Weeping is not the same thing as crying. It takes your whole body to weep, and when it's over, you feel like you don't have any bones left to hold you up.

Sarah Ockler

OOO

"Where's Papa?"

Videl blinked at her daughter's inquiry. Looking about, sure enough, she couldn't spy her husband anywhere. Rather odd for him. After all, at the end of a battle, he was the first checking to see if everyone was all right. With the departure of the dragon and Son Goku with it—and presumably the Dragonballs as well—an odd peace had settled over the landscape, even as Pan clutched the remains of her grandfather's gi so tightly into her chest that the material should have given way.

Realization settled over Videl's face. "I think your father just needs some time alone for a moment, Pan."

"Time alone?" Her voice still betrayed her pain and maybe still a smidge of selfishness. "My grandfather's gone! I need you all right now!" That was hard to admit but it was true. With Goku gone, the only thing that felt like it made sense was her parents. Even when Grandpa had been gone, training, it never felt like he was gone because he would always pop back in at any moment. This...this finality...it cut and it hurt. Still holding tight to that gi as if it might be able to summon Goku back from beyond, Pan choked as her shoulders shook. She accepted her mother's embrace even as the woman chided her gently.

"Yes. Your grandfather is gone. It's not right and it's not fair. But I want you to remember something, Pan."

The girl looked up even as she tried to wipe her tears away. Her mother brushed the small stains they left behind with her thumb. "He's your grandfather and he always will be. You have every right to be angry and sad. But Goku was your father's father. Don't you think this is hurting him too?"

That took her a bit by surprise. She'd never thought much on that. Grandpa was Grandpa and even though she knew why a grandparent was a grandparent—being the parent of one's parent—she never gave it much thought. Never seemed to need to.

Hearing it from her mother now though made her feel utterly terrible. Grandpa had been a center point of her world and she did not deny that. Traveling with him, while infuriating at times, had reminded her of why she loved the man so much. But as much as she loved him, her father was his son.

Pan's heart felt empty, broken, lost.

How deep was her father cut?

As much as Pan loved her grandfather, her and Gohan had always shared a special bond as well. When Grandpa had devoted his tone to help Uub, Pan had learned fighting from her father and mother. Gohan in particular had a strong knack for teaching it in a way that was both fun and easy to follow. She could see a lot of her grandfather in him, not just move wise but in personality—heart, desire, ambition.

Pan looked up at her mother and passed the gi she was cradling so desperately over. "Mom, lemme go find Papa."

Videl's eyes were full of fire. "Pan, I think he left for a reason. I know you want him here but he needs a moment. He doesn't need you hounding him right now."

"I know but I think I needa see him, Mom. Maybe I can help him." Maybe she should have felt insulted that the first thing her mother thought of was her hounding her father but thinking over her past behaviors...maybe that was a fair assessment. "I...Papa is hurting and it's not good to be alone when you hurt so much."

While Videl could make the argument that this was not always true, she could see the reasoning in her daughter's eyes and now was not the time to argue specifics. She folded the gi tightly and tucked it under her arm. "C'mon. Let's go find Papa."

OOO

Gohan sat still, arms folded and settled on his knees. One nice thing about battle aftermath was there was always plenty of rubble to isolate behind. It gave you privacy when you were trying to get yourself together and he was quite grateful for that.

The Dragon was gone. The dragonballs were gone. His father...was gone.

People sometimes teased him that his father left a lot but that wasn't entirely true. He did go training a lot but he always came back and except for the year Gohan spent in the wilderness (during which his father was dead himself) and the one year he had spent on Yardrat getting his power under control before he came home, Goku was a solid presence in his life. After he came back after Buu, he fell right back into that pattern, almost as if he had never left.

Now, this...this felt final. Like when his father had died against Cell but deeper somehow. Gohan felt, in his deepest, inner most being, that he would not see his father again until he died himself.

He knew that this was a common problem for most people but they had gotten spoiled on the Dragonballs. Complacent. Plus he also knew that one day this was going to come, regardless. Time eventually came for all things. No matter what, Gohan was well aware that old age would have eventually taken his father.

But not yet. It wasn't supposed to happen yet. He was barely in his thirties. Even without the extended youth Saiyans had, he should have had...minimum...another fifteen or twenty years with his father in his life. More like twenty five or thirty with as healthy as Goku was.

Had it been a deal his father had made so they could use the Dragonballs one last time? Did it have anything to do with that final spirit bomb or him surviving enough to throw the thing?

Gohan suddenly had a deep, burning hatred for Shenlong. As much as they had done for the earth, as much as they fought and while yes, they'd overused the Dragonballs, Gohan could not remember any wish they'd used that was selfish in nature. He knew that wasn't how it worked and that energy was energy but it made him infuriated all the same.

After all of this and Shenlong's price was his father?

It wasn't fair and it wasn't right.

Burying his face into his arms, Gohan wept. He'd gotten a smile and a goodbye but he couldn't remember the last time he'd hugged his father. Oh, he knew why Goku hadn't done that before he left. When you were telling loved ones goodbye, the longer you lingered, the harder it became. If he'd hugged any of them, he'd have not been able to let go.

It hurt. A gnawing ache in his chest. The prospect of never seeing his father again for the rest of his mortal life suddenly made old age seem too far off. He loved his wife, loved his daughter but the realization of how long this separation would be...if Shenlong hadn't taken his father to some distinct mystical realm beyond his reach...it hurt.

The things he would never do with his father again. The things he would never hear from his father again.

No more training trips. No more fishing outings. No more random camping expeditions. No more just silent moments, just quiet times to just...be with a person.

Gohan knew he would miss those the most. When he could just lie in the grass, his father by his side, no words needed and just be. A silent contemplation between the two of them in just appreciating the presence of the other. They'd done it throughout Gohan's childhood and their time together in the Time Chamber had all but perfected it.

The quiet in those moments was serene but this silence—the lack of his father's ki—was deafening.

Gohan pondered, briefly, what to do. He couldn't just sit here and wallow but what could he do? In the past, if his father were missing or gone, he would go to one of two people:

Krillin had just been revived and he was no doubt celebrating with his family. Not just right to damper that with such sour news.

The other was Piccolo.

Piccolo was also gone, trapped in Hell.

There was his wife but Pan needed her right now.

He felt utterly and completely alone.

When the pain became too much, it turned into tears, that's what his father always said. Piccolo used to give him flack for crying so much when he was little but wouldn't say a word if he dampened Piccolo's cape with his tears . Goku would just smile and open his arms and hold him tight.

When Piccolo had given himself up, Goku despite being a little kid in body, had just wrapped himself around his son and let him sob his heart out, away from the prying eyes of the others. No words, just the presence of a loving father.

Both those options were gone.

Gohan stayed where he was, face buried, and cried.

OOO

Pan didn't know to make of it.

Her father was one of the strongest people she knew. He'd always been. Far as she was concerned, absolutely nothing could crush that man.

So, coming upon him sobbing into his arms was a massive break in her sense of reality. She didn't know what she expected to find but this wasn't it. Hard even for her to break the illusion one had of their parents.

Videl calmly made her way over, sat next to him and wrapped her arm around his broad shoulders. He stiffened though just slightly at the motion then gave into the offered support. Videl never said a word because words were useless right now. There was nothing to be offered.

What did you say to someone that just lost their father?

Pan stood there, a moment more then walked over, planted herself on Gohan's other side and squeezed up against him, wrapping her arms tight around him. Gohan jerked a bit, surprised yet not upset at the invasion.

His daughter looked up at him with her soft eyes, reflective of not just him and Videl but ChiChi and Goku and maybe even a touch of Goten as well. She gazed at him with nothing but a desire to make him feel better. "I'm sorry, Papa."

Gohan blinked at her, reached up to wipe away his tears. He had to stay strong for her. Without his father, it had to fall to him and—

Pan reached up, caught her father by the wrist. "It's okay, Papa. You don't hafta be ol' tough around me. I miss him too." Saying it out loud made the pain in her chest burn again. The emptiness. They should have been going home to a great barbecue outside her grandparents' house. They should have been celebrating the fact they had survived. They should have been celebrating their victory. They should have been wrestling with Grandpa while Grandma sighed in resignation. Uncle Goten and Papa should have been engaging in a half attempted spar. The eating of the feast should have dissolved into laughter and a few food bits flung at one another when opportunity presented itself.

Instead, they were going home with the heavy burden of victory on their hearts and by everything, it wasn't fair!

Gohan didn't answer but he did lower his hand . Pan nuzzled deep into his side. "Papa...I learned a lot, traveling with Grandpa. And if he were here...he'd say we cry for a reason. So don't be ashamed of it." She wasn't sure if that was exactly how her grandfather would have phrased it but it felt right to her even as her own eyes welled up again. "Cause that's what tears are...for."

Gohan wrapped his arms around her tightly. It was a grip of love, of desperation. She leaned into it, took comfort that her father was still here. He wasn't gone but was here with her and he was probably the one person on the planet that could understand how much her heart hurt.

So Pan wept against his chest, dug her hands into his gi top. Clung to him as one of the most solid things in the world.

Eventually, he gave in.

His body trembled. His shoulders shook. Sweat gathered on his hands. His sobs came loud and violent. He held Pan as tight as he dared, as if keeping her tucked into chest would convince his heart to stop hurting.

Videl held them both.

There was nothing else she could do.

So she sat there in silence, kept her arms tucked around them as tight as she could and gave them her love.

There was nothing else she could do.

There was nothing else they could do.

So they wept.

And Videl would be there to lift them up.