Back Against the Wall
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z or any of its characters
Warning: Swearing, violence & male/male
Set just before the Trunks saga.
Piccolo/Mirai Gohan
Chapter One
A heavy ache throbbed its way into his awareness as he regained consciousness. He felt the numb give way, slowly, to an ever increasing pain. Dark eyes struggled as they opened, blinking in barely contained agony whilst a shaky breath left his cracked lips. He could hear himself groan, a weak, faint sound and his lungs burned with it. Bleary eyes tried to see but the stillness wouldn't leave him. Nothing would move, and he vaguely felt a repulsive panic begin to make itself known. Swallowing the bile rising in protest, he tried to focus. Just an inch from his blood shot eyes he could see wet grass blades wavering. He was aware then, that it was raining and it was coming down so hard that he wondered, hoped, that he might be under his waterfall. He kept trying to blink it out of his eyes from where he lay in the dirt, one cheek pressed firmly into the wet soil. This was no waterfall.
One green hand lay, taunting, in front of his face and he tried to move it, but nothing really happened. His hand just seemed to weigh so much, moving felt like a mammoth task. The weakness was unbearable. As the minutes rolled by, Piccolo felt something burning in his chest. Fear maybe, or pain. He couldn't move. The heat burned him and yet he knew he was freezing cold, long since drenched, frozen in the mud. How long have I been here?
It was dark, he could see the moonlight glittering in the rain drops on the grass blades. Dark shadows of trees swayed in the distance ahead. He had been training in the late morning, he could remember that much. He had felt hot and figured that maybe he was over doing it with his duplicate forms. Then the pain had hit, a tearing sensation deep in his stomach and chest, or maybe his back, he didn't know. Have I been lying here since then?
He almost didn't care. His eyes closed slowly and he distantly registered that he couldn't feel his body again. In his burgeoning delirium he idly wondered if he had lost it.
A sound, like a beating drum in the water, flickered across Piccolo's senses and his eyes slowly opened again. He didn't know how long he'd been out again for. It was still dark, and though the rain had stopped the ground was still very wet. That sound again. The water drum. He realised then, belatedly, that there was a boot in his vision. His mind was all over the place. How did a boot get here?
Gohan looked down with bold, dark eyes. He stood so still, staring with shock, confusion and suspicion. He pushed the happiness down, the foolish, pointless happiness that this was Piccolo. His dear friend, here and alive and lying face down in the dirt. Scuffed orange gi pants bristled in the breeze as it picked up but he continued to stand there. His dark hair was dripping in his eyes but he didn't care.
"Piccolo?"
There was no response. Gohan loosened his grip on the weapon in his hand, the one he had wielded expecting to see someone else. His heartbeat was still thudding and he felt the pain of holding too hard in his fingers when he put the taser back in his belt. Somewhere in the distance a fork of lightning struck and a long, low grumble echoed in the air. It stirred Gohan into action. He kneeled down, sinking into the damp soil and took a closer look. This wasn't just a Namek, this was definitely Piccolo. The purple gi was in tatters, soaking and his skin was streaked with violet blood. Concern then clawed its way into the front of Gohan's awareness and he gingerly picked up his friend. The shock and disbelief was ebbing, and now all he felt was a very strong urge to protect. His hands touched Piccolo's arms and he was so cold to the touch that the demi Saiyan almost dropped him. Images then, of the Androids digging his friend out of the ground to taunt him flashed across his mind and he had to school himself. He could hear his friend breathing, albeit faint. He didn't feel as heavy as Gohan had expected. Nah, i'm just incredibly strong.
He took flight, holding his cargo close, as he took the most covert route he could. Broken cities lay below him, stone strewn everywhere in darkness and he could sense a few souls seeking refuge underneath them. He ignored them. Compassion had no place in this world. He arrived home, or what he considered to be home now, just as the rain picked up again. Once inside, the light was a little confronting but he now looked down at the man in his arms. Forest green skin, violet blood, white fangs. He could see him, so close and so alive. His heart began to constrict painfully in an intense feeling of happiness. It felt so foreign.
He stood in the entrance of the building, which also served as a kitchen. An old oak table that could seat four to his left, in front of a line of wooden cabinets, a sink and some surface area. It was nothing spectacular, but it sufficed. Water dripped onto the white tiles beneath his boots but he didn't move. His brown eyes were entranced and they were soon joined by another pair of wide, shocked bright cerulean ones. Bulma's mouth was agape, and she glanced up at Gohan who was just stood there, wet in his orange gi, blue undershirt stuck to his skin. He looked at her then, a life in his eyes that she hadn't seen since back when - her thoughts were cut off.
His voice was hopeful as he walked forward, back in action.
"He's hurt. Come on"
Bulma followed as he went down the hallway and into a sparse single bedroom, with an unused bed. He placed Piccolo down, far more carefully than was really necessary for the battle hardened Namek but Gohan wasn't about to take any chances. He looked like he had been inside the almighty storm that he had apparently brought with him. Bulma checked his vitals first and shifted Gohan out of the way, with a strength that came from nowhere. The demi-Saiyan watched, transfixed, and he noticed that Bulma's sweats had oil stains on them. Probably engineering some new phaser blaster or an android bomb. He thought fondly of her working though she didn't work like she used to, the failure just seemed to eat at your motivation.
"Well, I think he's okay but his heartbeat is slow and his breathing doesn't sound too good. I don't think he's getting enough oxygen into his lungs"
Gohan's chest squirmed as she continued.
"I'll get some oxygen and a heart monitor. I've only got basic stuff but he's strong, he'll be fine. Namek's heal quick"
She added the last bit for his comfort, and he knew it. He tried to smile, but it just wasn't the heartfelt smile he used to be able to pull.
"Okay, thanks Bulma"
"Sure thing, sunshine...I just...I can't believe it's really him"
Gohan paused before responding, moving out of the way of the door to let her through.
"I know"
She returned a few minutes later pulling some apparatus in behind her. The setup was done in record time and she was then placing the oxygen mask over Piccolo's face. The steady beep of a slow heart rate then started and kept going. The equipment looked a little odd in the small room. He drew the curtains and watched the dust puff up and slowly settle. Everything was so run down now, he had forgotten that it wasn't normal. He sat down in an old armchair, that had been put in here because it was worn. His gi felt heavy and soaked but he ignored it. Piccolo lay still with the mask over his face, looking so unlike the mentor he had grown up with. Bulma had finished fiddling with the settings on the monitor and then exhaled a breath she'd been holding. Blue hair was falling out of her roughly pulled back ponytail and Gohan could see wrinkles starting to show in the overhead light. It gave her face even more character, and she wasn't lacking any before.
"Right, all set up. You'll have to get him out of those wet clothes and under some blankets too, then get yourself to bed. You both need rest"
Her motherly tone always amused him. He nodded and waited for her to leave before carefully removing Piccolo's clothes. Gohan felt a strange nervousness at first. He had seen Piccolo undress before, sure, but he hadn't ever taken the clothes off an unconscious man before. He realised that it didn't phase him as much as it might have before all this happened. That naivety he once had was only an echo now. He averted his eyes when necessary but took a moment to let his fingers move along the grooves on the jade skin of his stomach, tracing the dark pink line around the natural body armour of his abs. His hands told him how real this all was, how his mentor's skin felt strangely soft and was warming up, and he could feel his stomach move up and down as he breathed. Gohan closed his eyes against the feeling and placed his palm flat against Piccolo's chest. There, underneath his hand, Piccolo's heart beat.
Piccolo awoke to the sound of electrical beeping, rumbling and the sensation of something digging into his cheeks. He opened heavy eyes and expected to see wet grass but instead, frowned. What?
The ceiling above him was cream in colour and a crack was beginning to show itself. He tried to look down, though it took a little effort. He was covered in some soft materials and he realised that he was warm. Comfortable even. It was a bed and he noticed to his chagrin that he was too big for it, his broad shoulders just about fit but his legs did not. He brought a hand up to remove the irritating thing that was on his face but as he did, he froze. To his left, a man sat in a chair that was too small for his bulky frame, head thrown back and snoring intermittently. The vivid orange gi was unmistakable and his first thought was Goku but it didn't sound right. The chi told him who it was but he tried to ignore it. A scar ran up the left side of the man's face but he could plainly see, the face he knew. He knew it like he knew his own.
Onyx eyes widened in disbelief, his hand still gripping the plastic covering his mouth and nose. His mind started to whir. Is that...No. Gohan's only seven years old. No.
He removed the plastic thing, immediately frustrated that it had some kind of band wrapped around his head. Cold air rushed into his lungs and his eyes widened again when he started to cough. Every cough was accompanied by a piercing pain in his chest and he cursed at himself for it as he realised that the man had woken up now and was standing up. Even through the wracking in his lungs he could plainly see Gohan's face and the unmistakable large brown eyes. His voice only confirmed it.
"You need to put the breathing mask back on"
He pushed the mask back over his mouth and nose despite Piccolo's protests. He looked down with tired, kind eyes. Piccolo's shock was the only reason he didn't scowl.
"Gohan?"
The demi Saiyan smiled then, and Piccolo noticed that it looked a little unpracticed. Not the all encompassing smile he was used to seeing.
"I'm here, do you remember what happened? I thought...you died. I mean you did die. How did you come back?"
Piccolo felt like every question asked a thousand more and the constant feeling of confusion was now giving him a more familiar feeling; anger. He sat up this time, waving Gohan away, and removed the mask. He was careful to breathe slowly this time.
"Stop it, i'm not some human that needs looking after"
Gohan crossed his arms then, and in the light Piccolo could see the scar on his face clearly now.
"What do you mean i'm dead? Where am I?" And who are you, really?
Hesitation made Gohan pause and he uncrossed his arms again, placing one of his hands on Piccolo's arm. The Namek looked down at it and it's audacity.
"Don't you remember?"
Piccolo snarled a little then. He couldn't help it, the situation was too ridiculous.
"Clearly not"
"The androids...they killed you and...everyone"
Piccolo balked at that. Everyone? What do you mean? Have I really been dead so long that you're what? Twenty years older?
"Everyone is dead?"
Gohan's eyes softened then, in muted sympathy. He watched Piccolo's features fall and he thought then, that he looked younger than he remembered. It's funny how the mind plays tricks.
"I don't even know what an android is. The last thing I remember was training and then I woke up. I was lying in the dirt...that must be where you found me"
Gohan nodded but the Namek continued, his tone a little subdued.
"But the last time I remember you, you were...seven years old"
Dark brown eyes widened at that and Piccolo watched his reaction. His student had grown so much, physically, but there was an awareness in his eyes that was well worn with something Piccolo knew only too well; misery. There was a sorrow sitting in those big brown eyes. He felt confronted by it, by its maturity and something else. Those orbs were wise, well aware of the horrors of the world. As he looked up at Gohan's serious face, he felt something weighty in his own chest. He recognised it immediately; sadness. The Gohan he knew was so full of life.
"How can that be?"
"I don't know but...I don't remember dying, or any androids"
Gohan was thinking then, suddenly focused and whimsical as he raised a hand to his chin. Arms clenched and the muscle there twitched in barely hidden frustration. Piccolo could see the strength there, swimming beneath the skin, and pride welled within him. You've become quite the warrior Gohan.
If that's who you really are.
As he thought, Piccolo made a move to get up but stopped. A faint purple then began to appear on his cheek bones and at the tips of his ears. Gohan noticed and raised an eyebrow. The Namek explained, his tone filled with irritation and probably exhaustion.
"I'm naked"
"Oh right! I'll...see if I can grab something to fit you"
Piccolo opened his mouth to object before realising that he didn't have the energy to materialise any clothes. He closed it again and Gohan quickly left the room. Piccolo removed monitors and other things whilst he waited and alarms began to sound. Bulma came rushing in, her blue locks in disarray and wearing a quickly put on shorts and t-shirt that read "fight team". She came to a stop when she saw that Piccolo was awake with hands clamped over his ears.
"Oh! Haven't you healed quick! Best take it easy though"
She smiled and silenced the heart rate monitor alarm.
"It's so good to see you"
The smile was so genuine and Piccolo even started to believe then that he must still be dead and this was just another type of hell. She placed a hand on his arm and he moved it out of her grasp. He didn't respond and she hesitated before Gohan came in behind her.
"Oh Bulma! Sorry, I should have disconnected the monitor when he woke up"
She laughed a little.
"No it's fine, Trunks didn't even wake up. Warrior my ass"
Gohan laughed a little too. Piccolo just watched, feeling more and more like this didn't make sense. Who on earth is Trunks? Oh, probably her human mate.
"Nothing wakes that kid. Well, you'll be pleased to know that our guest looks a lot better this morning"
"I told ya!" she winked.
He put his hand behind his head then, in true Son fashion.
"Yeah, only, he seems to have lost his memory...he doesn't remember dying, the androids, or...anything actually, not since I was seven"
Bulma's features faltered then. She looked at Piccolo with the look that a scientist gives an experiment that they're about to start and he scowled. She moved closer and his skin began to crawl at the proximity. The faint smell of soap graced his senses.
"You know, I did notice something on the scans I took. I didn't take any notice, it was so late and i just thought it was a mistake but…"
She dug around in the tray of medical supplies and pulled out the handheld device, switched it on and scanned him again. A few beeps sounded and Piccolo felt the noise dig into his skull. She showed it to Gohan.
"See here, this just..should be showing a different reading. I have plenty of Namekian data and according to this, he's only been alive for about a decade, albeit an adult for the most part. And...I checked my monitoring equipment for the androids last night. To pick up any electrical energy and…"
She pulled out a piece of paper with a printout and showed it to Gohan, who was only loosely following Bulma's excited rambling.
"Look at this spike in energy, and the type of radiation!"
Gohan opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off.
"I mean look at him, doesn't he look...young to you?"
Gohan looked at Piccolo then, who was sat with an contemptuous frown on his features.
"Now you mention it, I suppose he does look kind of young. But Namek's always look young, they live for a long time Bulma"
"I know that! But what i'm saying is...I don't think this is our Piccolo"
Gohan crossed his arms again. Piccolo noticed it. Did he get that from me?
Piccolo's gravelly tones made them both turn towards him.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I don't think your the same Piccolo that died here. I think you're from the past"
She said it with such conviction that Gohan wondered how she could come to such a conclusion.
"How could that even happen?"
She prodded him in the chest.
"I recognise these readings because i'm working on something myself, a little temporal experiment"
Piccolo tried to digest the information but he couldn't reconcile it in his head.
"I don't exactly recall getting in a time machine"
Gohan's eyes were serious again and Piccolo felt that distant pang as he spoke.
"Well, if you are from the past, we need to find out who brought you here...and why. The Androids have nearly destroyed this world and killed everyone. There is no future here"
Bulma looked down, biting her lip with a forlorn look in her eyes. Gohan said it with such disregard, so matter of fact. He placed some clothes on the armchair beside Piccolo's bed and ushered Bulma out of the room, leaving a stunned Piccolo still sitting up in bed. Minutes passed and he didn't move. He wondered if this was just a very long nightmare, or maybe he'd suffered a head injury. Either that, or I really did die, and this is my hell.
Please R&R!