A/N: Hey! This is a short and sweet one-shot I came up with after listening to the song "Phoenix" by Breaking Point (I'd put the lyrics in here but now more than ever we're not allowed to do that *sigh*). I thought it fit Gohan perfectly as he was entering the final moments of his battle with Cell. This is different from anything I've posted on the site thus far so I hope you guys like it! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or any of its characters.
Gohan watched in horror as Cell stood arrogantly in front of him, laughing menacingly. This really looked like the end; hope seemed to be nowhere in sight. Everyone on Earth was about to be killed, and it would be all his fault. He knew he should've killed Cell when he had the chance. He had no one to blame but himself for the deaths of his father and Trunks, and the impending destruction of the planet. He wasn't even able to use one of his arms now; it was popped completely out of its socket, and he was in white-hot pain as he gripped onto it with his other arm.
He had never felt as helpless as he did in that moment. All of his energy was practically drained, and it was a miracle he was even standing at this point. His golden hair blew viciously in the wind, blood oozing out the cuts he had suffered during the battle. What could he do? Vegeta had told him he was sorry for getting in the way, for being the cause of injuring one of his arms. If Vegeta of all people was apologizing, it was a sure sign the end was near.
Cell was evil. . .pure evil. His mother had always taught him not to hate anything, but dammit, he hated Cell with every fiber of his being. Because of this bastard he was left without a father, left without a reason to keep going. The future seemed bleak; he felt like dying on the spot, knowing he had forsaken everyone around him. But, he was just a kid. . .just a scared eleven-year-old boy. This was just too much responsibility for him, his father should have known better than to let the fate of the planet rest on his shoulder.
He was still the same timid kid Piccolo had trained all those years ago. Nothing had changed. Fighting wasn't what he was meant to do.
It was imminent that they would all die together, and eventually be in heaven with his father. This is how it would have to end.
He believed this to a fault until a voice had sounded in his ear. . .it was his father. It was as though Goku had heard all of Gohan's internal contemplation, and he knew just what to say to get him back on the right track. He told him to keep going, to not regret anything that had happened today, even his death. He encouraged him, swore that he had the strength inside him to diminish Cell; all he had to do was believe in himself, despite his temporary shortage of strength.
After speaking with his father, everything fell into place. One arm was all he had to fight with, and he knew it would be enough. This Kamehameha he was about to fire was for his dad, Trunks and anyone else who had to suffer at the hands of that monster.
Debris was blowing around him, blood trickled down his body, sticking like glue onto his weak limbs. All of his friends watching had looks of forlorn on their faces, believing that victory was hopeless. There was even a small drop of doubt lurking in the back of his own mind, telling him to give up now. But he had to push through, just like his dad would if he were in this situation. A sudden rush of energy spread through his veins and seized him, shaking him to the core.
He closed his eyes, a vision of his dad floating by. His memories were all he had left of him, but that didn't stop him from feeling his dad's spirit right beside him.
"You can do this, son," he heard Goku whisper.
Gohan took his good arm and raised it, sensing his strength building back up.
He knew with all his heart he would win this. He had everything he needed to do this, and now he had his father with him. He did not fear Cell anymore.
He would protect this planet with everything he had. Like a phoenix he would rise and proclaim his destiny. This fight was over.