Sharing the Dream
Part Five
Sequel to "Different Hearts, Same Dream"
A Dragonball Z fanfic
By Hana Noir
It was after dark when Piccolo returned to the Tenka, somewhat the worse for wear, but looking quite satisfied. Kyrie was in the small kitchen, helping herself to the dinner that Mr. Popo had prepared.
Popo looked a bit disappointed when Piccolo entered alone. "I had hoped that Gohan would join us," he said, clearing away the now unnecessary dishes and storing them away.
Piccolo shrugged. "He was worried that his mother would be looking for him."
Kyrie grinned. "I'll just eat it all tomorrow, Mr. Popo. Your cooking is wonderful." The rotund little man smiled and began to clean the dishes. "Just leave those," she said, gesturing with her spoon. "I'll clean them when I'm done. It's the least I can do."
"It's no trouble, miss, really." He tried to decline her offer but she remained firm and he relented. "Well, if you're sure…" When she finished, she rose from the table, and placed her dishes in the sink to wash along with the others. Piccolo leaned against the doorway watching her. It gave him a strange sense of contentment to see her here. He went back outside into the cool night air and stared up at the stars overhead. For the first time in a long time, he was satisfied with his life. He settled down with his back against the wall to meditate the night away, a small smile pulling at his lips.
MR. PICCOLO!!!
The burst of near hysterical panic startled Piccolo out of his meditations and his eyes flew open. He squinted against the glare of the early morning sunlight and tried to figure out what was wrong.
Gohan?
Mr. Piccolo! was followed by what sounded suspiciously like a sob.
Calm down. What's the matter?
Something's wrong with Mom!! The panic was back, almost choking in its strength. I – I came down for breakfast and I found her on the kitchen floor. She – she won't wake up!!!
Piccolo got to his feet hastily as Kyrie ran out of the main building. Her eyes were wide and startled and she was wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt. A pair of shorts were still in her hand. I'm on my way, Gohan. Call Bulma, tell her what's happened. I'll be there shortly.
O-okay… The boy's mental touch faded, but the panic still remained. Piccolo grabbed Kyrie by the wrist, ignoring her sputtered protests as they fell off the edge of the Tenka.
"What happened?" she asked, holding her shorts tightly against the gale force wind raised by their flight. He gathered her in closer, shielding her from the wind with his own ki. "You were calm, then all of a sudden you were agitated."
"Gohan called me," he said grimly, pouring all of his strength into their headlong rush. "Something's happened to his mother." It took them only minutes to reach the Son house. The back door was wide open and they could hear Gohan's voice from inside. Piccolo strode in, taking in the scene at a glance.
Chichi was sprawled out on the floor, a skillet near her outflung hand and scrambled eggs scattered across the floor. She was breathing slowly and there were dark, bruiselike circles under her eyes. Her face was drawn and pale and she looked as though she had lost weight. Gohan was kneeling next to her, holding her other hand tightly. His eyes were damp, but there was no sign of tears on his face.
"She – she won't wake up," Gohan said, his voice quavering. He didn't look at them, but he had sensed their arrival. Piccolo placed a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder, earning a grateful glance.
Kyrie had paused in the doorway to slip into her shorts, and now padded over barefoot to join them. She reached over to pick up Chichi's wrist, checking her pulse. It was steady and strong. She hmm'ed to her herself as she leaned over and placed an ear against the older woman's chest. Heartbeat sounded good. She started to reach for her face when Gohan's hand caught her wrist. Startled she looked up at the boy.
"What're you doing?" he asked, fierce protectiveness in his voice.
"Checking for any sort of injury, of course," Kyrie replied. "I've had a bit of medical training." She tilted her head, green eyes sympathetic. "I'm not going to hurt her, kiddo." Piccolo thumped Gohan on the head, making him wince and release her arm.
"Sorry," he mumbled. She nodded and took Chichi's face between her hand, lifting the eyelids to check her pupils. They were normal, dilating when the light struck them.
"It's not a concussion," she said, leaning back on her heels. "And all her vital signs are within normal range. I don't –" Her words were drowned out by the scream of an overhead jet engine, the piercing sound causing everyone inside to wince. Piccolo slapped protective hands over his sensitive ears and ground his teeth. He could see a hoverjet landing in the open space outside and two people exiting, making their way toward the house.
Bulma burst in the back door, towing a tall, lanky middle aged man with a bristly mustache behind her. "Oh, Chichi!" she exclaimed, pushing past Piccolo and kneeling next to Gohan. She gave Kyrie a brief glance then turned her attention to her fallen friend. The man with her pulled a stethoscope out of the bag at his side and began to check over her vitals.
A loud wail from upstairs made Gohan jump to his feet. Torn, he paused in the doorway when the doctor spoke. "I can't find anything physically wrong with her. Perhaps if we could move her somewhere more comfortable, I could work on bringing her around." He gawked, eyes bugging noticeably when Piccolo stepped up and smoothly lifted the unconscious woman up off the floor.
"Put her on the couch," Bulma said, taking charge. "Gohan, bring some pillows and a blanket." She took another look at Kyrie. "And you, go check on the baby." She turned and lead the way into the living room.
"Come on." Gohan tugged at her hand and she followed him mutely. When they were upstairs, Gohan opened a door, revealing a linen closet. He began to pull out what he needed. Kyrie stood by uncertainly. She wasn't sure what to do. She wanted to help, but she didn't know the first thing about babies. Gohan piled up the pillows and the blanket. "Goten's in there," he said, pointing to the open door down the hall. He hurried to take his load back downstairs, leaving a very befuddled young woman behind.
"Well," she said finally, listening to the baby's whimpering. "I guess I can do this…" She entered the brightly lit, cheerful room, heading for the crib on the far wall. She peered over the railing at the baby lying on the mattress. She blinked. He blinked, then gave her a toothless, slobbery grin. Her heart melted. "Hi, little guy." She reached in, ruffling the spiky black hair. He grabbed her hand and tried to pull it to his mouth. When he discovered it wasn't what he wanted, he released it, beginning to whimper again. When no comfort was forthcoming, the infant worked up to a full fledge scream, his tiny face turning red.
"Whoa, hey now, don't do that," Kyrie muttered, hesitantly reaching in to pick him up. She cradled him against her shoulder, holding him close. He grinned again, even cuter up close. She couldn't resist giving him a quick hug and he squealed, tiny fingers grabbing handfuls of hair. She winced when he pulled, but carried him back downstairs. Maybe someone down there would know what he wanted.
When she entered the living room, Chichi was propped up against a small mountain of pillows, a blanket over her lap. Her eyes were open, but she appeared to be a bit groggy. When she saw Kyrie in the doorway, her eyes widened and a bit of color rushed into her wan face "My baby!" she exclaimed, struggling to rise. Bulma frowned and pushed her back down, jerking her head at Kyrie to move closer.
"Lie still, Chichi," Bulma said firmly. "You heard the doctor. You're exhausted and you need to rest. Goten's fine." The look Chichi gave Bulma lacked its usual force and she sank back onto the couch. The baby had started crying at the sound of his mother's voice and Kyrie bounced him against her shoulder, not sure what to do now.
"There are bottles made up in the refrigerator," Chichi said, knowing what her son wanted. Gohan hovered anxiously at the arm of the couch, clearly reluctant to leave his mother's side. Bulma eyed the younger woman with more than a bit of speculation, then accompanied her into the kitchen. She busied herself with starting the first bottle heating, then leaned against the counter, drying her hands on a nearby towel.
"So, my name's Bulma, by the way," she said. "And you're?"
"Kyrie," she replied, feeling a bit nervous. These people had obviously know Piccolo for a long time. What if they didn't like her?
Since when have I ever cared about anyone else's damn opinion? was Piccolo's response. She grinned wryly, knowing that he had a point.
"Here," Bulma's voice intruded on their mental conversation when she handed a warm bottle to her. Kyrie supported the baby with one hand and reluctantly took the bottle.
"Uh…." She hated to admit it but…. "Now what do I do?" The look on Bulma's face was pure astonishment.
"You give it to the baby," she said slowly, speaking as if to someone of little intelligence.
"I've never done anything like this before," she replied, gritting her teeth on the biting retort she wanted to give.
Bulma blinked. "You're kidding." She shook her head. "No, I can tell you're not. Come on, I'll show you what to do." It didn't take long before Goten was nestled comfortably in Kyrie's arms, chugging away at the bottle. "That's all there is to it," Bulma said with a grin. "He'll probably want another one when he finishes that one, okay?" The girl nodded, a look of concentration on her face. Bulma checked on Chichi, who was dozing on the couch, before stepping outside to talk to Piccolo.
She found the tall warrior leaning against a tree facing the front door. "Bulma." He acknowledged her presence with a sharp nod of his head.
She ran a hand through her fine azure hair and sighed, glancing back at the silent house. "I feel terrible," she said softly. "I should have checked on her more often. But I supposed I was wrapped up in my own life…"
Piccolo glanced down at her, feeling the same himself. "Yeah," he replied. He folded his arms across his chest and stared at the house.
Bulma eyed him slyly and he began to feel a bit nervous. "So, when did you meet your friend?" she asked, amusement evident in her voice.
"A little more than a year ago," he replied shortly, hoping she would drop the subject. The curious gleam in her eyes told him that it wasn't likely.
"She's… interesting," Bulma said thoughtfully. "Seems a little shy though. I can't believe she'd no idea how to handle the baby." She grinned at Piccolo's discomfiture. "Oh, don't worry so much. I won't bother her. And I'll quit asking questions. For now. I need to call my mother and let her know that I'm staying the night. Chichi needs the rest." She shivered when the wind blew down on them. "I wonder what the weather's going to be like tonight?"
Piccolo looked up at the bright blue sky, considering. "It's going to be cold tonight. Might even see frost in the morning."
Bulma shivered again. "I have no idea how to use that wood burning heater in there either."
Piccolo smirked. "I'll start it before it gets dark." He had noticed that the woodpile was rather poorly stocked as well. "I'll get Gohan and we'll bring in some firewood. He'll be better for something to do."
Bulma nodded. "I'll fix Chichi a light lunch while you two are gone. Mind leaving your friend to help?"
He shrugged. "That's up to her."
