CHAPTER TEN – Better Days by Breaking Benjamin

So sorry that this took this long. I got slammed with worked this past week… So sorry… But I believe this is worth the wait. It's 20 Microsoft pages, and the usual chapters are 6 to 8! It's been a great run, everyone.

Please enjoy the final chapter of He Mele No Lilo

Piccolo sighed, suddenly drained. His right arm dropped back to his side as his flight wobbled. The Namek wasn't done yet. With a grunt, he lifted his arm again, and fired a blast at the damaged pod, destroying the object. Not the memory.

"How badly are you hurt?" He asked, descending to the ruined farm. He had to make sure Radtiz was dead. Gohan trembled in his arms. "Hey, Kid?" Piccolo's feet touched the charred earth with a muffled crunch. Gohan said nothing, merely burying his face further into the Namekian's chest. Supporting the boy with both arms, Piccolo walked slowly towards what he hoped was Raditz's corpse. A dead human lay sprawled, fifty yards away from the prone Saiyan. Another victim of wanton violence. Ignoring it, and the frightened dogs creeping around the edges of the property, he continued toward Raditz.

Crimson blood pooled around the Saiyan; out of his mouth, nose, ears, and the remnants of his chest. Gohan took the opportunity to peek, and was nearly sick.

"Y-you k-k-killed him," he whispered, eyes bulging out of his head. "He, he's dead. Dead." The boy's painful quivers erupted into bone-rattling tremors. "You killed him," Gohan whimpered, staring up at Piccolo. Water sat in his big dark eyes, threatening to spill over once again.

"Yeah," Piccolo replied softly, nudging the corpse with his foot. "He's dead. And I killed him." And he deserved it, he added silently, glaring at the bloodshot eyes of his dead enemy. I don't regret doing it.

"C-can you take me back to my Mama?" Gohan burbled, voice thick with the seemingly endless onslaught of tears.

Piccolo looked down at the boy, his face softening. Without a word, he nodded, taking off gently and flying slowly.

"I think my ribs are broken," Gohan's voice was barely audible, even to Piccolo's keen ears. The boy's face was as white as a skeleton left to bleach in the desert sun, except where blood or bruises colored his skin. "He kicked me. Really hard."

"What happened Vegeta?"

The Prince scowled, scanning the information bleeping across the high-tech computer screen, "It looks like a pod error. That idiot Raditz probably forgot to disengage some safety mechanism before the launch. The whole thing blew itself to bits." He scowled, thick dark brows furrowing over cruel eyes, his angular face made more brutal by the contrast between the dark room and the illumination from the monitor. "Pity, we're down a man."

The bald Saiyan behind Vegeta crossed his overly muscled arms, biceps and triceps reflecting off the glowing screens. "Should we go check it out, Vegeta?"

"No," Vegeta snapped, "That ass wasted enough of our money as it is, Nappa. Have you any idea how much debt we'll be in if the two of us go all of the way out there for nothing?" He ran a hand through gravity-defying spiked hair. "Kakarot's dead, Radtiz is dead, and he had the Kakabrat with him when the pod exploded. They're all dead."

"Pity," Nappa muttered, "I enjoyed having someone to kick around."

"Hmph," Vegeta stood, sweeping past Nappa with the grace of well-bred noble; imperious and disdainful. "He was practically useless anyway…"

She paced, heart thudding painfully in her chest. What if the alien – Piccolo – couldn't save Gohan? What would happen to her baby? Dark eyes watched the sky frantically for some sign of their return. Please, oh please… A groan from behind her caused Chichi to squeak in fear, whirling around. Her frying pan held out in front of her like a sword, she stared at Popo. The round little genie was finally waking up.

"My Goodness, Miss," he moaned, sitting up and adjusting his turban. "That was quite the hit." He looked sadly at her, "But I must ask why you did it. Ma Junior is evil. How could you unleash such an abomination?"

Lowering the frying pan slowly, Chichi looked Popo in the eyes. "He offered to save my son," she replied evenly; "He was my only option. I don't care who he is, or what he's done. I don't even care if he's wanted for murder –"

"– Mass murder –" Popo interjected; Chichi ignored him, raising her voice both in volume and in pitch.

"– Pickle-what's-his-face is going to bring my son back and THAT IS ALL I CARE ABOUT!" Popo shrank away from her, already large eyes bugging out of his head. Chichi's usually immaculate bun had fallen loose, ebony tresses dangling around her face. She looked like a madwoman. "Now leave me the Hell alone! I have enough to deal with." Chichi stared down Popo, a reckless courage burning in her eyes. The genie relented.

"I shall not bother you," he murmured, "but I am going to stay here, and wait for Ma Junior to return." Popo stood resolutely, hands crossed behind his back, staring off in the direction Chichi had turned, eyes skyward.

Landing in 10…9…8…

Kami gritted his age-yellowed fangs, gripping the arm rest of his chair tightly, left hand claws grating on the metal. Landing was the worst part of intergalactic travel.

…7…6….5…

The elderly Namekian kept his eyes peeled wide open; partly because it lessened some of the nausea, but mostly because he was struck by the beauty of the planet Ma Junior had been unleashed upon. Swirling streams of white on vibrant blues, dotted with greens and browns… "Such an exquisite place," he murmured as the ship lowered itself over purpley-blue mountains, and lush forests, "for such a black soul to roam…"

…3…2…1…

It always amazed him how smoothly these oddly shaped ships could be landed. Moori had set them down without much jostling, although the planet's winds had created some turbulence. Kami unbuckled his seatbelt, standing before the others. He debated telling them about Nail, worried that the crew might become emotionally compromised, thus in greater danger of being killed. I must, he thought, I cannot lie.

"You all know why we are here," he announced, clearing his throat. "Ma Junior escaped while we journeyed to exile him. I sent Nail and my dear friend, Mister Popo, after him." Kami paused, clearing a lump in his throat. "I sensed earlier, through my bond with Junior, intense euphoria. It is, it is my belief that he somehow captured Nail, and…" it was difficult to continue, "And absorbed him."

Gasps of horror and shock echoed throughout the cabin, punctuated by a high-pitched wail of "NO!" Kami and the other Namekians started, silenced by the child's voice. Where had it come from? No children had been brought along on such a dangerous mission!

Moori was the first to find the source of the voice.

"Dende…?" The portly old Namek rumbled, pulling the child from his hiding place. The old man's eyes were narrowed not in anger, but sadness. Dende and Nail had been particularly close, even among Namekians, where tight family bonds were common. "Dende, what in the name of Namek are you doing here?"

The boy struggled against Moori, fighting to get free. "No! Nail can't be dead, he can't!"

"Dende," Moori repeated, still holding the child's arm, "What are you doing here, Dende?"

"N-Nail!" Impossibly large tears brimmed in the tiny Namekian's wide eyes, "I came to help Nail but I got in the wrong c-cruiser!" he sobbed brokenly, "I wanted to h-help Nail if he g-got hurt!" Dende slumped against Moori's belly, hiding his face in the man's vest. "N-Nail!"

Kami walked slowly over to the sobbing child, kneeling down to his level.

"Child," he murmured, touching soft, smooth green skin with a wizened hand, "I am so sorry you had to find out this way," Dende sniffled, turning his head to look at Kami. "I wish I could ease your pain, but I fear nothing can do that."

"C-can Nail be br-brought back?" the little sprout whimpered, "back home?"

Kami's face scrunched in a sad smile.

"No, Little One, I am afraid not."

Dende began to cry again in earnest, and Kami turned to Moori. "Take him to the infirmary; at least there are beds for the lad."

Moori nodded, scooping the bawling child into his arms, mumbling words of comfort as he rushed the boy away from the meeting.

The room remained silent for several long, painful moments, until Moori returned. His eyes were damp, but he was calm.

"I apologize, Kami," he said, bowing curtly, "I assure you that I shall check for stowaways more thoroughly next time."

"Not at all Moori, not at all…" Kami shook his head, "Now, there shall be time to mourn Nail later…" He began again, explaining the need to capture Ma Junior, but going on to say that deadly forced could be used if no other choice remained.

Down the hall, fifteenth door on the left, Dende sat, staring out one of the dome shaped windows. Tears still trickled down his emerald cheeks, but his breathing had evened out. Sharp ears could hear all that was being said. No, Nail cannot be dead! He gritted his tiny, sharp fangs. I will find you, Nail! Dende vowed as he crept out of the infirmary, further down the hall, around a bend, and out through the escape pod chambers.

Gohan's condition was deteriorating. His breaths, strained as they were before, came as a shallow, wet gurgles. Piccolo feared that at least one of his lungs was damaged. The blood wasn't clotting, and the boy's sickly pallor had taken on a bluish hue. The Namekian held him as close as possible, even tucking him inside the tattered remnants of his shirt for extra warmth.

He's not going to make it, that sibilant hiss was back. This time, instead of walling it off, Piccolo snatched it, wringing its negative energy out it, destroying it utterly. Yes. He is. Its dying hiss rejuvenated him. Piccolo clenched his jaw, putting on a burst of speed. He had no idea what to do with injuries. He only hoped the boy's mother would be able to get him help in time.

Chichi began pacing again, smacking the frying pan against her thigh. She turned, nearly bumping into Popo.

"Ugh! Stay out of my way!" She snarled, waving her weapon threateningly.

"I do not meant to be rude, Miss, but your path of movement is quite erratic. I have not moved."

She opened her mouth to protest, but couldn't find a reasonable argument.

Popo stiffened, suddenly staring due south.

"Ma Junior approaches," he said, trancelike.

"Wha -?" Chichi followed the genie's gaze, not seeing anything for a long time. Her eyes widened as a bright beam of light shot down towards them. The light slowly turned into a shape, a person. It was Piccolo! He had Gohan clutched tightly in his arms!

"Gohan!" Chichi cried, rushing forward to the seven foot tall alien as he landed. "Oh, My Baby! Gohan!"

The boy stirred in Piccolo's arms, bluish eyelids fluttering. "Mamma?" Gohan wiggled, "Piccolo is that my mamma? Mamma!"

Piccolo looked reluctantly at the little bundle in his arms. He was afraid of relinquishing that warmth. Carefully, he handed the boy to his mother, who pulled him close to her chest. "Gohan!" Tears cascaded down their faces from identical dark eyes. "Oh, Baby, you're hurt!" She looked desperately up at Piccolo. "What happened?"

"He needs help. He needs a healer," The Namekian was breathing hard from their flight.

"Mamma, I can't breathe," Gohan wheezed, "My ribs, I think they're broken, Mamma." The sickly pallor had returned to his face, "Mamma," he sounded so scared.

Popo moved to their sides, he was in shock, partially because Piccolo had returned – and with the boy – and his lack of hostility; is that, dear Kami, care in the demon's eyes? He was different from before. "Oh, the poor child!" Popo exclaimed as his eyes landed on the bedraggled five-year old. "Let me see, please!" Chichi hesitantly allowed the genie to take her son. She gasped as Popo pulled the boy's shirt up to the side, revealing swollen purple, blue and red skin that was broken and bloody in several places. "I believe this lung is damaged. Possibly punctured. He needs medicine. Now."

"The nearest hospital is almost three hours away!" Chichi cried, desperately hugging Gohan as Popo gave him back to her. "Please, I can't lose him!"

"Dende…" Piccolo whispered, "Dende's a healer," There was a faraway look in the Namekian's eyes, "he is here…"

"What?" Popo looked sharply at Piccolo, "Nail's Dende? But that's imposs –" The words died on his lips as Piccolo took off with a whoosh of air. "-ible." The genie frowned; the emotional trauma caused by forced absorption usually destroyed the memories of the one taken, leaving only their power behind. For Ma Junior to know about Dende… He shook his head. That was impossible. Nail would never have agreed to fuse with the killer of his comrades. Unless… His thoughts were interrupted by a high pitched squeal of fright.

Dende kicked, punched, clawed and bit at his abductor. He couldn't believe that he had let himself be captured, by his friend's supposed killer, none the less! Caught, and helpless, without the other Namekians around to save him!

"Put me down!" he shrieked, terror making his little heart beat fit to burst. He disregarded the tiny fact that they were almost fifty feet above the towering tree line. "What do you want with me?"

"Your talents as a healer," the gruff voiced Ma Junior replied in tone strangely void of malice. That, however, did nothing to quell Dende's fears.

"What did you do with Nail?!" He tried to turn, but couldn't; Junior's grip on him was too strong. It did strike him as odd that the demon hadn't killed him, nor did he seem interested in absorbing him; that could have happened exactly where the child had been captured, miles away from assistance, in the middle of a forest. It was also odd that the so-called "King of Demons" was holding him close to his chest, albeit facing down at the dizzying landscape below, rather than cruelly snatching him up by the arm, ear, leg, or even – he shuddered – antennae as the stories said he would.

"We fused," was the soft reply.

Dende's heart broke.

"You absorbed him?"

"No," Ma Junior returned, diving down to a small clearing in the thick forest. "He offered. I accepted."

Dende was about to argue when Ma Junior quite literally dropped out of the sky, eliciting a screech of fear from the child's mouth. He was soon set on his feet, facing the oddest looking creatures the young Namekian had ever seen. And Mister Popo. The two aliens were soft looking, with strange, silky growths on their heads. Millions of antennae? Dende wondered, mouth falling open slightly. The smaller one, clutched in the arms of the larger, thinner one, was obviously hurt.

"M-M-Mister P-Popo?" Dende whispered, panicked brain leaping to the conclusion that the genie had betrayed them. It can't be!

The genie stared at him in evident shock.

"P-Piccolo?" A strained whisper tickled the young healer's ears. It was coming from the small, wounded alien. "Piccolo, Mamma, it hurts."

Piccolo? Dende's mind was reeling, who is Piccolo? King Piccolo is dead, taken out years ago by Nail! Could the alien-child be referring to Ma Junior, the son of King Piccolo? Piccolo…Junior?

"Heal him," Junior's quiet voice was rough, but held a certain paradoxical softness to it, just like Nail's… "Please, Dende."

"Why?" The child shot back, whipping his head up to look Piccolo Junior in the eye. "You're evil, and if you want him to live, he's evil too!"

"Dende," it was Popo, "there is no evil in this child, feel his soul! Have you ever felt such a pure spirit?"

It was true. There was not a trace of evil in the boy. A few shadowy corners, but those places felt sorrowful, not angry, confused, not violent. Dende bit his lip.

"B-but…?"

"Please, Sprout?" Nail's nickname for him! Dende's eyes watered as the would-be demon knelt beside him, a certain desperation in his eyes. His black eyes. "Nail offered to fuse with me so that I could save him. Don't let his sacrifice be in vain."

"Please," it was the other alien, the strangest of them all. It had large dark eyes, a slender form with curves in odd places, and childlike-adult voice. "Please, he's my only son. If you can save him…" Tears rolled down its cheeks, dripping onto the alien child in its arms.

A weak, gurgling cough sealed it. Dende nodded.

"I'll do it," he whispered, "on the condition that Junior turns himself in."

"Deal," Piccolo vowed, coaxing Gohan from Chichi's arms, laying him flat on the ground. The boy's head rested on his mother's lap, her hands smoothing his hair and wiping sweat from his face. Piccolo moved to the side, giving Dende room to work.

Chichi watched as the tiny Piccolo-lookalike laid his glowing hands on her battered little Gohan. She was mesmerized as the child - Dende's - face ran through a gamut of emotion; shock, pity, horror, and finally, peace, as he discovered and healed the injuries. Gohan's breathing steadily relaxed, and the pinched, pained expression on his face smoothed. The bruises cleared away, the horrible swelling on his ribs disappeared, and the color returned to his skin. Slowly, his eyes opened, looking straight up into Chichi's face.

"Mamma I had a bad dr –" Gohan's eyes bugged out of his head as he saw the crowd around him. "Oh," he whispered, blinking owlishly at everyone. "I-it wasn't a dream, huh?"

"No, Sweetie," Chichi whispered, smiling softly. Tears of relief shimmered in her eyes.

"Hey, Kid," Piccolo said quietly, reaching a clawed hand out to ruffle the boy's hair. "Good to have you back."

Gohan beamed, reaching his little hands up to grab Piccolo's fingers. His tail wiggled in delight at the open affection. Piccolo offered a small smile, rocking Gohan's head back and forth gently. Chichi's eyes lit up as Gohan hurled himself at the Namekian, throwing his arms as far around Piccolo's chest as they would go.

Popo and Dende's mouths dropped open as Piccolo awkwardly returned the child's hug, placing his hands on thin shoulders.

"I…" Popo gawked at the sight, "I d-don't believe it…"

"Huh?" Gohan let go of Piccolo, taking in everyone else. "Who are you guys?"

"My name is Mister Popo, and this is Dende," Popo made a sweeping motion with his hands; "I am very pleased to see that Dende was able to heal your injuries."

Dende blushed, looking down at his feet. "It was nothing," he mumbled, scuffing his toes in the dirt. "Glad you're okay." Very suddenly, he felt guilty.

"Thank you," Gohan offered the little Namekian his hand, oblivious to the alien's inner dilemma. Dende took it timidly. "Are you friends with Piccolo too?"

Dende's eyes widened, and he shook his head frantically. "N-no! I most certainly am not friends with him!"

"Oh," Gohan blinked, turning his head to look at Piccolo, standing behind his mother. "Why not?"

Dende shook his head in disbelief; how did this boy not know about Ma Junior's evil? Doubt gnawed at the boy's gut at that thought. Junior seemed different – more than what he should, even after fusion or absorption. He didn't understand.

"Dende's gone," Moori said quietly, "It would seem that he snuck out of one of the pod exits."

Kami closed his eyes, frowning grimly. The child would be easy prey for Junior. His defenses would be lowered, as distraught as he was. Dende stood no chance if Junior found him.

Ma Junior; his greatest folly. The son of his greatest enemy, his quite literal evil-twin, the Demon King Piccolo. It is a pity, he thought regretfully, that the boy could not be turned from the path of evil. It is my own fault; I should have intervened upon discovering his existence. He sighed."Then we'd best begin our search now. The sooner we find Ma Junior, the sooner Dende and the inhabitants of this poor planet are safe."

"Yes Sir. I shall gather a team of volunteers."

Kami nodded, brows furrowing. He would attempt to contact Mister Popo. He only hoped that there was still a Mister Popo to reach.

/Mister Popo, come in, Mister Popo./ He waited, and waited. Sweat beaded on his brow. /Are there, Mister Popo?/

/Kami? You're here too?/ Surprise filtered across the mental link, /My, I must have been unconscious when you entered the atmosphere or I would –/

/Are you hurt?/ Kami interrupted, concern flowing through his being. /Was it Junior?/

/What? Oh no, I am not injured! Junior is here, yes but – /

/You're with him? Where are you?/ Standing up quickly, the Namekian elder hurriedly returned to the cabin of the ship. He sensed reluctance in the genie's mind, but very soon an image of a clearing, fifteen miles from their current location. /We'll be there in minutes. Keep him distracted and alert me at once if anything changes!/He cut the connection as he began calling out orders.

Piccolo sensed the approaching Namekian army. He sighed, closing his eyes for a long moment.

"Gohan," the boy whipped his head around to look at him.

"Yes?"

It hurt. It hurt to look at those bright, innocent eyes and make up an excuse to get rid of the boy. "I think you should go home," he said quietly. "You need to rest."

"B-but I feel fine." Gohan replied, frowning, "and I told you, the house got wrecked while you were fighting Raditz."

Piccolo looked imploringly at Chichi, please, take him home. Her brow furrowed, but she said nothing. "Maybe Piccolo's right, Sweetheart," she coaxed Gohan away from the three aliens. Dende kept his eyes downcast, a guilty flush discoloring his cheeks.

"I'll do it, on the condition that Junior turns himself in."

"Deal."

Whatever was going to happen to the Namekian, he didn't want Gohan to see it.

"O-okay…" Gohan looked hopefully at Piccolo, "I'll, I'll see you later, right? You can come back to my house, and help us fix it?"

Piccolo didn't return the gaze, keeping his eyes closed. He nodded slowly, "I'll… I'll think about it, Kid."

Gohan heard it. He heard the lie. "Piccolo…?"

"Go home, Gohan."

Chichi scooped the boy into her arms, even as he tried to latch back on to Piccolo's pant leg. Piccolo's hands clenched and unclenched, fingers twitching with each movement. His entire body was rigid, refusing to look at Gohan. "Piccolo, wha –"

A dull whirring noise hit their ears.

Piccolo's eyes opened slowly, an unidentifiable emotion on his face. It was better like this… In a way. The boy would know. He wouldn't feel abandoned. Heartbroken. But not abandoned.

"Gohan," he looked the boy in the eye. "I'm sorry," the others arrived.

Piccolo opened his mouth to say more, but didn't have the chance as seven Namekian warriors dropped from above, surrounding the small group, seven balls of glowing ki trained on the demon.

"Stand down," a rasping voice growled from behind the ring of fire. "Ma Junior." Several of the warriors turned their heads ever so slightly, tension and nervousness tightly woven on their faces. Chichi pulled Gohan closer to her, fear growing in her demeanor. Gohan shrunk back into her arms as the walls of warriors parted.

"Kami," Piccolo spat, spasms wracking the muscles in his jaw and neck.

A very tall, very wrinkled, very old man moved slowly into the center of the warriors. His thin, cracked lips were drawn into a tight frown, accentuating his high, gaunt cheekbones and severe eyes. He carried a staff in his hand, which, along with his flowing robes, made him appear regal, even godlike. Gohan couldn't help but notice that the green man bore a resemblance to the monster in the nightmare he and Piccolo had shared. Only, this man didn't feel evil. He just felt…sad, tired. Gohan frowned, pushing against his mother's arms.

Kami lowered his staff into the ground, striking it against a rock. The sound rippled through the ears of everyone present like a drumbeat. His eyes locked onto the demon's face. An expression he had never seen on his young counterpart caught his attention, but he was unable to identify the emotion.

"Well, get on with it," the demon bit out through tightly clenched teeth, his eyes narrowed to slits.

Kami said nothing, nodding to his warriors. Two of them leapt forward, grabbing Junior roughly by the arms. The Namek did nothing more than raise his lip at them. Even that small action caused them to momentarily shrink from him in fear. A small cry interrupted Kami's thoughts, "What are you doing?"

For the first time, he looked at the aliens. Popo and Dende stood uncomfortably away from the action. But it wasn't either of them whom had spoken. It was tiny child, with messy black hair and bright, innocent eyes. It was held in the arms of another alien, softer looking and, Kami noted with mild interest, female. He recognized the aliens as humans, the native inhabitants of the planet. It occurred to him that he did not need to answer the boy, but something in the young human's eyes compelled him to speak.

"This man is an escaped criminal, we're taking him back."

"Back where?"

"Gohan," the female hissed, trying to grab the boy again as he struggled free. She missed. Kami raised his eyebrows as a long simian tail unfurled itself from under the child.

"Excuse me," Gohan said rather boldly, marching right up to Kami. He barely reached the Namekian's knee, and had to crane his neck back to look up at the man, "I asked you where you're taking Piccolo."

His eyebrows shot even farther up Kami's forehead. The boy had called Junior "Piccolo." Casting a glance at the captive, Kami slowly replied to the child, not sure how to respond. The other Namekians seemed likewise shocked by the boy's audacity.

"I…do not believe it is any of your business where Ma Junior goes." He watched the boy's face for a moment, noticing annoyance flash through his bright eyes.

"Well," Gohan crossed his arms, tail swishing agitatedly. "He's my friend, so I think it is my business."

Several whispers and gasps of confusion were audible from the Namekian warriors.

"Friend? Did he say friend?"

"What kind of child makes friends with a monster like Junior?"

"He must have bewitched the boy!"

"Perhaps the child is evil too!"

"Wait, is that a Saiyan tail?"

Kami raised a hand for silence. The murmurs took only a moment to quiet, but nervous shuffling continued after the voices died.

"Gohan," it was Piccolo, "I'll be fine. Just go home."

"No! Not 'till he tells me what's gonna happen to you!" Gohan cried, turning to Piccolo.

Kami twitched.

"I think you'd rather not know," the boy's head whipped back around to look at the ancient Namekian.

"Y-you're gonna kill him?" Tears started to well up in the boy's eyes, "you are, aren't you?!" He shouted, cheeks flushing scarlet.

Kami narrowed his eyes, "No, I'm not going to kill him. Our lives are connected; if he dies, so do I, and vise versa." He growled at the child, "I was prepared to die to rid this planet of his evil – if it came to that extreme."

"He's not evil!" Gohan protested, waving his arms wildly about, "He's just grumpy!"

"He's killed dozens of our people!" One warrior called out angrily. "He killed my best friend not even a month ago!" Several others chorused the man's statement. All the while, Piccolo stood silently, two guards still holding him tightly. At least the first warrior was only mildly exaggerating. He had probably killed fifteen warriors on planet Namek, as well as the three guards on the transport ship. Piccolo had never had many qualms about killing, but unlike his father, Junior had never set about trying to conquer the tiny planet. He had been more interested in gaining power, in fighting, in proving himself, than in world domination. Those that had fallen at his hands had been the ones whom had dared to challenge him.

Gohan's face scrunched in disbelief; he looked up at Piccolo, who nodded slowly.

"Eighteen," he answered quietly, "nineteen, including Raditz. Twenty…if Nail's sacrifice counts."

"Sacrifice?" Kami scoffed; rage discoloring his wrinkled green face, "You absorbed him! In what twisted way is that a sacrifice?"

"He offered," Piccolo growled, visibly tensing. His antennae stood on end.

Kami's teeth ground audibly, and he brandished his staff at his young counterpart.

"How dare you sully his memory with your lies –"

"I'm not lying," he snarled, muscles tensing. The Namekian warriors holding his arms bared their fangs and tightened their grips.

"I have heard enough," Kami slammed his staff into the ground, "It's time to face your fate." Piccolo's face paled, and Kami continued, "You know the consequences of your actions. You attempted escape your original punishment of banishment." Sweat began to bead on Piccolo's forehead. "You shall be sealed for the rest of your natural life." Kami turned imperiously on his heel. "Take him to the ship."

The warriors roughly jerked Piccolo forward; his legs were shaking too badly to fight back had he wanted to.

"WAIT!" Gohan yelled, his voicing making everyone freeze once again. He lunged forward, latching onto Kami's robe, "what does that mean, 'sealed'?"

Piccolo felt an involuntary shudder pass through his body.

Kami was losing patience with the child.

"It means that he shall live the rest of his days in the container of my choosing."

"Will it be dark?"

"Y-yes."

Gohan lost it, tears overflowing his eyelids. "But Piccolo hates the dark! He's scared of it and likes daytime! You can't lock him up somewhere dark forever! That's cruel!"The boy let go of Kami's robe with a vicious tug, flinging himself instead at Piccolo, ignoring the two startled guards. "It's not f-fair!"He sobbed, burrowing his face in the soft purple fabric just below the Namekian's knee. Piccolo, regaining some semblance of control, shook the two warriors off with a look and snarl, kneeling down to Gohan's level and placing his still shaky hands on the boy's shoulders. "It's n-n-not fair! Y-you ha-hate the dark! You're scared of it! And you like to be outside!" Gohan slumped against his hands, tears cascading down his face, little body convulsing from the force of his tears.

Kami watched the scene in shock, eyes practically bugging out of his skull.

"I-Impossible…"

"Stop crying, Kid," Piccolo whispered, "stop crying, it's not – it's not going to change anything."

Gohan looked up, and Piccolo felt his heart crack; the boy's lower lip quivered, eyes wide and watery, face pink and flushed.

"I can't," Gohan gasped between sobs, "I can't. I can't."

"What - is going - on - here?!" Everyone in the clearing turned to see the source of the noise. Standing on a tree root, a very short, very irked looking woman panted. Chichi grimaced, remembering the circumstances that had lead to Gohan running off earlier. Baba still wanted to take the boy. At the sight of the diminutive social worker, Gohan's tears intensified.

"M-Miss Baba?" Kami stammered, sweat beading in his brow, "I apologize for landing my ship without proper clearance; it was an emer-"

"Wait," Chichi stared at the odd duo, "You know each other?"

Baba's eyes roved around the clearing, taking in the scene. She nodded ruefully.

"Yes, I work for the government in more than one department. I'm not supposed to tell anyone about my more unusual job, but since Kami here decided to blow my cover I suppose there's no harm in admitting it," she glared icily at the tall Namekian elder, who flushed. "I know the Green Giants over here from various intergalactic communications. They've alerted us to several potential invasions and aided us in diverting these aggressors." Baba sighed, grumbling, "I was attempting to remove myself from that aspect of work..."

The Namekians shuffled uncomfortably. "Well," Kami began in a strained voice, "We were just leaving. I apologize for interfering in human affairs..."

Chichi was startled out of her thoughts as Piccolo growled loudly. The two Namekian guards withdrew their hands from Gohan as if threatened by a deadly snake. They looked to Kami for guidance, but the elderly man seemed baffled, and merely shook his head. Baba raised her eyebrow, "I do believe I asked what was going on, Kami. That boy your man is holding is under my care."

Chichi bristled visibly, but Popo placed a hand on her shoulder, sensing her violent intentions.

Kami glared at Baba.

"He is not 'my man,'" he snapped, "Ma Junior -"

"Piccolo, my name is Piccolo."

"Very well, Piccolo," Kami snapped, glaring at his counterpart. Piccolo nodded, still crouching with Gohan in his arms. The boy had wrapped his arms around the Namekian's neck, and his tears had quieted to hiccupping sniffles. The scene was unnerving. "As...as I was saying, P-Piccolo here is an escaped criminal. We were taking him to an abandoned planet for exile after he slaughtered his own kind. He is a menace...a...demon..." Kami trailed off, eyes drawn to the scene in front of him.

"He doesn't look like a demon to me," Chichi murmured, eyes moist. "He doesn't act like one either. No demon holds a child like that."

"I..." The warriors looked at Kami, at Piccolo, at Baba, and back to Kami.

"Sir...?" The tallest of them asked, tentative.

Kami closed his eyes, face grim. Ma - Piccolo - couldn't be trusted. He was a menace. A demon. The Spawn of Evil. The King of Hell.

Words drifted to the forefront of his memories, words uttered by the man in front of him.

"I am not my father. I am better than that fool ever was."

Of course, the demon had spat that at him upon his capture, swearing that Kami could never contain him. He had not meant that he was... Morally better than King Piccolo had been. Junior had reveled in his power, and fed off the fear of the Nameks…just like his father before him. But that didn't seem to match now. The way he held the boy... Kami shook his head, clenching his jaw. No... He must have another reason for this behavior. The boy has great power dwelling in him, he must want it... The words sounded hollow, even inside of his head. Kami opened his mouth to speak, the conflict evident on his face. Gohan waited with baited breath, "Bring him to the ship."

Gohan's heart dropped, falling right through his stomach and smashing all over the forest floor.

"Easy Kid," Piccolo whispered, feeling the boy beginning to tremble all over again. He was starting to shake again. "Easy, you'll be fine."

"No I won't..." Gohan shook his head, bangs falling in front of his eyes. "No I won't... I can't... I can't lose you too!" Piccolo pulled the boy closer to his chest in a tight embrace, resting his chin in Gohan's messy black hair.

"I'm so sorry, Kid." I should never have let you get close to me.

"Do you really have to go?" his voice muffled in Piccolo's shirt.

"Yeah," Piccolo nodded slowly. "I…I do."

"But," Gohan pulled away, staring up at him with glistening eyes, "but I don't want you to go!" Piccolo stood, hugging the child as tightly as he could without hurting him. He wished the others weren't around to see it, but he wasn't going to rob the boy of anything on the account of his pride. With one last squeeze, Piccolo handed Gohan to Chichi. He had to pry the boy's fingers from his shirt. Some of the fabric tore off in Gohan's hands. Chichi took Gohan in her arms, giving Piccolo a look full of sorrow.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, wiping tears from her son's eyes. He shrugged with forced nonchalance. There was nothing she could do.

"It's…It's time to go, Piccolo," Kami said, his voice strained and full of an unidentifiable emotion. Piccolo felt the shakes returning in full force. He didn't want to be sealed in some horrible small, dark place for another…two, three hundred years? How old was Kami? Never in his life had he wanted to run so badly. Piccolo's breath hitched as the taller Namekians grabbed hold of his arms again.

Gohan sniffled loudly. Chichi rubbed his back, whispering quietly to him.

"Son Chichi," Baba hissed, gesturing to the departing Namekians. "What is going on here? How does Gohan know a Namekian, and an escaped convict at that?"

Chichi closed her eyes; she didn't want to deal with this right now.

"He found him," she said, "I don't know."

Dende ran to catch up with the Namekians, unable to look Gohan in the eye. Popo gave the little family a long, sad look before following behind the group by a short distance.

"Well," Baba began to say something else, but Gohan suddenly jerked bolt upright, thrashing free of his mother in seconds.

"Gohan!" both women screamed in unison as the boy sprinted after the group of aliens. Chichi ran after him, Baba trailing off behind her.

"WAIT!" Gohan tripped, sprawling on his face and rolling twice before scrambling back to his feet. "WAIT!" he overtook the rear guard, the men holding Piccolo, and crashed smack-dab into Kami as the old man halted. Gohan fell backwards, landing on his bottom. "Ow," he grumbled, standing up and rubbing his smarting tail. "Um," he looked up, and up, and up, into Kami's face. "Um, well…"

"Yyeeeess." Kami drew the word out between sharp fangs, raising his eyebrows.

"Um, you can't take him." Gohan pointed at Piccolo.

"Excuse me?"

Gohan nodded, "that's right. You can't take him." He crossed his arms, "Piccolo promised he wouldn't leave me."

Piccolo's ears perked. Kami and the other Namekians stared incredulously at the child.

"He…he what?"

Gohan's face flushed, he'd been hoping that his simple explanation would be enough.

"Well, Piccolo promised he wouldn't leave me. I asked him not to, and he said he wouldn't. Because I don't have a Daddy. And," Gohan gulped, tail swishing. Chichi and Baba paused, hands on knees and panting after their sprint, "And, I need a Daddy. And, Piccolo is my best friend… And…um… He saved me. So…" Gohan bit his lip to keep it from quivering. "So please don't take him away from me! He promised!"

Silence filled the clearing; even the wind ceased to blow and the birds paused their song. The entirety of the forest seemed attuned to this scene, this desperate plea.

Kami opened his mouth, closed it, and looked at Piccolo.

"Is this true?"

Piccolo nodded. Kami's brow furrowed slightly, seeing something amiss with the demon's face. He stepped carefully around Gohan, leaning close to Piccolo. "Your...your eyes..."

"What?" Gohan followed Kami, peering up Piccolo, "Oh, oh yeah when I first found him they were bright red, but they started to turn darker after the first week and kept doing it."

"I don't believe it... Your eyes..."

"Are like a normal Namek's!" the taller guard gasped, leaning in for a closer look, murmurs of surprise could be heard from the backup men.

"Not a demon?"

"Look, it's true!"

"By Porunga, his eyes are black!"

Piccolo was growing increasingly uncomfortable with all the close proximity; it took all of his willpower not to growl at someone.

"Excuse me," Gohan tugged on Kami's robe, "Sir, does this mean he can stay?"

Kami looked around at the group of Namekian Warriors in a complete loss for words.

"I..."

"Um, Kami?" Dende pushed through the group of fully grown warriors, "you were going to exile him, weren't you?"

Gohan and Piccolo's eyes widened as the meaning behind the boy's words dawned on them. Piccolo's heart beat frantically against his ribcage. Gohan looked pleadingly up at Kami, hands clasped over his chest, just under his chin.

"Oh please, Sir! Please! Piccolo can stay with me and Mamma, and I'll keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't get into trouble and, and - Oh please let him stay!"

A slow smile broke over Kami's thin lips. He knelt down to Gohan's level, placing a calloused hand on the boy's head and ruffling his hair.

"Can you do that?" he rasped, "keep an eye on my boy? He's a bit like my nephew, you know."

Gohan's eyes lit up, sparkling with happy tears,

"Oh yes, Sir! I can, Sir! I promise I'll make sure he's good and everything!"

"Very well," Kami said, standing tall among the other Namekians. "Hear this," he gestured to the listening crowd. "From this day forward, the Namekian Piccolo, formerly known as Ma Junior, is banished to the Planet Earth. He shall spend his life with his new caretakers," the elderly Namekian glanced down at Gohan, asking out of the corner of his mouth, "Eh, what's your name, son? And your mother's too."

"Son Gohan, and Mamma's name is Chichi," Gohan whispered secretively.

Kami nodded and continued.

"His new caretakers, Son Chichi and Son Gohan. So I have said it, so it shall be. Release him."

The guards let go of Piccolo, who instantly dropped to his knees as a tiny cannonball with black hair and a tail tackled him around the middle. He couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips, nor did he try to hide it as he pulled the child into a tight embrace.

Baba made a small noise of protest, but Kami's voice drowned her out, "Henceforth, this family is under the protection of the Namekian government. None shall interfere with their daily lives nor harass them in any way, shape, nor form." Kami extended his hand to Chichi, and said far more quietly, "I do hope you don't mind the extra body in your home; he doesn't eat much and is capable of clothing himself. If you have any concerns I'll be happy to assist -" he was cut off as Chichi, ignoring the offered hand, through her arms around the green elder's thin body, squeezing him in a surprisingly powerful embrace for a human.

"Thank you!" She sobbed, "thank you so much! Oh thank you!"

Kami very awkwardly patted her on the shoulder, looking incredibly bemused.

"I was afraid he'd do something like that," Baba grumbled crossly, folding her arms and harrumphing agitatedly. "Now, what are you going to do about your house?"

In the months following, Gohan, Piccolo, Chichi, and Dende – who had decided to stay behind on Earth to "be as close to Nail as possible," – worked diligently to rebuild the tiny cottage at the base of the mountain. The final product looked nothing like the original; Piccolo had scavenged remains from his ship for walls and a roof, and the two Namekians had used their odd magics to fuse the foreign objects to the native earth materials.

Chichi delicately hung the photographs back up on the walls. It was a miracle that none of them had been destroyed in the fight. She sighed, wiping a tear from her eye as she placed a picture on the new mantel. It was the day after Gohan had been born, Goku was grinning from ear to ear, kissing her on the cheek while she cradled the infant in her arms. It had once hung in the center of the wall. She had replaced it with a new photograph, taken only yesterday. Piccolo, with Gohan on his shoulder, Dende standing in front of him, and she next to the odd group. Chichi smiled as she gazed at the portrait, her eyes falling on Gohan and Piccolo.

They had both been lost, but by some beautiful coincidence – or maybe it was destiny – they had found each other.

For those of you who don't know, "He Mele No Lilo" is most commonly translated as "A Song for the Lost." Throughout the story, Piccolo and Gohan were both lost, emotionally, and in Piccolo's case, physically. Even Chichi was lost, she couldn't cope without Goku. Dende was lost without Nail. By the end of the story, no one was lost; they had all found something or someone to hold on to. Thanks for all of your support. And I'll be writing Gohan and Piccolo (and other DBZ) fics, don't worry : ) See you all again soon!

~Wulfeh

PS – listen to this Breaking Benjamin song (Better Days). In my mind, it is pretty much Pic's theme song. Annnd the Goo Goo Doll's "All That You Are" (minus the romancey stuff) is perfect for Piccolo and Gohan.

Until next time!