Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball or Dragonball Z

A/N: Here's you all a bit of sad and happy. This will probably be the last big look on Goku and crew until it's time for Vegeta to arrive since there will be more going on with the other perspectives. I mean, we all know what goes on during training. It's much more interesting to read about a prince plotting against his own right-hand man or a young kid be made anew as a tool of oppression. Anyway, read, review, and enjoy!

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

"Happy Birthday!"

"Suprise!"

"Hey, Han!"

Goku was standing in the doorway to the interior garden. Sunlight streamed through the giant glass panes in the ceiling. His hands still tingled with the burns from the massive Kamehameha. Caked in blood that didn't belong to him from head to toe.

He had sat there in the fields of some random farm, cradling Piccolo's head in his lap, trying to pour his own energy into his once enemy. Trying to hold the mess that was his brain where it belonged. All the while begging for the Namek to regenerate like he always did. For that smug green face to just reform. Then the body just disappeared, and immediately after, Kami's ki vanished as well. Goku knew what that meant. The Dragon Balls were gone. His son, his hope, was gone.

Then came the next issue, Raditz's corpse. Part of Goku wanted to grab the dead man and shake him. Demand answers. Release his frustrations. Another part just wanted to be done and focus on finding his son. So, that's what he had done. He'd yanked the strange device off of his supposed brother's face than did the only thing he could to muster the willpower to do, incinerate the corpse with the remaining bit of power he had.

Of course, he didn't just turn and go home afterward. Goku knew he should have. Time was of the essence, he was sure, but he was also sure that police officers and detectives and machines couldn't sense life force. So, he had sat out there desperately trying to sense his son to no avail. Instead, he could only think of how just a few nights ago he was contemplating the lives he had taken.

A part of him had regretted his actions. Now, an even larger part had regretted it. Raditz had come here because of death and killing. Gohan was taken for that reason. Raditz had supposedly been enslaved for that reason. If mercy was a bit more common in life, would any of this have happened?

Goku couldn't find an answer out there in a field with blood drying on him, and, now, in front of his family and friends, he was still left wondering. Bulma and everyone had registered the state he was in. She had noticed her son was not where he should be.

"Where's Gohan?"

Goku stuttered, a first for him, and said, "I-I don't know. We went to Roshi's and...and everything just…"

"Goku!" Krillin shouted as he burst into the building with the rest of the group from Kame house following.

"Oh thank goodness. We had followed after you but by the time we arrived, you had just left. How are you? How's Gohan?"

"Mr. Son?" Videl asked, tugging on his crusty Gi pants. She had slipped up unnoticed by everyone. Goku looked down to see her blue eyes starring up at him. She asked, "Where's Han?"

Goku looked at his friends and family. All their faces were so expectant. He knew what they were expecting. He'd tell them something they could work with. That Gohan was hurt. That Gohan was lost. Even that Gohan was dead. In a way, they were even right, but they missed the most vital part still. Gohan was gone and the Dragon Balls were gone with him.

"Gohan was taken. By Raditz," he tried.

"Raditz? Raditz, who? Taken where? Goku tell me where my baby is?" Bulma asked, almost blubbered.

"He is. Was. He was my brother. An alien. A Saiyan is what he called us. I killed him. We killed him. Piccolo helped me, for Gohan. They had a secret friendship," Goku pushed on. He knew what came next.

"Woah, that's crazy," Oolong muttered. It was Krillin that made the final leap though, "Piccolo? That's right! Piccolo! We've got the Dragon Balls! See, guys, it's all going to be fixed. Lets just...Goku?"

Goku's face was scrunched slightly and his lips were pressed together. His anger and sorrow raising, his power with it. Every ki sensitive being in the room could feel it swell, dwarfing all of them. It wasn't but a moment's slip-up before a will of iron from years of training clamped down. With a few steadying breaths, Goku explained, "No, Krillin, Piccolo was killed in the battle. With him dead, Kami is gone along with the Dragon Balls."

Bulma lost it. It wasn't a heart-wrenching sob like Goku had prepared for. It was, instead, a choked noise as though her throat had tightened. Like she couldn't inhale against the wretching sobs trying to claw their way out of her.

"Bulma, I'll find him. I promise I will," Goku tried to tell her. It was no use, though. She was gone, retracted into her own shell of despair where no one could possibly reach her.

Videl, too, had figured out enough of what was said to understand the importance of it all. Her best friend was simply gone. Here one day and vanished the next. It spread out like a disease, each member of the room catching the sadness.

Goku tried to stay strong and be the pillar of confidence for everyone like always, but he honestly couldn't have told anyone what happened after he finally got Bulma in his arms in the middle of the small crowd. He didn't know when or how he sat on the couch. Someone had made coffee at some point that had long since grown cold on the table.

The Satans had departed. Goku vaguely remembered Lilly and Mark offering a teary-eyed hug before carrying a traumatized Videl away as she clung to her father for dear life. That was the only farewell he remembered. The others eventually left, though, they had too of because the sun was slowly rising and all that was left was Goku and Bulma still hunkered together. Her parents sat on the couch opposite of them, sleeping fitfully it seemed.

"Goku, what are we going to do? He's in space. There's no other alternative. He's in space or he's…" Bulma couldn't bring herself to finish her thought. Goku nodded next to her and said, "I'll find him Bulma. I don't know how or where, but I will find him."

"You can't. We don't have spaceships like that. We can barely travel one planet over in less than a year," Bulma rasped. Her voice was shot from the crying.

"I don't care!" Goku snapped before taking a deep breath and trying again, "I don't care what it takes. You are the smartest person I'll ever know. You can build a ship. While you do that. I'll get tougher. Then I'll go out there and face whoever and whatever I have to."

Bulma said nothing for a minute. Then slowly she nodded and said, "You're right. We can't just sit here and give up."

It wasn't much but it was somewhere to start. Of course, neither of them discussed the vastness of space. The odds of finding someone who could point them in the right direction. The fact that they could always be chasing and never catching up. Because neither of them could bear that thought at the moment.

That first day was the hardest. Nothing got done. A lot of talking that lead nowhere. Even more crying from Bulma and her mother. Several hard drinks from Doctor Briefs before Breakfast was even over. Goku was withdrawn. Sitting in his son's bedroom on the floor clutching a stuffed toy to his chest. A silly purple dragon Gohan had named Icarus.

The first week followed this routine. Then the others started picking the Sons and Briefs back up. Krillin and Roshi both pushed Goku to train. Tien was tracked down to participate as well. Launch returned and played cheerleader and therapist for anyone needing her. Even Yamcha called in to let them know Krillin had filled him in and that he was back to training.

Dr. Brief started on the ship with the help of Bulma when she was available. For the most part, the young genius was kept busy between investigators and the press. The world was officially on high alert for one Son Gohan. A small militia's worth of private investigators, detectives, special task force operators, and even a few renowned bounty-hunters had pulled together to scour the world. The problem being that Gohan was no longer on the world. Still, it was better to get out in the open now and let the public see they were as lost and devasted as a family could be. They didn't need to be suspected of child murder now of all times.

Of course, it was no secret that Son Goku had resumed his training with a vengeance. Everyone chalked it up to the belief that when his son was located, the father would be going in personally. As the weeks and months began to pass, their opinions changed ever so slightly. The citizens of Earth held a bit of fear of their champion and the smallest iota of pity for whoever had ended up on the wrong side of the man.

The Saiyan's power had grown steadily as he outpaced everyone around him. The smallest of tremors could be felt around his training grounds. Busted rocks and destroyed cliffs were markers for his progress. Goku wasn't sure how it stood up to anyone off of Earth but he knew without a doubt, he had well-surpassed anyone else on the planet during in his seclusion.

The area of Mount Paoz had officially been declared off-limits by the might of the King of the world. The Ox-King himself saw to the enforcement of the declaration, a final thanks for Goku's aid years ago as well as an apology for his daughter's behavior. Goku himself continued along unaware anything other than training.

In Other World, a much different scenario was playing out. The ever moody Namekian Piccolo was traveling Snake Way. Kami had apparently pulled some serious strings and agreed to owe some big-time favors to have his soul judged separate that of his father, the original King Piccolo.

Turns out, his willingness to die for Gohan combined with his manipulated young mindset immediately after hatching had put him in a grey area morally. The conniving old guardian had seized the chance and got him permission to train with someone named North Kai.

The journey was proving to be quite a bit more difficult then he cared to admit. The damned cleaner had come through and nearly plowed him over and pushed him off into Hell. The latest and current issue, though, was a very angry snake chasing him down Snake Way. For some reason, his refusal to dine with a strange woman had invoked her wrath and her transformation.

Getting close enough to it to land a solid hit was strictly out of the question. He had tried a few basic blasts to no effect, and he didn't have the time to stop and concentrate. So, running, or more accurately flying, away he was.

He utilized his much smaller stature and tangled her around herself, her mansion, and even part of Snake Way itself. He hovered well out of reach for several moments looking at the raging serpent as liquid, venom or saliva he wasn't quite sure, dripped from its fangs. With a final shake of his head, he muttered, "Who the hell gets that angry over losing a dinner guest that doesn't even eat."

Feeling the hit to his power after it was all said and done, he flew just a bit further before landing once more on the path and continuing his run. A headache was forming as everyone time his foot came down a jolt ran up his back. Just when the thought of stopping to rest and catch his breath entered his mind, the golden clouds around him cleared away.

A faraway planet was becoming visible as he drew closer to the end. Then he realized something. That was a colorful splash amongst the greenery to represent a city, no, it was a single home. That dark green was not a forest. It was a tree. A single tree. As for the roadways, there was one.

Piccolo slowed to stop, gasping for air and scowling at the tiny planet in front of him. A couple of life forces could be felt from it, small life forces. So, it couldn't actually be that far away. He sighed and rallied himself before lifting off and flying towards the planet.

A sudden shift in gravity snagged him and pulled him in stronger than expected as he crashed to the ground. The feeling of crushing weight didn't leave as he lay there, struggling to raise. A small chuckled came from just out of his sight.

"Hey, why'd the giant hate his trip?" a nasally voice snorted.

"What?" Piccolo groaned, not understanding the questions.

"Because it took him so long to fall!" the voice burst out in glee.