interest in harming the boy, and he tells him as much.
Gohan screams his way to a power level that makes him quiver with anticipation, and the fight truly starts.
Cell is glad that his motley biology has caused his power to increase over time without much investment, because Gohan has not been slacking off. The power and skill he displays is as terrifying as it is exhilarating. He twists around blows that would crush a weaker being, deflects blasts that would have ended his earlier self.
He thinks he has the rhythm, the mood of the fight down, and decides to play. He splits into two beings, and manages to sandwich Gohan between the two copies of himself. The Saiyan simply puts his fist through the copy, causing it to fade, but Cell has a kick ready for him when he swings around. It sends him flying.
Gohan is back on his feet in an instant, but now there is a smirk on his face. Cell's heart stops. He returns the gesture, and leaps back at his prey. There is something magical about this, something that makes him feel direction and joy in a way he hasn't in years.
Cell notices that throughout their fight, neither of them has bothered to take the fight to the air, or to a longer range. Gohan is in his face, throwing blocks and strikes and almost no ki. Instead of retreating, Cell leans into the pressure, eager to close the gap. Gohan throws a punch wide, and Cell takes the opportunity to grab it and twist the Saiyan into his arms with a hold reminiscent of their previous fight.
This time, though, everything is different. He smiles down at the boy in triumph. The boy stills, but not in fear. There is a tension between them that is wholly different from before, and his mouth goes slack in confusion. Gohan looks back up at him, his expression strange and intense. The moment stretches on, until Gohan abruptly shoves him off and blasts him in the face.
They now stand as far apart as they had when Cell first touched down. Gohan is panting, despite what Cell knows to be a very minimal amount of exertion for his endurance. His expression is wild, unreadable. Cell is suddenly very unsure about this, not even sure it's a fight anymore.
"Do you want to continue?" he asks, and Gohan flees . There is nothing that Cell knows about the boy that could possibly explain this. Why would he confront him, only to chicken out after their fight got less serious?
He does not follow, because he doesn't think the mystery will be solved by chasing Gohan around the planet. So he waits, and he wonders.
The wind on his face is the only thing Gohan wants to feel right now.
He ran like a coward. Because he almost kissed Cell. The sheer embarrassment he feels could sustain a small star. It only gets worse, as he realizes that he's going to have to explain himself.
Off in the distance, he feels Cell remain curiously stationary. He’d expect the cyborg to chase him down with Instant Transmission to continue the fight, but it seems that he has lost interest. It does not take long for Vegeta to show up and engage him, and Gohan nearly rolls his eyes.
Gohan touches down in another wasteland to collect his thoughts, and to feel the progress of Cell and Vegeta’s fight from a distance. It seems that the cyborg is just as reluctant to land killing blows against Vegeta as he was against Gohan. He feels slighted, somehow. The two dance around each other, with Vegeta obviously getting angrier at being toyed with and Cell trying harder and harder to keep things non-lethal despite this.
Gohan is trying very hard to quash his inexplicable jealousy. He almost doesn’t feel Piccolo’s approach.
The Namekian sets down next to him, and he suppresses the urge to fly off again. There is no way he’ll be able to get through this conversation without dying of embarrassment. While Piccolo is the least worst option to have this discussion with, he’s still going to need to explain his behavior to everyone else. He shudders.
“Are you alright?” asks Piccolo. It is asked tenderly, as if any words could have the potential to wound. He has probably attributed Gohan’s sudden cowardice to his trauma, which is a much more sensible reason than the actual one. Though Gohan isn’t entirely sure the two aren’t related.
“I’m fine,” he responds automatically. At the look on Piccolo’s face, he amends, “It wasn’t about the fight,” he says.
Piccolo sighs deeply, and sounds as old as the Nameless Namekian he once was.
“We’ve all put too much on your shoulders,” he starts, and Gohan laughs. The sheer alarm on Piccolo’s face at this makes him laugh harder.
“Look, this isn’t about the responsibility of protecting the Earth, okay? I don’t even think Cell wants to hurt anyone.”
Piccolo looks skeptical.
“You believe that?” he asks.
Gohan remembers that Piccolo probably heard his and Cell’s entire conversation, and is suddenly very thankful that his most embarrassing reactions had been silent.
“Considering he’s trying really hard right now not to do permanent damage to Vegeta, I think I have to.”
Piccolo snorts.
“I’ll admit that’s a feat worthy of envy, but if he you believe that he isn’t here to hurt anyone, why run?”
Gohan feels his face heat to the roots of his hair. He has no idea how to approach this topic at all, let alone to someone who doesn’t really understand the mechanics of the issue.
“Uh, I uh, may be kind of… attracted to him.”
Piccolo stares at him with the sort of blank look that indicates his statement has not even been processed enough to cause confusion.
“And I might have thought about kissing him.”
Piccolo still does not speak, or emote at all. Gohan is worried he may have broken him. He opens his mouth to say more, but Piccolo finally appears to have something to say.
“You ran away from him because you’re attracted to him? Isn’t that the opposite of what attraction means?”
It is a very logical question. Gohan thinks he might be purple now. Like a grape.
“Attraction is kind of a hard thing to process,” he says, “Especially if you have reason to hate the person you’re attracted to.” It’s a very mature explanation. He mentally pats himself on the back.
Piccolo’s brow furrows, and it becomes obvious that this is straining at the very limits of his understanding of human social dynamics.
“Wouldn’t hating someone get rid of your attraction to them?”
“Apparently not.”
Piccolo ‘hmms’ a bit.
“So you want to kiss him?” He looks like the thought makes him vaguely ill. Gohan can hardly say anything, because it’s a thought that definitely makes him ill.
“Uh, maybe? Look, this is really uncomfortable to talk about.”
Piccolo gives him a look of mingled relief and concern.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks, and this time Gohan nods with conviction.
“As I can be,” he says.
“What happens if he wants to kiss you back?” asks Piccolo, suddenly. It’s surprising that he’d even think of that, but Gohan remembers that he did fuse with Kami, and gained more insight into the human condition.
Gohan briefly imagines actually kissing Cell, and it feels like his guts are going to burst out of his body. It’s not entirely unpleasant, somehow.
“I don’t know,” he answers truthfully.
“Do you still want to destroy him?”
Now there is the real question. It hurts for Gohan to consider it, because his answer should be an emphatic “of course” considering the cyborg’s crimes, but all he can think of is that lost look on his face. And, annoyingly, how handsome he finds that face.
He thinks about his father’s tendency to spare villains. It worked out for people like Tien, Piccolo, and arguably Vegeta, but it backfired horribly with Frieza. The difference there was that Frieza had no reason to change. No sense of honor like Tien, no camaraderie with the Earthlings like Piccolo and Vegeta. There was nothing in him for Goku’s optimism to touch, nothing that could challenge his belief that the destruction of others was his right.
It was how Cell had been. Completely convinced of his own supremacy, of the insignificance of all other life. That Cell had been irredeemable, and Goku hadn’t even tried. But it all came back to how utterly broken Cell seemed when he fought him, like he was already in hell. How he refused to harm him or even Vegeta. This was not the same being that killed him.
“I don’t think I can, anymore. He’s not going to harm anyone. It’d just be revenge at this point,” he says, suddenly sure.
“And you don’t want revenge?” Piccolo asks. He shakes his head.
“Not really. Especially not if it means fighting.”
“Do you think the people of Earth deserve revenge? They’ll certainly want it” Piccolo continues, and Gohan can see Kami’s wisdom poking through again in this line of questioning.
“I don’t think it’s really fair to let anyone decide that. If Cell is really committed to changing, wouldn’t it be better to let him try to atone than to kill him?”
Piccolo seems to think for a while on this. He realizes that the Namekian might be thinking of himself, now. King Piccolo had taken over the world, killed countless people, and presided over a reign of unprecedented terror. Did his continued defence of the planet or his relationship with Gohan absolve him of that?
Perhaps not. But perhaps justice is about more than punishment, and letting someone who’d actually changed, committed to their new role, and understood that they had been wrong live to work toward atonement was better for everyone.
Gohan had never really questioned his acceptance of Piccolo. The Namekian had once been categorically evil, but after a time it seemed almost laughable that the calm, stoic warrior had been anything other than his closest friend.
“I think we should give him a chance,” he says, with as much finality as he can muster.
“Not just because you want to kiss him?”
“No!” Gohan splutters, aghast that Piccolo would tease him like that.
“Then you better go rescue him from Vegeta.”
Cell realizes that he absolutely loathes Vegeta. The Saiyan appears within moments of Gohan leaving, snarling and bombarding him with attacks. He vibrates with broken pride, and it reminds Cell just enough of his past self that he finds it personally insulting.
It takes everything for him to refrain from killing him. It’s perhaps the hardest thing he’s ever done. Of course, holding back is only making the Saiyan prince angrier and thus more violent. Non-lethally deflecting his attacks is taking nearly as much thought as it is willpower as the fight wears on.
What grates most is that it’s preventing him from musing too much on Gohan’s actions. Or at least severely limiting him. He keeps running the moments where he had the half-Saiyan in his arms running through his head. The intense expression on Gohan’s face, the pull that felt like the irresistible gravity of a star. He doesn’t understand why he keeps getting stuck on this, and not the fact that Gohan ran away. He also doesn’t understand why Gohan running stung, when it should have made him feel triumphant.
Vegeta howls some sort of barb at him, intending to make him fight seriously. Annoyed at the interruption to his thoughts, he blasts the Saiyan in the face. The resultant indignationion is hilarious, and it’s work not to laugh. Perhaps this could be enjoyable, after all.
He continues deliberately antagonizing Vegeta until the man is practically apoplectic. Off in the distance, he can feel that Gohan and Piccolo are having a conversation. Cell curses the irony that Gero did not think to give his perfect creation the superior Namekian hearing, and thus is forced to guess at what they’re saying about him.
Piccolo is probably talking Gohan into coming back and killing him, he thinks darkly.
At least the impressive shade of red that Vegeta has turned in his frustration is amusing.
“You alright over there? It looks like you might need to check your blood pressure,” he taunts, and Vegeta’s answering incoherent scream of rage is delightful.
The Saiyan prince rushes at him again, and at the same moment he can feel Gohan flying back towards him. His distraction allows Vegeta to land a blow that makes him grateful for his regenerative abilities.
Vegeta stops suddenly.
“That brat dares come back after he ran like a coward!” he snarls, attention diverted.
Cell blasts him in the face again.
“He’s not a coward,” he says, surprising himself.
Vegeta does not retaliate immediately, which is even more surprising. Instead, he looks at Cell thoughtfully.
“That boy couldn’t beat you before, and he doesn’t even like fighting. He certainly didn’t run away out of bravery,” he scoffs.
The barb hits its mark, because Cell is suddenly very, very angry at Vegeta. He has no idea why the man insulting Gohan bothers him so much. Maybe it was related to all the other strange thoughts and reactions he was having towards the boy.
He is stopped from doing anything rash by the arrival of Gohan and Piccolo. The Namekian stands off, an observer. Gohan closes in.
“Back off, Vegeta,” he calls.
“You gave up your right to fight him when ran off with your tail between your legs!” Vegeta roars back.
“Do you really want to stay here and let him toy with you until he gets bored?” snaps Gohan.
Cell is inexplicably proud at the completely gobsmacked expression on Vegeta’s face, and especially of the awful shade of vermilion it turns as the anger hits.
Vegeta looks between the two of them, and knows he has lost.
“Fine, I hope you two kill each other,” he rasps, and flies off.
Gohan turns to Cell. There is something in the way he is looking at him now, resolute and calm, that is utterly terrifying.
“I think we should finish what we started,” says the half-Saiyan.
“Why did you run?” he asks in return. He can’t even begin to figure out how to ask what he really wants to.
Gohan blushes, and it makes Cell’s heart rate pick up.
“I realized what I wanted, and it scared me,” he says.
“And what do you want?” he asks.
Gohan does not answer. Instead, he moves closer to him, stopping when he is only inches from Cell’s chest. Cell is utterly confused. Nothing in the half-Saiyan’s body language indicates that he’s about to attack, but he doesn’t understand what else he could be doing.
But then Gohan inches his face closer to Cell’s, and he feels that pull again, the way time stretches out into infinity, as their lips meet.
Oh, he thinks, That’s unexpected. The sensations rushing through him right now are both awful and indescribably wonderful. It seems like another eternity before they break apart.
“That’s what I wanted,” said Gohan, looking away. “Do you want-” he stammers.
“Yes,” he answers, suddenly more sure of this than he’d ever been of anything, “Yes I do.”