Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

A/N: Well, I'm home for the summer. Good for me, right? Anyway, glad everyone has enjoyed this story so far. And no, in answer to some emails I've gotten…this story is still not nearing an end. I'd say, perhaps, 12-15 more chapters remain. I know, it's getting really long. But I don't want to end it before it should. So, I hope no one minds the length…thanks for reading.

Thank you reviewers! By the way, is anyone else having trouble with the review, author or story alerts? Well I am. I haven't received emails for any reviews you guys have made, or been alerted when my fav stories are updated. Anyway, I just hope it isn't just my email account that's screwed up…Oh, I really hope not.

Nyx, unknown, Ace, dragon-lady, Piccolo'sdragon, Spellcaster Hikaru, Fallen Ryu, Volcanic, and MarshmellowDragon

Great to hear from all of you, hope you enjoy.

Chapter 14

He opened his eyes and blinked away the fuzziness. Where was he? What had happened to him? He couldn't answer these questions, but was relieved to find that the straps that had been holding him down were removed. And those odd bolts of electricity stinging his head, that were causing so very much pain, were also gone. He tried to get up but a shock of blatant, throbbing pain was sent from his brain-through his spine-and back again. He moaned and laid back down carefully, suddenly becoming nauseous from the intense aching.

White light. Blinding white light. Two figures above him…now four figures. Who where they? What did they want with him? And to top it all off, he couldn't see a thing except the silhouette their shadows cast above him.

"Hey look! He's awake!" Came a frantic/hopeful voice. Who's voice was that? He knew that voice, he'd known the person it belonged to? Didn't he?

"Come on Krillin, say something." The voice said again. Same man, same tone, same shape…same recognition. Kami, who was he? He was…he was…a friend. Yes, a friend. A close friend…black hair, facial scars, deep voice, good fighter. An old friend, a good friend. Yamcha.

"H-hey ya." Krillin muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. Anything louder would have caused his head to explode…or so he feared.

"Oh man, are we glad you're back!" He said, sounding relieved. But behind the relief was something else, something saddening.

"Was I gone somewhere?" Krillin asked in a half joke-half serious manner.

Krillin's eyes where slowly becoming adjusted to the bright lighting, the once dark shadows were replaced by familiar faces. Yamcha was above him, Yajirobe to his left, Goku to his right and, much to his surprise, Piccolo standing aloof in a far corner of the room. He turned his head to get a good look at Goku, whom he was about to smile toward, when something caught his eye. Something about Goku's face…his eyes…was different. An odd and un-Goku-like sorrow was there, unwavering and unnerving.

"Well, you've been out of it for over a week buddy." Yamcha explained. "We were beginnin' to wonder about ya."

"Oh, well, I…don't remember…much." Krillin said. "Actually, the last thing I remember clearly is…Gohan. Gohan!" He head jerked and he sat up quickly, ignoring the shooting pain in his head. He grabbed Yamcha by his forearms and shook his long time friend.

"Where's Gohan? Is he okay?" Krillin asked. But fear struck every fiber of his being when everyone is the room, save for Piccolo (who had his eyes closed to begin with), adverted their gaze away from him.

"Please guys." Krillin begged. "You gotta tell me…where is he? He's okay isn't he?"

Goku moved away so to allow Krillin a view toward the hospital bed, which until that very moment Goku's body had been blocking. Krillin got a good look at Gohan, who appeared to be sleeping soundly. That was a relief, he'd been really frightened for a minute there.

"Gosh guys, you had me worried." He said, laying back down. "I mean, he's just sleeping…isn't he?"

No answer for a few minutes. Yamcha was about to start an explanation when Goku spoke up.

"He is sleeping." Goku said, his voice shallow and void of all emotion…except, perhaps, a small tremor of grief. "But, the problem is he…might not wake up."

Krillin's face fell, but Goku didn't give the former monk time to recuperate from that piece of information. "If he does though, he might…not be…all right." Goku's face scrunched slightly, like he'd bitten into a lemon.

"I don't understand." Krillin said. "I mean, if I woke up then he should too. Come on, he's stronger than me! I don't know what you're trying to tell me. Why would he not wake up, or have something wrong with him?"

"Something about what was done to him." Yamcha said lowly, sensing the escalating tension in the room. As of yet, Piccolo and Yajirobe had just remained quiet.

"He was too young to handle it," Yamcha continued "and they had to knock him out with some kind of poison. So, that means he might just stay asleep…forever."

"You mean like, in a coma or something. Like in those crazy movies with someone on a breathing machine and feeding tube?" Krillin asked in disbelief.

"This is no movie you moron!" Piccolo nearly shouted. He'd not spoken for the eleven day's they'd been on the journey home, and so the outburst succeeded in startling everyone in the room. In fact, he'd barely emerged from the GR, save to drink some water or visit secretly with Gohan. So his mere presence in the room was curious enough.

"I didn't mean any…disrespect." Krillin said, his voice wavering from sheer emotion. He suddenly felt utterly shameful for making such a comparison. But when he was this distraught, he just said the first thoughts that came to his mind…no matter how ridiculous, rude or outright stupid they were.

"Don't worry Krillin, we know you didn't mean anythin' by it." Yamcha said, sending a warning glare in Piccolo's direction.

"What?" Piccolo spat out. "Are you challenging me human? Well, then, bring it on."

Piccolo took a threatening step forward and eyed Yamcha, giving him a look that was easily recognizable: "Don't mess with me if you want to live." And Yamcha, against his better judgment, took his own step toward the intimidating green warrior towering a good foot above his head.

"That's enough you two." Goku said irritably. "We cant start fighting amongst ourselves, it wont help anyone."

Piccolo snorted and crossed his arms over his massive chest. He'd lost his cool just then, he realized that. But who the h-ll could think straight at a time like this anyway? Besides, the tiny man hadn't tried to be rude, he liked Gohan as much as anyone. But Piccolo was far more edgy and irritable than usual, mostly because he was worried. Actually, he was beyond worry…he was frightened. And accepting that fact just made his anxiety (and mood) worse.

"I need to rest." Krillin muttered, more to himself that anyone.

"Yeah, I think rest would do us all some good." Goku said, turning toward the others. "Lets go to bed, hm?"

Piccolo was the first out of the room, crowded spaces had always made him uncomfortable. He made his way to the GR, what seemed to be his new home, and reached for the handle.

"Mind if I join you?" Came a voice from behind him.

"What for?" Piccolo countered crossly.

"Well, I just…want to." Goku said, taking a few steps forward.

A grunt was his only reply, and the Saiyan followed his long-time foe into the GR.

"And just what do you plan on accomplishing?" Piccolo growled. "You and I both know you're stronger than me."

"That doesn't mean we can't have a good spar, does it?" Goku said thoughtfully, though his usual bounce and exuberance was gone.

"Feh, we've never sparred together in our lives." Piccolo dropped his weights.

"Yeah, you're right." Goku stretched. "If we weren't in a life-or-death fight against each other, we were trying to beat someone stronger."

Yet again, only a grunt was his reply. As each fighter dropped to his stance, and eyed each other expectantly, an eerie suspense entered the GR. And when each warrior attacked, their motions exhibited a type of elegance and precision any professional athlete would kill for. One would attack and block, the other would counter-attack and block. This system repeated, with the exception of a stray blast or energy wave that missed its mark, until both skilled combatants were weary and spent.

Having transformed during a climatic moment of battle, Goku powered down and sat on the floor. Gohan fought like Piccolo, his son truly mimicked his mentor. After having sparred with his son countless times before, he'd memorized his son's rhythm and style. And just now, during the spar with Piccolo, he could see where Gohan got every motion and punch. It was a little saddening, knowing that his son would always have Piccolo's training as a foundation and not Goku's own. But, what's done was done and it couldn't be taken back.

"Stop staring." Piccolo blurted, sitting lotus position twenty feet away from Goku.

"Oh, sorry. Just thinking." He said.

"So you have that ability after all." Piccolo sneered.

Goku chuckled lightly and rolled his eyes. He would never understand the mystery that was Piccolo. Gohan was so very different from him and yet, they were friends. The closest of friends, in fact. Then, a more recent memory invaded Goku's mind.

XxXx--

Gohan had already dropped to a fighting stance and waited on his father. Goku was, odd as it was, a little nervous. He'd been home for a week now and Gohan had barely spoken to him, mostly to say goodnight or good morning. Things between he and ChiChi were much better, but Gohan still seemed so weary and distant.

Finally, though, he and Gohan had agreed to spar together…it was a start, at least. Goku took his stance and had nearly gotten ready to attack when…

"Wait a minute." Gohan said.

"What?" Goku asked, eye brows furrowed.

"Your stance is wrong." Gohan said plainly. "Piccolo-san says to keep your feet the same distance apart as your shoulders. He says it's better for balance."

Goku looked at his feet and shrugged. "Well, this technique has worked for me so far. I'll stick with what I know."

"Okay then." Gohan said, not thinking twice about it.

Only a few minutes later, after exchanging only a few punches.

"Dad…"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you keep your elbows up like that?"

Goku stopped and looked at his arms. "What do you mean?"

"Well, they're bent too far up." Gohan pointed to his arms that were lower. "Piccolo-san says to keep your arms from getting to high, otherwise your ribs are exposed."

Goku laughed a little and asked jokingly "So, do you do everything Piccolo tells you to?"

"Well…yeah." Gohan said smiling and laughed, Goku laughed too. Then they continued sparing.

XxXx--

"Hey Piccolo." Goku said, after being silent several minutes.

Piccolo cracked an eye and looked his direction.

"Can I ask you somethin'?"

"I swear, if you start up 'twenty questions' like that brat of yours…I'm leaving." Piccolo growled and tightened his jaw.

"No, no. Just one question." He said, waving his hands in defense. "Then I promise to leave you alone."

"Fine. One." He said, closing his eyes as in meditation.

"Why do you like Gohan so much?"

Piccolo's eyes snapped open and he glared at this man for asking such an intrusive question. He didn't have to answer that. He didn't have to explain himself to anyone…ever! And especially about something that he himself was still uncertain of. He closed his eyes again, feigning meditation and thought. He had not intended to answer. But to his dismay, he spoke before rationalizing his words.

"Because…he liked me first."

Piccolo leaned back, unfolded his arms, unfolded his legs and stared at the florescent lights above him. That had been the reason…that had been it all along. He liked Gohan because Gohan had liked him first. He cared about Gohan because Gohan had cared about him first. Everything else: the friendship, the trust, the bond, all of it…that had just came later. Kami, what a revelation. And now of all times…in the GR…with Son Goku as a momentary companion. How ironic.

"Oh, well, okay." Goku said, not only sounding slightly confused but looking it too. "Like I said, I'll leave you alone now."

Goku stood and walked out into the corridor, making his way to his bedroom. Sleep claimed him quickly, but the same could not be said for Piccolo. The Namekian was too absorbed in his newly acquired knowledge to even try to sleep. He knew now the secret behind his deep affection for the kid, a long time anomaly even to himself.

Piccolo thought for a moment, trying to imagine life without Gohan. Or worse, having to live with the knowledge that Gohan's power and potential was being wasted as an invalid. If Gohan died, at least they could possibly wish him back. But if he was brain dead, or the like, and had no way of being cured, that would truly be torture. Piccolo grimaced at the thought.

Do us all a favor and wake up kid. Piccolo silently pleaded. I'll treat you better than I did before… just be all right.

Gohan lay in the hospital bed of Capsule Corp. with pillows and covers surrounding him on all sides. Several machines were near him: monitoring his heart, blood pressure, respiration, temperature, and brain waves. Nothing had changed. Not in the near two months since the incident on Fotia had occurred. But there was simply nothing that could be done. If Gohan got too pale or thin, a senzu bean was crushed and put into his feeding tube. That would make him look better for a long while, but it would have to be done again.

The space ship had landed outside the gardens of Capsule Corp. ten days ago. Everyone had been informed of their arrival, and so where present to greet the warriors upon return. But the reunion had not been all cheers, for ChiChi and Goku had to rush Gohan to a hospital immediately after exiting the ship. It didn't take long for the doctors to give up hope on the boy, they simply didn't have the medical knowledge to help. So, Bulma had let Gohan take up residence in the medical wing of the castle she called a home.

Currently, Gohan was being bathed by his mother. She'd stopped crying days ago, honestly running out of tears to shed. She'd wanted at first to simply kill her husband and Piccolo, they had promised not to let anything happen to her baby. But, when she got her first chance to scold them (or beat them one) she couldn't. They looked worse than miserable or even depressed…they were empty.

Goku didn't smile like he once had, he had trouble eating, he didn't train, he barely slept. Worse though, in ChiChi's mind, was Piccolo. His onyx eyes, that were once so full of life and fire, were barren and void. Perhaps no one else noticed, for no one knew him as she and Gohan did, but he was so very different. He did not eat or sleep or smile, he never really had. But he trained relentlessly, moreso than ever before. He was beating on himself; inflicting as much physical pain as possible without actually causing permanent damage, but no one was around him to see it.

All Goku's and ChiChi's time, however, was devoted fully to Gohan. But even they were growing tired of the regime. Piccolo, the rare time that he didn't spend training, he'd visit with Gohan through an open window. He knew the arrangement and when the best time was to catch the Son's sleeping, so as not be noticed. But he knew the ultimatum the Son's had been given, they had been presented several times with one option: turn off the machines.

Gohan could not live without the machines. One pumped air into his lungs and carbon dioxide out of them. A feeding tube gave him nourishment, to keep the body alive. A catheter removed the fluids in his bladder, while a "big boy" diaper was used for obvious reasons. And lastly, an IV tube was run into the fleshy part of his wrist to keep him hydrated. Remove any one of the devises and Gohan would cease to be. A fact which daily tormented his family and friends.

Today though, Piccolo was meditating by his waterfall. On this day, he had decided not to train. Why? He didn't know, he felt something telling him not to. He felt like he needed to be in deep concentration, in full awareness, in complete relaxation. So, he did. This 'little voice', as one might call it, had never been wrong. It had been the one to tell him to train Gohan in the first place. If that was not a sign to be obedient, then what was?

So their he sat, in one of the deepest meditations he'd been in since the trip to Fotia. That's when he felt it. A shimmer…a hope. Something familiar, very familiar. At first it was weak, unsure and fleeting. But then it became stronger, fiercer, more aware. Gohan was awake, Piccolo could feel him through and through.

So he left. He flew as fast as he could toward Capsule Corp., his heart was pounding in his ears and he found himself feeling nervous. It had been so long, so many weeks. Was Gohan alright? Would they be? Would he be in time? Piccolo didn't know, so he tried to just clear his mind altogether.

Elsewhere-

"Gohan?" ChiChi asked. Her son's eyes were open. He was looking at her.

"Gohan, son, can you hear me?" Goku asked.

The boy nodded only slightly, his head hurt and he could barely move. He felt so weak and fragile, like someone had drained all his energy out of his body. Plus, he was plugged into at least five different machines and one was in his mouth. He tried to talk but no noise came, he felt like something was attached to his throat. So, he coughed and gagged, making his eyes water and ears ring.

"No honey, don't try and talk. You have a tube in your mouth." ChiChi said soothingly.

Gohan was staring at her with wide eyes, then his gaze turned to Goku with the same expression. He looked confused…even scared. What was wrong with him?

Bulma entered the room, after Goku went to fetch her, and gently started removing Gohan's feeding tube and respirator. She explained to him every inch of the way that he needed to relax and allow his body to readjust to breathing on its own. Then she removed the catheter, again explaining what it was for. But Gohan had been very squeamish with her, recoiling from her every touch.

"Gohan, you can sit up and talk now." ChiChi said.

Bulma stood at the door, should anything medical go wrong, while Goku and ChiChi leaned on the bed their son was in.

Gohan remained silent for a long time. He looked around the room, at ChiChi, at Goku, at Bulma. Nothing. He was so confused and even frightened. He looked out the window then, feeling something approach. Goku also looked out the window, recognizing Piccolo's ki outside the mansion. Bulma nearly leapt out of the doorway as Piccolo barged into the room.

Gohan squeaked slightly at the sight of such an odd looking person. Green? Were people normally green?

"Gohan?" ChiChi asked. "Please say something. Let us know you're all right."

For what seemed like an eternity, Gohan just sat on the bed and stared at the four of them. Bulma was uncomfortable after the first few minutes and finally Piccolo had been in silence long enough.

"If you are capable of answering then do it." He said, though making a point not to sound too harsh.

Gohan looked at him, scrutinized him from head to toe. Then, without looking to anyone else in the room, replied "I can answer you. I'm just confused."

"About what hun?" ChiChi asked, stoking his hair.

Gohan jerked and ducked his head away from her touch. "I don't know you. Please don't do that."

ChiChi's eyes bulged, as did Goku's and Bulma's.

"What? What do you mean you don't know me?" ChiChi exclaimed. Then her voice rose. "I'm your mother!"

Gohan looked down at his hands and then to Goku. "Then, are you my father?"

Goku just nodded consent.

"Okay. Then…who am I?"

ChiChi looked to Goku, who looked to ChiChi. Before anyone could stop her, ChiChi burst into tears. She had been warned of this, but it still didn't seem real. Gohan didn't remember her. He didn't remember his own mother, or father, or anything.

"Don't cry. I'm sorry I don't remember." Gohan said, suddenly feeling guilty.

"It's okay son, we'll work this out." Goku said, putting an arm around ChiChi's waist.

Bulma had left the room, she was nearing tears herself. But Piccolo had remained, both motionless and speechless. So, Gohan had amnesia. How would they get through this one.

Gohan looked away from his upset parents and toward the green man. He felt something, something slight. Like when you wake up from a lingering dream, unsure whether you're still dreaming or not. That was what it felt like, cloudy and unclear. Gohan blinked and studied the expression of the tall, odd colored man before him. But the man didn't seem to have a single readable expression.

"So," Gohan said to him. "Who are you?"

Piccolo didn't answer for sometime, and seemed to be completely unaware that a question had been directed to him. Then, he took a step forward, and looked the boy square in the face. Gohan tensed a little, not really afraid of the man, but well aware that the man didn't look or sound very happy. Still, there was something about the green man he liked…even trusted.

"A friend." Piccolo said in a calm and even tone, watching the boy smile slightly. "Just a friend."