Author's Note:

After receiving several delightful comments and one death threat, here's the new chapter! XD

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ! I seriously wish I did though…

CHAPTER FOUR:

Chi-Chi was pacing in her living room. Gohan had gone off to train with that horrible green monster, Piccolo, and he still hadn't come home! It was five thirty six; Gohan should have been home six minutes ago. Six whole minutes. Gohan was never late. But he was today.

Chi-Chi wrung her hands around a blanket nervously. If that horrible Piccolo has done anything to hurt my little boy, I'll kill him. I'll throw him right down to hell where he belongs, and then Goku can go and kick his butt for daring to harm Mommy's little boy! Chi-Chi ripped the blanket, scowling fiercely.

She had no idea that her son was struggling against the heart disease. She had no clue. Chi-Chi simply hated Piccolo because the monster stole her Gohan when he was four and took him away for a whole year. To a mother, that was the worst kind of betrayal. Her baby boy had started growing up without her; and she couldn't forgive Piccolo for that.

Chi-Chi out a hand over her stomach absently, knowing full well that a baby was in there. She could only hope that her newest child would be a scholar and not a fighter like Gohan. If she kept Gohan studying, then he wouldn't be in danger. As crazy as it sounded, Chi-Chi didn't have the greater good in mind when it came to her baby boy. As far as she was concerned, the universe could blow up as long as her Gohan had no part in the fighting!

Chi-Chi could only hope that he'd return home soon. She sighed softly, sitting down on the couch and putting her face in her hands. Not too much had gone right today. There were still tons of dishes on the counter for Chi-Chi to clean. Both lunch and breakfasts dishes. Her life consisted of dishes, cooking, and Gohan's studying. That was it. Gohan and Goku had already proven, without a doubt, that neither of them could cook to save their lives. As such, the responsibility fell to Chi-Chi.

Chi-Chi took on a more determined stance. She was going to clean this house up. When Gohan arrived home, she would scold him for being late, then she would send him to dinner. As Chi-Chi reached the kitchen, the phone started ringing.

Chi-Chi had decided to get a phone in case something happened and she needed to know about it. She had realized how difficult it was to contact her, so, she bought a phone. It was black, on a cord attached to the wall. She picked up and brought the phone to her ear. The plastic was cool against her skin.

"Hello?" Chi-Chi said. "Son residence here, how may I help you?" she asked pleasantly, blinking in confusion.

"It's Bulma. We need to talk, Chi-Chi." Bulma's voice sounded on the other end of the phone. Bulma sounded worried, and nervous about something. Chi-Chi decided to ask about it later and just carry on.

"Oh, Bulma! Do you know where Gohan is? He's late for dinner!" Chi-Chi scowled slightly, shifting the phone so she could use both hands to wash the dishes.

"Well, about that…" Bulma gulped nervously.

"My goodness! Please tell me he's alright!" Chi-Chi dropped the dish in her hand, it shattering against the tiled floor.

"Oh man… this is difficult…" Bulma muttered. She took a deep breath and spoke quickly. "Gohan got the heart disease. He was attacked by it when he was training with Piccolo, he's with us now and we're trying to cure him. I'm working on a medicine cure, Vegeta's off looking for the Dragon Balls, and Piccolo's with Gohan."

Chi-Chi could barely move. She couldn't even think. She was just… frozen.

"Chi-Chi?" Bulma asked. Soon, a thump was heard and the phone line disconnected.

"Huh." Bulma looked down at the phone in her hands. "Well, Chi-Chi just fainted." Bulma blinked at the phone.

"DAD!" Bulma yelled. She knew that Piccolo would probably yell at her for making such a racket in the house when Gohan was so sick, but she didn't care.

"WHAT?!" her father demanded. Mr. Briefs was busy working on a new project; and he didn't want to be interrupted.

"Go pick up Chi-Chi; she just fainted!" Bulma yelled

"I'm busy! You go do it!"

"Dad, you're working on a project to feed your ego! I am working on something to save Gohan's-"

"Would you two shut up for five bloody minutes? It's enough that Gohan is screaming but I don't need either of you screeching at each other! Go pick up the damn woman or stay where you are, I really don't care! If I have to go down there and SHUT YOU UP, you will not like the consequences!" It was Piccolo, bellowing at the top of his lungs. Both Bulma and her father shut up, Mr. Briefs silently heading to go pick up Chi-Chi.

Piccolo growled in fury, turning his attention back to his sick student. Gohan had crushed his hand so many times that he had lost count. The boy was constantly screaming, clutching at his chest, his world full of pain.

No amount of pain could even compare to how Piccolo was beating himself up inside. He wanted so desperately to help Gohan, yet he was unable to do anything. The small boy was almost completely out of his reach. If there was something, anything Piccolo could have done, he would have already done it.

There was a small bowl of stew on the night-table next to Gohan's bed. A spoon was beside it, and a glass of water completed the meal. Piccolo had seen Gohan make stew once when they were training together. It didn't seem too difficult, so Piccolo had tried it. Just put water in and grow in some meat and vegetables, right?

He hoped he was right. Piccolo didn't have a good sense of what humans liked it eat and what they didn't. As a result, he wasn't sure if he cooked it properly. He wasn't going to try it though. The stupid black cat that Mr. Briefs owned had hissed at him and his stew while he made it.

Cats are cats, not humans. Stupid cat. Piccolo grumbled. He glanced over at Gohan; the small boy had melted the ice pack on his forehead. Piccolo turned the ice pack over so that Gohan could have some coolness on his burning forehead. The boy's fever was at a very high temperature, making the child sweat and twist around in his unconscious state.

Gohan's face and skin was pale, sweat dripping off his face. The boy had seemed to shrink even more than normal over the course of several hours. He was breathing heavily. Piccolo assumed that Gohan's hand would be crushing the bedsheets instead of his hand had Piccolo not allowed Gohan to hold it.

Piccolo's stomach was a knot of fear and worry for his eleven-year-old student. In his head, Piccolo was cursing Goku over and over again for being a bad father. What a legacy to leave to his son. Gohan, ever since he was four, had been used as a weapon against the evils of his world. And while it was necessary, it still wasn't fair.

Piccolo had a part to play in that; he had, after all, been the first person to push Gohan. He was the first to train Gohan as a weapon. But all that came after that… that was on Goku. Allowing his five year old son to go off to a strange planet without him.

Leaving the child alone for all those years.

Instead of rushing to save his son from Frieza, allowed Frieza to reach Earth before him, when he knew that Gohan couldn't handle such a foe.

And the worst of all his crimes; forcing Gohan to fight Cell. Now, a disease that Goku had caught, was now attacking Gohan. Not Goku's direct fault, but the blame still fell on the Earth-raised Saiyan.

No, not just attacking. Piccolo thought. Killing. This disease is killing Gohan. Piccolo could feel Gohan's heart, almost as well as he could feel his own. And Gohan was failing. Even with all his Ascended Super Saiyan power, Gohan couldn't defeat an enemy that came from inside. Inside his heart, to be precise.

Piccolo's face twisted into a violent scowl. I swear, if Gohan dies of this, I am going to rip out both Vegeta's and Goku's throats! Goku for passing this disease on, and Vegeta for failing to gather the Dragon Balls in time. Then, I'll wish Gohan back and leave those two rotting in the Home for Infinite Losers; HFIL. Otherwise known as Hell.

Piccolo sensed out Gohan's thoughts. The boy was focusing solely on fighting the disease, but he was beginning to think that he wasn't able to beat it. Gohan had gotten much weaker through the hours. He fought less. He breathed less. And with every passing minute, his heart beat less.

Piccolo hated this room already. It was white and completely clean. There was no life or any sort of sense of home to it. Just a bed, a sink with some cupboards, a night-table, and a window. It was awful. It had smelled like a hospital when he had come in with Gohan.

"C'mon, kid. You can do this. You're strong, brave, and… and… this disease shouldn't kill you if it didn't kill your father!" Piccolo closed his eyes, unsure of what to say for the moment. He took a deep breath, then continued.

"We need you here in this world, kid. And if we have to use one wish on those stupid Dragon Balls to bring you back, so be it. I don't even care if I have to go down to Otherworld myself and fetch you; it's happening, kid. I may not be the best guy in the world, but you still showed me the light in the darkness." Piccolo grumbled. He wasn't speaking very loudly; unless one of those stupid humans (or Saiyans, for that matter!) were sitting outside the door right now, no one would be able to hear him.

"Oh ho ho!" an assistant of Mr. Briefs was laughing as she watched and listened to the lovely conversation in the infirmary. They had several cameras and microphones set up to catch Piccolo being a softie. They had succeeded. The assistant brought her walkie talkie out and pressed the button.

"Hello, Mr. Briefs, sir? Good news; the cat is in the bag. I repeat, the cat is in the bag." she smirked.

"Bwahahahaha!" Mr. Briefs started laughing. He was almost to Chi-Chi's house, flying the plane. "TV gold, my lady, TV gold." Mr. Briefs chuckled evilly, shaking his head and grinning like a madman.

Vegetable had collected the four star ball, the six star ball, the seven star ball, the three star ball, and the one star ball. Just two more to go; the two star ball, and the five star ball. He had thrown them into the satchel-thing (he refused to call it a purse.) and was now flying across another ocean.

Vegeta was pretty sure that he was in France right now, because everyone was speaking a language unfamiliar to his ears and there was a giant tower which people flocked to. Speaking of which, the Dragon Radar pointed to the tower and said that one of the Dragon Balls was there.

Refusing to waste any more time, Vegeta landed on the tower. As he landed, his stomach gave a large and audible growl. Vegeta checked the time and… uh, used some very colourful language to describe how he was feeling.

"That darn woman! If she wasn't making me chase after these stupid balls, I would be eating my dinner right now." Vegeta grumbled. He growled again, quickly running around the Eiffel Tower, trying to track the location. He bumped into a group of tourists; one of the ladies had a necklace with the Dragon Ball on it.

Vegeta approached the group. The lady turned and smirked at him. Vegeta swallowed nervously; only Bulma had given him that look before. Before she could get too close, Vegeta ran behind her and chopped the back of her neck, effectively knocking her out.

Vegeta breathed a sigh of relief, the rest of the group screaming and running around in stupid circles. Vegeta removed the Dragon Ball from the necklace and allowed some of the disgust that had built up in his stomach to dissipate.

Vegeta looked the orange and red ball over; the two star ball. He flew off of the tower, clicking the radar to see where the next Dragon Ball was located. Scowling at the distance, Vegeta powered up and blasted off, a shockwave rippling off his body and shaking the air around him. Within a few minutes, Vegeta has arrived at his destination; the North Pole.

It was incredibly cold. Vegeta glared at the radar as he shivered. In his head, he was complaining about missing his dinner. Vegeta glanced over at a strange noise, seeing a seal sitting there and clapping at him, making that odd noise again. It dove down into the water. The radar beeped, and Vegeta looked down to peer at it.

The Dragon Ball was on the move, heading closer to him. Vegeta looked in the direction the radar had pointed him to and came face-to-face with a snowy white, gigantic, nearly extinct, polar bear. Vegeta raised an eyebrow; he had never seen a creature like this before.

Before Vegeta could decide that he liked the beast, it roared in his face, showing off his massive, wicked sharp teeth. Vegeta glared at it, deciding that he hated it. The polar bear went to swipe at him with it's massive paws, but Vegeta grabbed the paw, stopping the bear in it's tracks.

It looked on, confused as Vegeta glanced at the radar.

"So, big guy, swallowed the Dragon Ball, did we?" Vegeta smirked, pulling the bear's paw aside. "That's fine by me." Vegeta flicked the bear in the nose, sending his Ki into the polar bear's body, effectively frying the nerves and killing it.

Vegeta used his Ki to create a sharp sword on his hand, slicing the bear's stomach open. He reached in among the guts and gore, and picked the bloody Dragon Ball up. Vegeta washed his arm and the Dragon Ball off in the hole he had seen the seal disappear down, and stood up; putting the ball away. With that, Vegeta blasted off for home.

In five minutes, he was back in Japan, at the front doors of Capsule Corp.

"I have returned with the Dragon Balls." Vegeta said, sounding slightly bored. The house exploded into activity. Bulma raced out of the house, kissed Vegeta on the cheek, then grabbed the Dragon Balls and threw them on the ground. Piccolo came running after her, the frail and weakened Gohan in this arms. He laid Gohan on the ground.

"Summon it, summon it, summon it, summon it!" Piccolo chanted, worry in every bit of his body.

"Arise, dragon! By your name I call your forth; Shenron!" Bulma cried. Soon, the sky turned black, lightning leaving the sky and slamming into the ground below. The Dragon Balls glowed, the yellow light expanding into the massive form of Shenron. The green dragon curled around the sky, constantly moving.

"Why have you summoned me?" The dragon rumbled. "I will grant you two wishes."

"This is it, guys." Bulma smiled at her companions. "We wish for Gohan to lose the heart virus!" Bulma cried, throwing her hands in the air.

The dragon's red eyes glowed. Under the glare, Gohan had a moment of peace. He looked over at his mentor, smiling softly.

"Bye Mr Piccolo… sorry I wasn't strong enough…" Gohan mumbled. He took his last breath, thought his last thought, and his heart beat for the last time. Gohan's spirit slipped off into Otherworld.

"I cannot grant this wish." Shenron rumbled.

~Well, that just happened! Will Gohan be wished back to life? Find out next time, on DBZ: Crossroads!~

DbzReach:

Thanks for reviewing! Yeah, I have no clue either.

ColdRelief:

Thanks for reviewing! And yes, Piccolo really is. They just told Chi-Chi… oh man… XD

daisukigohan:

Thanks for reviewing, and thank you so much for the nice comments! :3

jarretpigsonftw:

Thanks for reviewing! And my, what profanity! XD

Yes, I shall continue this.