The Friction

I'd like to thank everyone once again for their reviews, and apologies that this has taken so long to update. Things are a little slow to begin but I am going somewhere with this, I promise.

Dislcaimer: I don't own DBZ, any of its characters or contents

Chapter Four

Piccolo had frozen in place, his eyes wide, with talons trying to grind into stone. The creature in front of him was bleeding into the water and he felt bile rise in his throat as the dark substance snaked towards him. This thing used to be a human, he was certain. He had seen it before, bright green eyes sparkling in defiance even as he was dealt his death blow. The sparkling green had dulled and under decaying eye lids sat dead eyes. He wrinkled his nose as the stench of old blood and rot reached his nostrils and tried to lean back further into the marble. Piccolo swallowed an undignified groan as the person started to wade through the water towards him. Frantic, he made to jump out of the water but it clawed him back down. It's bone grip held him firmly in place as he thrashed around, splashing water into his own face. His thoughts recoiled in frantic search of logic, this was impossible. This boy had died at the hands of his Sire, the potent memory crashing to the forefront of his mind.

He could barely hear his own shouting as the young man's soft nails dug into his forearms. As he was shoved under the water again, the eyes staring down at him turned to brown and he blinked moisture from his eyes as he levered himself upright. The hands were still tight but suddenly they were gentle, solid and most importantly, warm. He coughed and blinked, finding himself utterly confused at the person before him.

Gohan's wide concerned eyes peered at him, only inches from his face. He stilled, breathing heavily, staring down at the demi Saiyan's tanned hands where they held him. Gohan's soaked shirt clung to taut arms as he knelt in the water in front of Piccolo, hair curling where the water had caught it. He looked at his mentor, who was flushed purple and shaking under his fingers. Not once had he seen Piccolo so dishevelled, so undone. What on earth is going on?

Gohan's features belayed his concern and Piccolo identified that look immediately, composing himself with remarkable speed, and effort. Taking a quick look around the room, he nervously glanced, seeing Goku, Krillin and Dende. Concern lay heavy in their eyes as they stood, uncertain and worried. He belatedly realised that he was naked, even more exposed as he had successfully emptied a third of the bath water in his exertions. His right foot was still braced against Gohan's thigh and he withdrew both his legs, drawing them towards his chest in modesty. Gohan loosened his grip then, rubbing the Namek's arms as he did, in an attempt at reassurance.

He had ventured into the hall to speak with his father and Krillin when he had first heard Piccolo. The sounds of shouting and choking met him as he kicked the bathroom door open, running to the large bath where his mentor was being attacked. Piccolo had been thrashing and kicking at something in the darkness and Gohan had practically flew into the water to protect him. He looked on stricken as Piccolo struggled in front of him and he shouted at his friend to stop. There was no one else there. He found himself being subject to the onslaught before he could grab the Namek's arms. It had taken over a minute for Piccolo to realise that it was Gohan, recognition finally reaching his eyes. Piccolo had been fighting the air, defending himself from some imaginary assailant.

Gohan glanced at Goku and nodded, his worried eyes asking for privacy. He walked out of the room, closely followed by Krillin and Dende. He then turned to his mentor and spoke, making sure his words were slow and clear.

"Are you okay?"

Piccolo had not felt so confused, and he quickly became angry at it, growling out his response.

"I'm fine"

Gohan raised an eye brow and inched forward on his knees, watching his mentor carefully. Water sloshed in a ripple as he moved. He placed his hands firmly on Piccolo's shoulders.

"What happened?"

Piccolo didn't answer. He was beginning to think that he had imagined the boy, he had lost himself to his imagination before, confusing his father's memories with reality when he was young. But to this extent? That was new. The water began to rise again as the bath replenished itself. Gohan, realising that his mentor was most likely going to ignore any further questions, stood and climbed over the edge. He pulled off his shirt and grabbed a towel, walking back towards the large tub.

"Come on"

Piccolo scowled. He resented being handled with kids gloves and following orders but in this instance, he was willing to overlook it to get out of that room. His former student averted his gaze and listened as Piccolo stood, walking forward with the towel and wrapping it around his mentor. He would have chuckled at Piccolo's growl at being manhandled if he weren't so consumed with worry. Piccolo stalked away from Gohan to the other side of the room. He dried himself and quickly dressed, secretly grateful that his student had decided to stick around for the time being. They both left, though Gohan led Piccolo into one of the rooms lining the hall. It was a single bedroom, tidy and clean.

The Namek frowned, he wondered if Mr Popo could have supplied them all with rooms after all, and had decided to keep their visitors in the conference room on purpose. To keep an eye on them.

Piccolo stood at the entrance and crossed his arms, his thoughts a whirlpool, swimming with anxiety. Gohan motioned for his mentor to sit on the bed, sitting there himself also. After a moments silence, Piccolo acquiesced and sat down, though he did so reluctantly. The demi Saiyan's tone was deadly serious as he spoke.

"I need to know what happened"

The Namek pushed himself back and leaned against the wall. Flashes of green eyes, one set bright and alive, the other empty and dead, stole his thoughts as he replied.

"There was a boy"

Gohan knitted his brows but waited for Piccolo to continue.

"He attacked me" Piccolo didn't really want to go into detail. Gohan encouraged him.

"There was no one there when I came in. Did you get a good look? Was it one of Zak's or…Daimao's?"

Piccolo shook his head. "No"

Gohan's expression became stern and he was glad that Piccolo was behind him. I know that son of a bitch has something to do with it. He said nothing as the Namek continued.

"He was angry and he was choking me" Piccolo didn't elaborate, Gohan didn't need to know that the boy was dead.

Gohan then spoke, offering an explanation.

"When I came in, you fought me…Is it possible that it was somehow Daimao. It was some trick?"

Piccolo scowled, not entertaining that idea for a second.

"No, It was real" Now he felt utterly stupid. Of course it wasn't real, the boy was dead.

Gohan turned around then, looking at Piccolo with a concern that was now starting to piss him off.

"It's okay. We'll get to the bottom of this"

Gohan's voice was clear, but his eyes said something else. Piccolo felt unease crawl up his spine as he read the words there. I don't believe you.

They had both returned to the conference room. Though by that time most were asleep, or at least doing a pretty good job of faking it. No one would be getting any real rest tonight. Gohan cast his brown eyes about the room and swore under his breath at Daimao's absence. He followed Piccolo to their bed rolls, undressing to his boxers and slipping under the blanket. Piccolo remained stood, wondering if he should try and meditate, sort out his thoughts. He breathed in slowly but the thought of the boy's sickly pallid skin made his stomach turn and he decided against it, his dreams were strangely more forgiving than when he dove into meditation. He stripped to his soft trousers and followed suit. Gohan smiled at Piccolo as the Namek settled down, though it did nothing to ease Piccolo as he tried to sleep amongst murderers. You were like them once.

His mind's voice reminded him.

It was over an hour before Piccolo finally succumbed to sleep, exhaustion warring with paranoia until that point. Gohan had fallen asleep some time afterwards, though they slept lightly, some part of them aware of the danger they were knowingly putting themselves in. He took some solace that Dende had agreed to watch over the lot of them overnight but it was superficial. He watched as Piccolo drifted off, his muscles relaxing as the strain in his clenched jaw gave way to sleep. His mentor suddenly looked so much younger, gentle and calm in the barely useful light of one of the wall lamps.

Two hours had crawled by in the dead of night and Piccolo had rolled onto his side, one hand lying in front of his face. Daimao stood a couple of feet away, quietly contemplating his sleeping son. His dark eyes didn't betray any emotion, only glittering slightly as he crossed his arms. Among many things, he now considered his offspring to be utterly stupid, allowing himself to fall asleep amongst Zak and his lot. He was more than irritated that he was now standing guard. He was often considered to be evil, ruthless, psychotic. But Zak wasn't black and white like himself, he was a snake. Even now, the mercenary lay awake, his species didn't sleep though he seemed to enjoy pretending to.

Daimao returned his gaze back to Piccolo and watched as the younger man's face contorted for a moment and his breath quickened. The sleeping Namek rolled onto his back and moved his arms feebly before settling again. He mumbled something and Daimao's ears flickered to hear it, but he only caught one word.

"Azaka"

The older Namek narrowed his eyes. A strange sensation pooled in his chest, though it had been such a time since experiencing any emotion other than loathing, he couldn't identify it. His gaze drifted to Azaka, who was lying ramrod straight, his chest rising and falling in a calculated rhythm. At this distance, he wondered if the other man had heard it. He detested the mercenary, not because of his nature, but because a past he had long since forgotten was now thrust to the forefront of his mind. He scowled.

He remained standing over his child until the morning, more than aware that over half of the room's occupants were feigning rest. He hadn't known that Dende was watching them with keen eyes.

Piccolo's had woken long before he opened his eyes, listening to the hurried conversation from the other side of the room. He didn't catch a lot of it, but it was mostly casual talk of their plans once they left this planet. Either they intended to win, or they were going to leave before it had a chance to kill them. Of course they're going to run, cowards.

They had dressed and cleaned quickly, most of the z senshi and their unwelcome guests meeting in the conference room. Mr Popo had served up a spread of food for breakfast and it wasn't long before the Saiyans had started eating. Zak and his three companions had joined them, though they ate with normal vigour. The female, who was pouring herself a cup of coffee, turned to Goku and asked him a question.

"What is the plan for today?"

The Saiyan paused mid mouthful, surprised at her initiation of the conversation. He swallowed clumsily and answered her.

"We're going to fight in groups. Four of us, against the four of you"

She raised a thin eye brow and continued.

"You think you will beat us" It was a statement, although the mocking question was underlying in it.

Actually, I hope you do. It made him feel ill to think those words. Her low tones reached his ears once again, though this time her question wasn't directed at him.

"Aren't you going to join us Piccolo?"

Gohan, who was sat opposite his father, turned round to look at his mentor, who was standing with his arms crossed, leaning against the stone wall a few feet away. The Namek opened his eyes and stared at the female mercenary.

"No"

She smiled and Gohan spoke.

"What's your name?"

She sipped her drink, enjoying the attention. Her male counterparts were good companions but they were poor company. Zak and Siba were seated at either side, the other mercenary was seated at the end.

"Toya" She pointed to the blonde "this is Siba, and he" She motioned to the end of the table "is Jan"

The strong male, who was eating and ignoring them glanced up at the sound of his name. Only to continue to ignore them once again.

Krillin, Eighteen, Vegeta, Bulma, Yamucha Chi chi and Videl had stopped eating to listen to the conversation. Goten and Trunks continued to plough their food.

"Well, nice to formally meet you" Gohan's lie was flawless and he punctuated it with a small smile.

Zak stood, his sand coloured shirt rolled up to his elbows, revealing a tan marred with scars. Everyone had started talking and slowly, the light hum of conversation filled the room. Mr Popo returned with more food and Dende took a seat to pour himself some tea.

The mercenary walked to Piccolo and leaned against the wall next to him. The Namek had been raking over the memory of the previous night, trying to identify just what had attacked him. He tried to ignore the other man but spice and power filled his senses and like the day before, a distant memory tried to surface. The other man crossed his arms and spoke quietly but confidently.

"Your friends are unrealistic, do you not think?"

Piccolo opened his eyes but didn't turn to the other man. Yes, completely and utterly out of their minds mad to trust you

"What makes you think that?"

"Well, we have no intention of dying so this planet can be spared and I know that you know that"

The Namek turned, though he had to stop himself from bristling at Zak's proximity.

"Then why are you still here?"

Zak leaned in, making Piccolo lean back a couple of inches. Goku kept an eye on the both of them though to the rest of the group, the moment went unnoticed.

"I can't decide if you know, or if you really are as ignorant as you're making out"

Piccolo knitted his brows, uncrossing his arms. He had forgone the cape and turban and was now regretting it.

"I don't know what you're trying to insinuate"

Azaka laughed under his breath and brushed his hand against the Namek's, making the jade warrior flinch in reaction.

"I can't wait to fight you boy" With that, he moved away, casting a knowing glance at Daimao, who was stood against the wall at the other side of the room.

The dark Namek narrowed his eyes at the scene in front of him, the mercenary was all but crawling over his son and amidst the bustle of conversation, he couldn't hear their words. He returned to his musings. The entity would be there in two or three days and he had only a handful of hours to implement his plan. Unbeknownst to him, Zak was thinking the exact same thing.

Gohan peered up at Daimao and watched as the cogs turned under his now smooth emerald skin. An ancient mind thinking through old tricks. He felt like they were being attacked from all angles and he slammed his fork down onto the table. He stood and walked out of the room, eager to get on. The rest of the senshi slowly followed suit, finishing their breakfast quickly.

On the lookout, Piccolo was one of the last to join them, walking with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. Goku, Vegeta, Goten and Trunks stood ready to fight the mercenaries. Dismissing their weapons reluctantly, they faced one another up to battle. Piccolo was staring down the middle of the lined up parties, the far reach of the sky as a backdrop to the white tiled surface. It was bright now and probably around eight o'clock. As Gohan spoke, laying out the rules of the spar, Piccolo noticed something on just the other side of the fighters. Down the centre, stood just a few feet away from Goku and Zak, stood a man he didn't recognise. He could see the sparkle of light reflecting against the man's iris', the dirt that lay thick in the man's light hair. The dried blood as it lay like a layer of film over the man's soft tissue, where the skin had worn away. His heartbeat suddenly rammed in his chest.

Piccolo glanced around, desperate for someone to see him, frantically looking for recognition. No one flickered an eyelid, all were glued to the fight before them as they prepared. His breath quickened at the prospect of it being a delusion and he uncrossed his arms in exasperation and no small amount of concern. He looked back at the figure, who had shuffled forward. His eyes were glinting in an unearthly sort of pleasure and Piccolo swallowed, his throat scraping.

Gohan had stopped talking and in his periphery he noted his mentor's strange behaviour. He allowed his father to continue and looked pointedly at Piccolo. The look in the Namek's eyes was too similar to what he had seen the night before and he glanced towards the spot that fixated Piccolo so. The expanse of the lookout was clear, empty except those accounted for.

Piccolo's eyes met Gohan's and in just a moment, the Namek composed himself. When Piccolo looked back at the lookout, the man was gone.

Daimao watched his son's actions and smirked, the light casting shadows as he moved a high cheekbone. For many years he had been without entertainment and he was taking pleasure in watching the young Namek's psyche take a plunge into disparity.

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