I watched The History of Trunks while in a melodramatic, depressed mood and felt compelled to write this. Bring tissues. Credit goes to Boyz II Men and Mariah Carey for their song One Sweet Day.
I'd also like to dedicate this story to all those involved in the tragedies on September 11. Especially those who offered their compassion to complete strangers.
A Stranger's Compassion
Piccolo's world went black when Android Eighteen crushed the back of his skull with her fist. Everything exploded in pain when an intense blast ripped across his flesh. Jeering laughter echoed in his ears. The sensation of being watched prickled all over his skin. He tried to withstand what they were throwing. He tried to fight them off.
But he was losing and he knew it.
A blast from Android Seventeen sent Piccolo facedown onto the unforgiving concrete. For a moment he was completely paralyzed, but then sensation started to return in the form of mind-numbing agony.
He wanted to scream. His pride wouldn't let him.
Then he realized he couldn't hear the two Androids anymore. So, gritting his teeth from pain, he turned over onto his back and tried to stand. He gasped as soon as he moved and fell back into the dust. The blackness shrouding his vision seemed to deepen and become more complete.
He was permanently blind after the blow to the back of his head damaged his brain, and the tissue was starting to swell. Fifty percent of his green and pink skin was charred to the bone. His lungs were filling with fluid. Infections were working their way into his system through his wounds. There wasn't enough strength left in his body to regenerate or fight off the pathogens in his bloodstream.
He was dying.
Piccolo spent hours lying there alone in the rubble, afraid and alone. All of a sudden he heard a slight crumble off to his left and felt a gentle hand slide under his head to lift it while the a flask was tipped gently to his lips.
"Who?" He wondered softly. Trying to speak was like exhaling molten sand.
"Shh, just drink." Came an unfamiliar female voice. She sounded young, perhaps nine or ten years old.
Piccolo swallowed a few sips of water and turned his head to let the girl know he'd had enough. A few drops of the water he drank dribbled right back out through the corner of his mouth. He tried to adjust his position and felt pain unlike any he ever experienced shoot through his body. The sensation of being burned alive brought tears of blood rushing from his eyes. He swore and cried out until the pang passed, becoming aware that his cooling hand was being held between two warm ones.
"I can't die like this!" Piccolo cried weakly, "They need me...they...they all..."
~*Sorry I never told you
All I wanted to say.*~
One of the soft hands retreated and a gentle finger brushed away the tears escaping onto his aristocratic cheekbones. "You did your part. Just like you always did." The girl's voice was soft and comforting, "When I was little I saw pictures of you on the news. I think it was around the time those two aliens crashed into the city...I saw you fight them. You always stood apart from everyone else. All alone."
"I'm...used to it. I don't...unh...don't need..."
~*And now it's too late to hold you,
'Cause you've flown away, so far away.*~
There was a sad smile behind the girl's reply, "We all need love at some time or another." She paused, "Have you ever felt it before?"
Piccolo's first intention was to close his eyes and shut her out so he could die in peace and quiet. That also meant she would probably get up and leave, and he didn't want to be alone. "I came close, once, without understanding. Then I learned the nature of the feeling was inappropriate...so I shut myself away...and...Gohan...his name...words...unsaid..." He forgot the rest of what he wanted to say. His mind was starting to shut down as death crept closer, making the oblivion where his sense of sight used to be seem even darker. It was getting harder and more painful to breathe. The world started to seem unreal as it moved further away.
"Gohan? Did you say Gohan? I met a kid with that same name a long time ago..." The girl's warm hands moved, one sliding under his head and the other wrapping gently around his shoulders to press his ear up against the sound of a heartbeat. "Listen... Say the words you want to say and I'll make sure they get to him."
~*Never had I imagined
Living without your smile.*~
"How? You don't...you don't even know what he looks like now." Piccolo snapped, grunting in pain afterwards. His lungs seemed full of pebbles, the way every breath rattled.
"Just trust me. He'll get the message." She replied soothingly, "I'm listening."
Piccolo was silent for a long time as he tried to find the right words to go with his feelings. The way his mind kept fogging up made thinking very difficult. Especially because he kept forgetting how to think.
~*Feeling, and knowing you hear me,
It keeps me alive, alive.*~
He felt the hand under his head press his ear closer to the heartbeat. A movement that prompted his mind and mouth into action. "I'd say...say...'You're the best thing that ever happened to me, the son I never had. I'm sorry I never told you what I was feeling...I...I didn't think it was right and I didn't know how. Now I'm out of time and all I have left are words. So take them to heart. I love you, Son Gohan. I always will...'" A hot lump formed in the back of his throat and overflowed into his sightless black eyes when he realized he would never see Gohan's face again. His green cheeks were soon streaked tears.
~*And I know you're shining down on me from heaven,
Like so many friends we've lost along the way.*~
"He knows...I'm sure he knows. But I'll still make sure these words get to him." Her voice cracked and her tender hand moved up to wipe the tears from his cheeks again. "I think I know what he would say to you."
~*And I know eventually we'll be together
One sweet day.*~
A grunt was the only reply Piccolo gave, followed by a slightly more alert, "Then what...?"
The girl's clothing rustled when she shifted. "He'd say 'I knew all along and I forgive you. I love you too and I swear I'll never forget you.' Then he would lean down and give you a soft kiss, just like this," She leaned her shadowed face down and Piccolo felt warm softness touch his aching brow. It retreated as swiftly as it came, yet it seemed to last an eternity. Nobody had ever given him a kiss before, and he realized it really wasn't disgusting at all.
Piccolo stayed quiet for a long time after that. Hours or minutes, or even days, he didn't know for sure. The girl continued to hold him gently to her chest throughout his silence, the thumping of her heartbeat providing more comfort than she would ever know.
~*Darling, I never showed you,
Assumed you'd always be there.*~
Finally, he spoke again, barely louder than a whisper, "Why...why are you being so kind to someone you don't even know?"
Her silence stretched on for several moments. When she spoke again, her voice was very quiet, subdued and almost directly into his ear, "Because nobody deserves to suffer and die alone."
The reply satisfied Piccolo's brief curiosity. He realized the pain was fading from his body along with the rest of the world he knew. His entire life began swirling through his mind. He started to feel very sleepy and peaceful, and forgot that he was dying.
~*I, I took your presence for granted,
But I always cared and I miss the love we shared.*~
"I'm...I'm..." He stopped to pant for air. His lip quivered when one of his father's gruesome memories flashed by. "...am I a monster?"
"No." Her hand tilted his head upwards, probably towards her face. "You're beautiful."
~*And I know you're shining down on me from heaven,
Like so many friends we've lost along the way.*~
Another tear raced down Piccolo's dirty emerald cheek. A long time ago he probably wouldn't have cared what people said about him. But in that moment, when his heart was open and his soul was ready to emerge like a butterfly from its chrysalis, it meant everything. Especially since nobody had ever told him he was beautiful before.
~*And I know eventually we'll be together
One sweet day.*~
Time suddenly seemed to slow down in Piccolo's mind. Seconds dragged by like minutes and minutes dragged by like hours. The memories flashing through his mind started to slow in their violent swirl as darkness once again blanketed his vision.
"So...tired." He coughed and sputtered on his words. His lungs were completely full of blood and fluids and his skin was growing pale from lack of oxygen. The simple act of inhaling was taking as much effort as powering up. He was exhausted from trying.
~*Although the sun will never shine the same*~
"Then sleep. It's okay...I'll stay with you." The girl looked around and reached into the rubble to pull out a frayed purple tablecloth embroidered with tiny white flowers. She draped it over Piccolo's broken frame and returned her hand to the back of his head. "Let go. Stop trying to breathe. Stop trying to fight."
~*I'll always look to a brighter day.*~
Piccolo wasn't listening anymore. He was beyond pain and gasping for air he could barely drag into his lungs. A point of light sparkled to life in the center of his blackened vision, and he blinked rapidly. The glow refused to flicker as it rushed forward to engulf him. He found himself traveling smoothly down a colorful wormhole, heading towards an even brighter light in the distance, and the rest of the word began to fade into the distance.
His eyes widened. He tried to tell the girl what he was seeing, but his vocal cords didn't want to work. The only sound he managed was a soft, gurgling moan.
~*Lord, I know when I lay me down to sleep*~
"Shhh...don't try to talk. It's okay..." The girl stroked his brow as delicately as she would to smooth a child's unruly hair. She watched Piccolo's pained expression become one of awe. Piccolo closed his mouth and smiled faintly to thank the girl for her kindness. Then his dark eyes flickered and drifted shut. His efforts to breathe diminished until, with a quiet wheeze and a noisy exhalation, the rise and fall of his chest came to an abrupt halt.
"Yes, you're doing it." The girl whispered in a voice filled with sorrow and hope. She cupped Piccolo's face in her palm and watched his lips gradually turn purple from lack of oxygen. "Now tell your heart to be still." Her hand moved away from his cheek and came to rest on the weakly throbbing part of his chest. Almost on command his heart squeezed out two more beats and stopped halfway through the third.
And, just like that, Piccolo quietly died in the arms of a stranger whose face he never saw, whose name he never knew and whose compassion had allowed him to spend his final moments without regret.
~*You will always listen as I pray.*~
"There...it's all over. No more pain..." The girl bowed her head and cried softly over the peaceful corpse of the stranger whose story she would never hear, whose name she would never know and whose soul she had allowed to be set free without sorrow.
She continued to hold him, rocking him back and forth and whispering soothing words into his ear. Only when his skin had become pale and colder than ice did she lower him to the ground, fold his hands on his navel and slip something between them. "Goodbye, green angel. Rest in peace."
~*And I know you're shining down on me from heaven,
Like so many friends we've lost along the way.*~
A few days later, Gohan soared above the city in search of his elusive green friend. Piccolo had been known to disappear for one or two days at a time, but three? Three was too long. Especially at a time like this.
~*And I know eventually we'll be together
One sweet day.*~
Gohan's eyes grazed something green lying in the rubble. His wild black hair bristled. "Piccolo? Piccolo!"
The eleven-year-old dove from the sky and landed beside the fallen Namekian warrior. Piccolo was lying on his back with his hands folded across his navel and a soft tablecloth pulled up to his waist. He looked as if he'd just settled down to sleep for awhile. His filthy arms and hands were burnt and caked with dry blood that gave off a foul smell. Bruises and wounds marked how hard he was fighting before he was mortally wounded. Yet, somehow despite the condition and obvious pain he must have been in, he was wearing a faint smile.
~*And I know you're shining down on me from heaven,
Like so many friends we've lost along the way.*~
Gohan needed only a moment to realize Piccolo was no longer alive. He laid his hand across the top of his frozen scalp and hung his head sadly. Bitter tears stung in his dark eyes. "Piccolo...no..." Something white trembled between the Namek's thin fingers, catching Gohan's notice. "What's this?" He reached for Piccolo's stiff hands and extracted a piece of crisp paper. He unfolded it and discovered it was a note written in neat handwriting.
~*And I know eventually we'll be together
One sweet day.*~
Dear Gohan,
You may not remember me, but I remember you. Your friend told me your name I remembered when we met on that island. We were kids and we hung around with Pigero. Remember? Sometimes I wonder if you still have that sword you had back then.
Your friend was dying, all alone and in pain. I stopped and stayed with him so he wouldn't die all alone. We talked until he was too weak to speak anymore. He told me he had something to say to you. Something he couldn't bring himself to tell you until now.
It goes as follows:
"You're the best thing that ever happened to me, the son I never had. I'm sorry I never told you what I was feeling. I didn't think it was right and I didn't know how. Now I'm out of time and all I have left are words. So take them to heart. I love you, Son Gohan. I always will."
I'm sorry you had to lose such a wonderful person, Gohan. I wish I could stay to tell you what he had to say face to face. But my family and friends need me just as much as yours still need you.
Take care of yourself and stay out of trouble.
Sincerely,
Chico
The tear-stained paper shook as Gohan lowered it and looked down at Piccolo. He leaned down to press a brief kiss into his bloodstained brow and cradled his head in his lap. "Oh, Piccolo, I'm so sorry!" He started to sob softly, "I knew all along and I never told you. You were like a second father to me and I was too afraid to say so." Tears and snot were streaming down his face from the power of his emotions. "You probably can't hear me anymore but...if you can...listen. I love you too and I swear I'll never forget you..."
"Gohan! C'mon! They're coming!" Tienshinhan's voice came down from above.
~*Sorry I never told you
all I wanted to say...*~
Gohan hefted Piccolo's limp body over his shoulder, took to the air and followed Tienshinhan out of the area. They flew out of the city and landed in the woods near the Son residence, where Gohan gently lowered Piccolo onto a small patch of soft flowers.
Lying there with delicate white petals framing his calm face and battered body made Piccolo look suddenly fragile. Gohan wished he could clean him off and give him a proper burial, but there just wasn't time. The only thing he could do was toss a small hoi poi Capsule onto the ground and pick up the small sword that appeared when the smoke cleared. He then reached over, placed it blade-down on Piccolo's stomach and laid his lifeless hands over the stubby brown handle.
"Gohan," Tienshinhan mournfully laid a hand on Gohan's shoulder, "I'm sorry. He was a great fighter and a good man."
Gohan brushed the tears off his face and looked up sadly. He knew Piccolo wouldn't want him to cry. "Yeah..."
"They're coming," Said Tienshinhan gruffly, his third eye watching the horizon nervously. A pillar of smoke was rising from where Piccolo's body was found. "We have to go."
"Right." Gohan hardened his expression. He cast one last look at Piccolo's serene form lying among the soft flowers and watched as sunlight filtered through the trees to create dancing patterns on his skin. Occasional shimmers would race down the length of the silver blade placed so gently beneath his hands. The flowers seemed to be leaning towards him like a thousand comforting hands that caressed the horrid wounds he no longer felt. A leaf drifted down to land softly on his cheek as the tree he was placed under seemed to kiss him goodbye.
It was a vision Gohan would never forget for as long as he lived. "Goodbye, Piccolo."
"Goodbye," Tienshinhan echoed.
The two warriors took to the skies and streaked off into the distance.
Many years later, after the Androids were gone and the war was over, a construction crew was preparing to start digging when they happened across two objects sitting in a patch flowers under a tree.
One was a sword.
The other was a calcified heart frozen in mid-beat.