Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Note: At this point, I begin to condense the original timeline of the series. Example: In the series, I believe it takes over about a year and a half for Goku to return to Earth after the events on Namek. In my version, that time period only spans ten months. Don't ask me why I did that…I honestly can't remember my reasoning. Anyway, in the future the details will probably be edited to be more consistent with the timeline of the series. But for now, pretend that everything happened as it was, but sooner. : ) Enjoy, and don't forget to feed my muse by leaving a review!
CHAPTER THREE: WASTING TIME
GOHAN
As he leaned his head against a soft bed of grass, Son Gohan gazed thoughtfully up at the night sky. The void above him was like a canvas covered with the blackest ink, and sprinkled with a scattering of twinkling diamonds. The boy sighed, absentmindedly counting each sparkling dot in his head, and wondering where his father was among the stars.
It had been nearly a year since he'd been sure he'd lose his young life on Planet Namek, when his father had miraculously appeared and somehow saved them all. His heroism was now the only salve Gohan could apply to the emotional pain he felt when he thought about his father. He didn't understand why Goku—the famed Super Saiyan of legend and his father—had refused to return home. It had been months and months ago that he and his friends had summoned Porunga, the Namekian eternal dragon, and attempted to wish him back to life. He still remembered the feeling of his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach, when the dragon had told them that their wish couldn't be granted. Thankfully, the mystical creature had more than just that to say: Goku had never died on Namek, and he was in space, and he had told the dragon that he didn't wish to return.
Gohan felt the corners of his mouth curve into an unpleasant frown at the thought. Why did his father not want to come back to Earth? Didn't he want to see him? Didn't he want to see his wife or his friends, who had since been revived? The boy sighed in his frustration. He had so many questions, and only the empty, dark sky to look to for an answer.
The half-Saiyan boy felt a very large, brown shoe crush a lump of grass near his head, and he looked up into the stern, serious face of his mentor.
"Piccolo," he breathed, his frown melting into a wide smile.
"You should be inside sleeping at this hour," replied the Namekian warrior.
Gohan made a short noise of complaint, and looked up at Piccolo with pleading eyes. The Namek did not move, so neither did the boy. Instead, both of them turned their eyes upward, towards the night sky. Gohan grimaced as his thoughts returned to his absent father.
"Piccolo, when do you think my father will come back?" he asked.
He could practically hear the frown on his mentor's face as he responded. "Gohan, we've had this conversation before, and each time I've given you the same answer. I don't see the point in repeating everything."
"It's just…it's almost been a year, and we haven't heard anything from him," the boy explained. "We haven't even heard from Vegeta, and he's been looking for him in space for months!"
"You should be glad of that fact," Piccolo said, an unhappy edge in his voice. "Vegeta's not looking to bring Goku back when he finds him, Gohan. You know that."
"Bulma says he just wants to become a Super Saiyan," the boy replied.
"Since when did Bulma know so much about Vegeta?" the Namek growled bitterly.
Gohan raised his eyes and smiled playfully. "I guess since he figured out that Bulma's mother's cooking is better than what he can catch out in the wilderness."
Piccolo looked down at the boy for a moment, but didn't respond. Gohan raised his eyebrows and changed the subject. "Do you think my dad is doing alright out there?"
"Goku will be fine on his own," Piccolo said. "You forget that before Bulma met him, he'd spent most of his life living completely alone right here, in these mountains."
"Maybe he liked it better that way," Gohan muttered, his tone tainted with cynicism. "And that's why he refused to come back."
As soon as the words had come out of his mouth, Gohan regretted them. He cast his gaze back towards his mentor, who met his eyes with a disappointed scowl.
"It's just that—it's been so long! And he told the dragon he'd come back, but he hasn't yet!" The boy ripped his gaze away and searched frantically for a way to explain his feelings. "It just feels like…like he doesn't care…"
He sat up and glanced at Piccolo again, prepared to meet the Namekian's heated gaze and maybe a stern lecture. Instead, when Piccolo glanced at him, his expression seemed saddened, as if he had been cut by the boy's resentful remarks. Gohan bit his lip and hung his head, waiting anxiously to hear his mentor's response.
"Gohan," Piccolo began slowly, turning his head again towards the stars. "When the sun rises, where do the stars go?"
The boy furrowed his brow, confused by the question. "They…they don't go anywhere. They stay in the same place; you just can't see them."
"It's the same way with the way people feel about each other," the Namekian explained. "Just because you don't see them, doesn't mean they aren't there in spirit. Your dad is out there somewhere. He may not be ready to come back yet. But that doesn't mean that he has stopped caring about you."
Gohan placed his head in his hands, stewing in his guilt. "I'm sorry, Piccolo. You're right. I didn't mean what I said."
"I know you didn't, kid."
The two warriors fell silent again, both of them casting their gazes back into the infinite void of stars. Gohan leaned back down onto the bed of grass again, his hands resting behind his head. He hoped that Piccolo was right, and that his father was just not ready to come home, for whatever reason. All the boy knew was that he missed his father terribly, and wanted nothing more to see him again. But his friend and mentor was wise, and he trusted his words. His father would come back to Earth eventually.
Gohan only hoped he wouldn't have too much longer to wait.
PICCOLO
After their short conversation, it hadn't taken very long for Gohan to feel the seductive lull of sleep. His eyes eventually fluttered closed Piccolo was soon listening to the soft sound of his snores. The Namekian warrior had scooped up the half-Saiyan boy and deposited him in his room, so his human mother wouldn't be alerted to the boy's absence during the night and wake the entire forest screaming. Afterward, he stood outside Gohan's bedroom window, gazing up once again at the stars and contemplating where the boy's father and his former rival had gone—and whether he'd return.
Thoughts of Goku brought Piccolo back to the day he'd nearly died—for the second time—on Planet Namek. He'd wondered doubtfully for a time if the outrageously powerful and constantly shifting energies he'd felt on Namek had been some kind of mild delusion brought on by his massive blood loss. But as time went on, he grew more and more certain that he'd felt something change in Goku's energy. Something dark had latched on to it, swallowed it whole, and set it afire.
It was a troublesome thought to think of, but as time went on and Goku didn't emerge from the heavens, Piccolo wondered if the Saiyan warrior had meant for it to be that way. After all, he'd refused to come home when wished for by his friends, instead asking the eternal dragon to pass on the message that he'd "come back later."
The Namekian felt a frown cross his features, and he glanced back towards the Son homestead. It was obvious Gohan felt that "later" had long since passed, and that he was beginning to grow bitter with his father's absence. It would only be so long that Piccolo's anecdotes would satisfy the young boy, and then what? He'd be forced to accept one day that Goku might never come back.
With each day that passed without any sign of the Saiyan, the day that Gohan and Goku's other friends and family would have to face reality was coming ever closer. It was a day that Piccolo, however steely his resolve, was dreading. Goku was the Earth's savior several times over, and the hole he'd leave in many people's hearts would be huge.
Piccolo now freely admitted that he'd be one of those people. Goku had evolved from hated rival, to reluctant ally, to someone Piccolo respected immensely. Not only did he respect him, but he cared very much about his son—so much that he'd not hesitate giving up his life for him again. The Saiyan warrior's choice not to return to Earth had opened up a chasm in the Namekian's stone heart too. But the sting of Goku's absence that Piccolo felt was nothing compared to what Gohan was feeling.
As his eyes swept across the night sky one last time, a lone, dark cloud steadily moved in and blocked his view of the stars. Piccolo frowned again, a similar dark presence clouding his mind.
Goku, for whatever reason you're out there, he thought, I know it's a good one. I wish you luck, my friend.
With one final sigh and a last glance towards the Son home, the Namekian warrior silently stalked into the shadowy solitude of the forest to await yet another day.
KING COLD
"What do you mean, 'We'll be there tomorrow'?"
King Cold's face withered into a dangerous scowl, and his many officers shrank away, remembering what their leader had done to countless others who had displeased him. The massive Arcosian tyrant easily towered over the quivering navigational officer who had just now relayed the news of their anticipated—albeit late—arrival to Planet Earth.
Unluckily for the terrified navigator, lateness was not something King Cold tolerated. It had been exactly point eight-three Earth years—or ten Earth months—since the tyrant had learned the tragic news of his youngest son's death. Ten months had passed, each more torturously boring than the last, and now, due to some navigational error, he would be forced to wait one more day for his revenge. For King Cold, such a mistake—however slight—was unacceptable.
In a panic, the offending officer began to beg his superior's understanding and mercy, but to no avail. "My Lord, it took much longer than anticipated to navigate through this solar system's complex ring of asteroids. We'll still arrive—"
The sound of the panicked alien's voice was abruptly cut off by the sickening sound of twisting, tearing ligaments, and the grinding of bone against bone. A split second later, King Cold tossed the navigator's decapitated head onto the floor. His body fell out of his chair with a nauseating thud.
"I will not tolerate errors," King Cold announced to the entire bridge, "especially not when I have demonstrated such extraordinary patience on our journey. Somebody fill his seat and get me to Planet Earth, so I can finally avenge my son."
Another alien shakily approached and reluctantly slid into the dispatched officer's seat. He typed in some coordinates and blinked as the results popped up on the bright screen in front of him.
"My Lord Cold, our estimated time of arrival to Earth is—"
"I was just told when we'll arrive," King Cold snapped, although he resisted the urge to decapitate another fool. "Scan the planet and find a suitable basin where the ship won't be damaged when I begin purging that planet of all its life forms."
"It's already been done, my Lord. Everything is ready."
"Good," the Arcosian growled, and he returned to his massive throne at the center of the bridge.
As a result this minor navigational problem, King Cold was still in quite a distasteful mood. He shouldn't have had to work this hard to make everything work properly on his ship. That's what the minions were for, and they seemed only skilled at displeasing him and then literally losing their heads in his presence. Frowning, the great Arcosian king looked out past the ship's windows, and watched as a planet with an unusually red surface came into view. It was still just a speck in the distance, but due to its brilliant color it was hard not to notice. King Cold's eyes scanned the black void of space methodically, searching for the planet he was targeting.
Finally, after a few moments, he spotted it. At this distance, it was almost impossible to differentiate from a usual star, but if one looked hard enough they could see that it shimmered with a faint blue light.
King Cold finally grinned, and the stretched feeling in his facial muscles told him it had been a very long time since that expression had crossed his features. It had been a bitter ten Earth months, but his mood brightened when he thought of unleashing every bit of pain and anguish he'd felt tenfold upon the Earth's inhabitants. He would cover Earth's surface with the blood and brains and innards of every single Earthling. He would relish every plea for mercy, and every strangled scream of pain that would follow. And, of course, there were the dragon balls to think of as well, and his Frieza's imminent resurrection.
He only had a few hours left to wait.
GOKU
Breathe in…
Goku saw within himself, seeking out the part in him that he wanted to conquer. He didn't have to dig deep, for the beast inside him had only retreated into the darkness that lingered at the ragged edges of his conscience. He knew for certain now that it was the Super Saiyan transformation that had triggered its awakening on Namek, because he'd tried to transform again a month later on an uninhabited planet.
Breathe out…
When he'd awoken again from the rage-filled haze, the planet had been completely obliterated. Not in the sense that he'd decimated its surface—it simply ceased to exist. Again, he didn't quite remember how he'd gotten into his space pod, attributing it only to the monster's instinct of self-preservation.
Breathe in…
The Saiyan warrior remembered a far off, naïve time in his life where he'd looked up at the night sky and wondered what it must be like to explore the endless expanse. He now understood that space was a void of near nothingness that sucked the energy from even the hardiest personalities. It had taken mere days for the boredom and loneliness to consume him as he traveled through the stars, but he resisted the temptation to seek out new life on other worlds, and he'd completely forbidden himself from even thinking about returning to Earth, even turning away the eternal dragon's offer to bring him back. He knew his friends would be devastated to find out that he didn't want to return to his home, but Goku knew it had to be as such.
It was better this way.
Breathe out…
Eventually, he'd come across a small, hidden planet floating in a lazy, slow arch around a nebula of stars, and landed to search for food and water. Goku had been surprised to find that the planet had humanoids living on it, and the inhabitants of the planet were sophisticated beings with cities, religion, and government. They even understood how to harness and use energy in the same way Saiyans, Nameks, and Arcosians did. They called themselves and their planet "Yardrat."
Breathe in…
Despite his knowledge of the danger his presence posed to the planet, Goku hadn't been able to resist remaining on a planet with life and no trace of loneliness. The Yardrats were kind to him: They had granted him immediate shelter, showered him with food (which he gratefully devoured in copious quantities), and offered to teach him their ways. Wise and philosophical, though not physically strong, the Yardrats could manipulate energy in extraordinary ways. They understood how to influence molecules and had perfected something Goku had come to know as "Instant Transmission." The Yardrats used it to transfer goods back and forth instantaneously, but the Saiyan recognized the hidden potential in the technique and had made it a point to learn it quickly. That way, if he felt the monster within him rise again, he'd be able to get off the planet and spare its inhabitants from the destruction.
Breathe out…
Meditation was another thing the Yardrats had impressed upon him; however, this was a skill that Goku was struggling with. He'd mastered focusing on his breathing quickly enough, but he couldn't clear his mind. Every time he thought he'd gotten close, his fears would swoop in and shatter the calm. He was simply too frightened of what had happened on Namek to move on, despite it having been nearly a year since the terrible events. Today, Goku was determined to make it past his terror—to beat the monster inside—and achieve inner tranquility.
Breathe in…
Today, however, it would be fear striking from the outside that would interrupt his meditation. Goku's eyes snapped open, and he exhaled the slow breath he'd just taken in. An echo moving light-years away resonated inside his skull, alerting him to potential danger.
An energy signature. He felt it.
Goku closed his eyes again and concentrated, zooming in on the trace of energy like one would adjust a microscope. Whatever it was emitting this energy, it was powerful. Extremely powerful. The Saiyan gasped in a sudden realization as he explored the nature of the energy's source. It was a dark, evil entity emitting this energy; it was tainted.
It felt like Frieza.
The warrior opened his eyes and shook his head in denial. It was Frieza's power—or something extraordinarily similar to it—that he felt. How was such a thing possible? It couldn't be him. It was moving at amazing speed—so much that the Saiyan warrior concluded that whoever the signature belonged to must be on a ship of some kind. But where were they headed? Goku glanced up into the sky, through the hazy atmosphere towards the stars. One of the first things he'd done after the Yardrats had accepted him into their society was ask them about their knowledge of astronomy. He'd wanted to know if he could see Earth's sun from here, so he could glance up and see one reminder of the home he'd resolved to abandon. Thankfully, Yardrat's location was perfect for viewing Earth's sun with the naked eye, and now he stared up with terror ripping at his insides at the familiar, flickering point of light.
The energy signature was headed for Earth.
Goku felt nausea begin to rise up in him at such a thought. Whether it was Frieza was unimportant; the only thing he knew was that an extremely dark and powerful force was rocketing through space towards his home. His family and friends' faces flashed through his consciousness for the millionth time since he'd made the decision to abandon them in favor of keeping them safe from the darkness that resided within him. It had never occurred to Goku that another, even more evil source of terror would target Earth.
And now he'd not be there to defend it.
Panic gripped him, and the Saiyan felt his shaky legs begin to move, and then break out into a sheer run. He ripped through the forest around him, back to the hanger where he knew his space pod was being stored by the Yardrat engineers. Goku passed several of the short, startled aliens, but didn't even acknowledge their presence. His family, his friends, his home—they were all in terrible danger, and he had no choice.
He had to leave. He had to return to Earth.
Another icy hand of fear gripped him, and Goku thought of his continuing struggle to control himself in his Super Saiyan form. He'd been lucky on Namek; there'd been nobody on the planet besides Frieza that he could've hurt when he'd lost control of himself. But on Earth, with its billions of inhabitants, things could turn out very differently if he failed to keep the monster crawling just beneath the surface of his skin in check. The Saiyan resolved that whatever foe he was about to face, he'd have to defeat them without using the power his Super Saiyan form gave him. He refused to transform so long as there was a chance that he'd destroy the planet, or hurt anyone he loved.
As he reached the hanger and his pod, and was hastily punching numbers into the keypad to make the door open, Goku thought one more time to the extraordinarily powerful, malevolent force he'd felt moments earlier.
He'd been no match for Frieza before his Super Saiyan transformation, and this person had been just as strong. He was certainly flying towards his own death. But what other choice did he have? He couldn't stay here and watch from afar as his home planet was destroyed.
The door to the pod swung open, and he hopped in. The pod's computer had already been set to Earth's coordinates by one of the Yardrat engineers, in case Goku would have decided to return to Earth of his own accord. As soon as the door had sealed again, he felt the shudder as the engines fired, and watched out the small porthole as the surface of Planet Yardrat shrank away from him as he ascended into space.
In an apathetic, computerized voice, the spacecraft's computer told him that his estimated time of arrival at Planet Earth was approximately twenty-three hours.
Goku rubbed his face with his long white sleeve, panting wildly from his long sprint. His entire body was drenched in a cold sweat as he tried to work things out in his mind. Twenty-three hours? That was less than a day. Surely his friends—and the rest of the Earth's population—would be able to survive twenty-three hours without his help. Once he was close enough to feel their energies, he'd be able to use his new technique to materialize on Earth and assist them.
He only hoped that he wouldn't be too late.
An additional author's note: Because I'm a detail-oriented freak and want my readers to be aware of the subtleties present in my writing, I'd like to point out a few small details: This chapter has to do with the passage of time and the characters' attitudes towards it.
Every character's third-person limited narrative—except Goku's—ends with a phrase that uses the word "wait." They're all waiting for something: Gohan for his father to return, Piccolo for the beginning of a new day and for everyone around him to realize Goku might not come back, and finally King Cold for his arrival to Earth. Goku's segment is different; his portion of the narrative ends with the words "too late." Now, if you are unsure how these little details are significant, go and look up the meaning of the word "foreshadowing."
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