Chapter 13
It hurt.
From the tips of his toes to the bulbs of his antennae, it hurt. But he couldn't let go of the boy, because with that hurt came something much more precious and vital. His identity.
You're Piccolo.
Like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
That simple statement, from Gohan, had landed on his ears and proceeded to permeate every fiber of his being. It managed to burn away the dizzying haze that clouded his sanity with a collage of personalities, and snatched the right one from the tangle.
Just two words.
And now, he clutched to his pupil, overwhelmed by some powerful sentiment that made him want to both weep, and power up to the heavens - a soul-aching emotion that some distant place in his now-clear mind associated with gratitude. But the only thing he was truly cognizant of, as his face was buried against a shoulder no wider than his cheekbone, was how such a small person could make him feel so significant. So essential.
So…loved.
His throat was constricted, so he couldn't say it. His thoughts were on fire, so he couldn't send it telepathically. The two words that needed to be said back…
Thank you…
And he didn't get the chance, either.
A malevolent presence slammed into his back, nearly winding him with its intensity. He knew who it was before he even disentangled himself from the healing embrace. And Goku voiced its name with uncharacteristic venom.
"Cell…"
Piccolo and Gohan turned to see the green, sculpted monster standing there in parade rest, a sinister smirk splitting his perfect face.
"Well, well, well," he goaded in that deceptively well-mannered voice. "Now wasn't that a touching scene." Cell brought his arms up and folded them mockingly, taking immense enjoyment in having caught them in a tender moment.
In the midst of a surging rage that was all his own, Piccolo felt violated. Violated that such a cataclysmic moment of his life had been shared with such a despicable creature. His jaw clenched in forced restraint as he tried to temper his knee-jerk reaction, which was to power up and fling himself at the monster.
Cell's gaze landed on him. "Piccolo's ki signature suggested he was coming to fight early, and I have to admit, I was looking forward to it," he chimed melodiously, with all the confidence of an individual who had bought into their own superiority. Then he eyed Goku, and flicked a glance at Gohan. "But it looks like you two changed his mind."
Piccolo stood, his hands balled in fists, and his pupils shrinking to pinpricks in his ire. "I'll fight you now or later," he said heatedly. "Makes no difference to me."
"Yeah!" Gohan challenged, falling in step beside him. Piccolo felt a moment's reservation for Gohan putting his life on the line. But it was what he and Goku had trained him for. Besides, it wasn't like either of them could get the boy to leave now anyways.
He noticed Goku looking at him, and they locked stares silently. Piccolo gave a subtle nod of his head, and Goku pursed his lips in acknowledgement. Then he glared death at Cell.
"So we fight now," the full-blooded Saiyan stated, drawing the menace's penetrating attention. "But I'm first."
.
She'd made him crazy. Axle wasn't sure how, but she recognized a split personality when she saw one. And whatever efforts Piccolo had made at holding it together were indisputably undermined by her impetuous, desperate, hormonal attack.
And right before the biggest fight of his life, too. She wondered what state young Gohan had found him in, and if the warrior was salvageable.
Axle, you selfish she-beast, she berated herself heatedly. You should have waited, and made sure he was Nail. Or smarter yet, you should have left him the hell alone. She swallowed the lump in her throat.
I've done nothing but harm, here.
Axle's session of mental self-flogging was abruptly interrupted when Dende came rushing past her with a wide-eyed, terrified expression. Even in the dark, she could make it out.
"Dende?"
He stopped reflexively, but didn't turn around, his eyes fixed on the black horizon. "They've started," he choked, his dread nearly tangible.
She uncurled herself from the floor and walked up to him. "What?"
"Goku is fighting Cell."
Her stomach dropped out. "Are you sure?"
He nodded weakly, and ran out to the edge of the Lookout. She followed and watched as the tenderling peered over the drop, with more lines of worry on his rounded face than any child should have.
"I…I can't see them!" he said, nearly in tears. "Piccolo taught me, but I…"
Axle knelt down beside him and put an arm around Dende's shoulders, his anxiety making her forget about her own. "Relax, scrub. Calm your mind, and then see."
He bit his bottom lip, as though to keep it from quivering and inhaled a deep, shuddering breath. He closed his eyes when he exhaled. It took a moment, and she felt his shoulders lose their rigidity. His lids fluttered open, and he squinted down at the earth below.
His breath caught in his throat. "There…"
Axle would have given two of her limbs to see with a guardian's eyes in that moment. "What's happening?"
"Goku's fighting him, and…and he's so…" his face scrunched in disbelief, "confident…."
"Who's there with him?"
"Piccolo and Gohan."
She winced at Piccolo's name. "Piccolo? Is he…himself?"
Dende broke his concentration to toss her a perplexed glance. She shrugged. He looked back, narrowed his eyes in scrutiny and then nodded. Axle felt a weight lift off her conscience, only to have it fall right back on when she made the connection. This premature fight was indirectly her fault. In his crazed state, Piccolo had sought out Cell. She was sure of it.
Dende's eyelids fluttered, and his mouth shaped an 'o'. "Trunks and Vegeta just got there," he said. "And Tien, Krillin, and Yamcha aren't far off."
Axle decided to hold her tongue. As hard as it was, she kept her comments to herself and let the young guardian focus. She figured that any pertinent news would be voiced, whether she asked or not. Dende had enough trouble concentrating, and she didn't need to add to his humungous burden by pestering him for every detail.
So she watched in an almost maternal concern as his tiny hands trembled and his eyes reddened with irritation from forgetting to blink. The longest stretch of a short amount of time passed, and then, just as she'd assumed, Dende cried out.
"He quit! Goku stepped down!"
The hero everyone counted on? It didn't sound right… Then as if the expression on Dende's face wasn't stunned enough, he coughed honest surprise.
"It can't be…"
"What?"
"Goku. He's making Gohan fight."
"WHAT?" she screamed. "His prepubescent SON?"
Dende nodded grimly. Axle fell back on her butt, and gawked at the little guy. A visual of that sweet-natured boy getting bloodied and broken by such a monster made her stomach churn. Then she noticed the horribly pained look on young Dende's face, and she suddenly wanted to strangle someone.
What kind of SICK planet is this, to put innocent children in the self-sacrificing roles of Savior and God?
Another silence fell, and Axle's heartbeat thumped in her ears as she struggled to swallow the latest disturbing news. Dende's next exclamation came all too soon, and not soon enough.
"Ah! Cell just regurgitated one of the androids!" he choked. "Gohan's…winning!"
She blinked. Was it possible?
"He's unbelievably…powerful," Dende said, and for the first time a shocked smile lifted the corners of his mouth. "I can't believe-" The smile came right off. "Oh no…"
That was Axle's cue for a 'What's happening?' but instead she inched closer to the edge of the platform in a pointless effort to share the same vision as Dende. Then, without warning, the little namekian plowed into her and clutched at her torso like the tenderling he was.
Axle would have been relieved to see him finally act his age, had his sudden lack of composure not been so damned unnerving. She hugged him to her, feeling a brand new strand of nervousness course through her veins. "What is it, scrub? What is it?"
He whimpered. "Cell's going to self-destruct!" he cried and buried his face in her vest. "It'll destroy the whole planet!"
Dread formed a knot in her stomach that corded its way up her esophagus and clamped down her throat. "Keep watching," she urged for no other reason than it was the only thing they could do.
Without letting go of her, Dende turned his head just enough to look over his shoulder at the deciding moment of earth's fate. His trembling stopped abruptly as he stiffened in her arms. A quick gasp of breath was her second clue that some momentous turn of events had just occurred.
"He's…gone…" he said, and pulled his teary eyes away from the scene below to peer up at Axle. "Goku transmitted him before he could blow up. He sacrificed himself."
Goku and Cell. Gone. Just like that.
.
A cricket chirped in the background, but its song was overpowered by the sobs of an eleven-year old boy. Piccolo didn't realize that he'd been holding his breath until his chest began to hurt.
Goku…
"I should have killed him," Gohan sputtered in between hiccups, and his ki started to flare, "WHEN…" It radiated and swirled dangerously. "I. HAD. THE…" His energy exploded around him in a tangible bass whoom. "CHAAAANNNCE!"
Piccolo, along with the others were flung way back. He powered up for purchase, and held against the onslaught, feeling as though the waves were going to rip the skin right off his bones. He tried to peer through the gust, but his eyes couldn't withstand the torrent.
Then it stopped. Abruptly, suddenly stopped. Piccolo tumbled forward in the air having no more resistance to push against, and when he righted himself, what he saw snatched the breath from his lungs.
Gohan. Doubled over, rolling in the dirt, clutching at a bloodied chest. And before him, with all the cocky malevolence of an unbeatable villain, stood Cell. Untouched.
No…!
.
"What do you mean he's back!"
Dende's cherubic face had paled considerably, and he looked for all the world like he was about to vomit. "And he hurt Gohan."
"SHIT!" Axle spun up on her feet and began to pace, not even wanting to think about how he'd returned from the dead. "There has to be something…a loophole…some leverage the Eternal Dragon has over such a destructive creature."
"He can't kill him-"
"I KNOW that," she snapped. "But what about relocating him to another dimension-"
"Cell can refuse to go."
"And stripping him of his power?"
Dende shook his head. "Can't. For the same reason that Shenlong can't kill him. The Dragon can't take strength away from a healthy being."
"Well then what good is the damned, enormous slug!"
Dende cowered at the timbre of her voice, but at least he was distracted from the end of the world. "Maybe it can forge something that can kill him," she muttered. "Some weapon…"
Weapon. Her mind trailed to the emulsifier she used to pack around until Namek, where she'd unwittingly left it. The very weapon that disintegrated the head of a being as powerful as Etrack, not to mention all the destructive uses she'd found for it as a mercenary.
"Can the dragon create?"
Dende blinked. "Not from nothing. He can restore, relocate, organize-"
"Organize," she breathed, as the idea formulated in her head. What could they possibly have to lose? "Dende, summon the Eternal Dragon."
.
"You don't really believe you'll be able to stop me, do you?" Cell laughed at Piccolo and Krillin as they stood braced over Gohan's groaning form. Vegeta hovered back while Trunks, Tien, and Yamcha stepped forward with their hands clenched.
Piccolo was beyond hearing, and he quaked with a rage that bubbled up his throat and exploded out of his mouth in a roaring blast. Cell deflected it with ease, and smirked.
"As I was saying-" the monster began, only to stop mid-speech as the sky suddenly went black.
.
"Organize an emulsifier capable of destroying evil!" Dende asked, amazingly comfortable in the presence of the monstrous snake. Axle nodded at their precise wording, hoping that if they left it generic enough, the dragon wouldn't be bound by its ridiculous restrictions. The few seconds until its booming, thunderous response stretched unbearably.
"IT IS DONE."
Dende dismissed Shenlong, and with a great crackle it absorbed back into the dragonballs, awaiting the second wish.
Axle blinked. "Where the hell is my damn artillery?" she asked, looking around. "My destroyer-of-Cell weapon?"
Dende shrugged and scanned the Lookout. "It must be somewhere…"
A soft cry sounded behind them, and she and Dende spun around. Axle's first thought as her jaw dropped to the floor was that someone needed to put clothes on that frightened, naked creature.
Her second thought was that she should have been more specific about the type of emulsifier they requested.
"Well," she huffed in stunned disbelief. "So much for a gun."
.
Piccolo lifted himself weakly off the ground and looked at his fallen comrades. Yamcha, Krillin and Tien were all in various states of agony nearby. Cell had taken an extra interest in the Saiyans, and was currently smacking Vegeta around. Trunks was already unconscious.
Gohan was still out of commission, which both relieved and pained Piccolo. It pained him that he was so wounded, and relieved him because Cell had stopped taking interest in the half-Saiyan as a result.
Gohan… He knew it was pointless - that Dr. Gero's monster would kill them all in moments, anyhow - but Piccolo couldn't stop himself from inching over to the crumpled boy, and wrapping him protectively in his arms. Gohan convulsed lightly, and his clenched eyes fluttered open, and looked painstakingly at Piccolo. The hole in his chest had no doubt pierced a lung, and he opened his mouth to speak, but only blood came out.
"Don't try to speak, kid," Piccolo forced through his constricted throat. "You did what you could." He wanted to add, It's not your fault, but a sudden distant noise penetrated his ears.
It was a wail. A screech. And it ricocheted all the way to his toes, as bone-chilling and eerie as a harpy's lament.
Piccolo wasn't the only one that heard it, either. Vegeta was dropped in the dirt like a marionette with the strings cut as Cell jolted at the sound. A shared vibe of 'What is that?' rallied between them, followed by sudden gasps as the thing came into view.
Screaming over the landscape like a wayward comet was an object of white fire, radiating brightness like the sun. It closed in fast. Too fast. And with it came that unbearable cry. Piccolo grunted, and foregoing his own sensitive hearing, clamped his hands protectively over Gohan's ears.
It swooshed down and hovered menacingly before Cell, its cry lowering in scale and decibel to a rumbling growl. Through the light, Piccolo could see nothing but a blurred humanoid shape inside its aura like an un-hatched bird. The only distinguishable feature was a pair of vibrant, penetrating violet eyes that peered through the blinding haze. And they were locked on Cell.
In a moment of bewildered terror, Piccolo found himself grateful that he was one of the good guys. The being was truly frightening. Even Cell suffered from a lapse of composure.
"Who…what are you!" He cried out, his earlier eloquence gone.
Piccolo wondered the same thing.
It bobbed in the air, as though taking delight in Cell's discomfort, saying nothing. Nothing at all.
Gohan moved in Piccolo's arms, and he looked down to see that he had opened his eyes and was gawking at the newcomer in blatant confusion, interspersed with his agony.
When he looked back up, with no more warning than a flicker of its eyes, the thing's wail crescendoed back up to its terrifying pitch and it lunged at Cell, latching onto his body.
In a panic, Cell tried to disentangle himself, but it was too late. He began to twitch and yelp as its light consumed him, and it wasn't long before his own screams joined that of his persecutor's.
It swirled and expanded, swallowing the villain completely, and Piccolo half-turned to shield Gohan from it, unable to bear its intensity. Great gurgling noises began to emanate from the scene, and then, just as quickly as it brightened, the radiance dimmed. Piccolo turned back, his eyes unable to widen any further. "I…I don't believe it…"
Simmering where Cell used to be was a puddle of frothy slime, oozing into the soil like a slippery poison. And looming over it, with the all the savage righteousness of an Angel of Death, stood…a girl.
Her appearance was almost as overwhelming…as surreal as Cell's abrupt demise. A mane of white, snowy hair billowed about her tall, lithe frame like an ivory aura - and her smooth skin consisted of a glossy opaqueness that was more reminiscent of a seashell or arctic sky than actual flesh. And the violet hue of her too-large eyes seemed crystalline, as though her irises were nothing but diamond prisms to catch light. It was like someone had snatched her out of the heavens, or the depths of the sea.
Or both.
Piccolo then realized that she wore namekian clothing, much like the kind that Nail had fashioned for Axle once upon a time, with pants and a laced up vest, the material modified to match the bluish purple of her eyes… It didn't take long for him to make the connection. Dende had sent her, and in all probability had wished her into existence to stop Cell. How, he had no idea.
Unbelievable…
Everyone was speechless, save for a soft groan from Trunks, who had managed to return to consciousness after the fact. He sat up groggily, and winced, holding his head. Then, as though he suddenly remembered that he was supposed to be dead, straightened and looked around frantically, his perplexed gaze bouncing between his fallen comrades.
Oh yes, Piccolo thought in wholly inadequate words. We're all here, boy. And no less stupefied than you.
Then he saw her, and after a drawn out moment of gawking, he blurted out what was on everyone's mind. "Who's that? What happened? Wh-where's Cell!"
Krillin huffed. "We don't know. We're not exactly sure. And we think he's dead."
The girl perked at their voices, and lifted her gaze from Cell's remains to her stunned audience. And for all her previous intimidation, the effeminate creature nearly bent over herself in a cower when she saw them. Her feathery brows raised in the center in obvious distress, and her expression became nervous, afraid. The destroyer of Cell, the Savior of the planet…
…portrayed all the accidental shyness of a lost puppy.
Piccolo blinked. What the…?
"I think…" Yamcha stammered in quiet awe, "I think she's about to cry."
"Agh! Enough of this!" Vegeta barked, his gravelly voice more annoying that the shrill sound of machinery. He stood to his feet and limped over to her, flinging a finger in her face. "I don't have the patience for this enigmatic nonsense. Who are you? And how did you defeat Cell?"
As if the transformation from destroyer to maiden-in-distress wasn't quick enough, she reverted back to berserker in the wink of an eye. That horrible, awful noise emanated from her mouth again as she locked her gaze on Vegeta, and the wind whipped and whirled around her, firing up with the brilliant light.
Even Vegeta's practiced mask of schooled annoyance broke, and he stumbled back, his eyes widening dramatically. She leapt at him, knocking him down. He went completely rigid, as she snarled and sniffed at his skin as though…
As though assessing his capacity for evil, Piccolo contemplated. The powerful dragon spawn, if it was indeed Shenlong who had created her, must have been like a homing device for malevolence. And Vegeta's alignment with good was still reluctant at best…
Vegeta… He had the distinct impression that if she wanted to kill him, there wouldn't be much any of them could do about it. Not that he would miss the high and mighty Prince of Saiyans, but still…
"Father!" Trunks cried, and leapt forward so quickly that Piccolo didn't even realize what had happened until the lavender-haired Saiyan materialized yards from them, flinging Vegeta behind him. Vegeta was still dumbstruck after being the recipient of the girl's wrath, and gawked mutely as Trunks stood between him and the female.
"I won't let you kill him," he said desperately, bravely, and all for a man who would sooner call him imposter than son. The girl flared and hovered, her daggered eyes darting between the two Saiyans.
Piccolo held his breath. After a drawn out moment, she dimmed, her aura subsided, and she touched down softly on her feet. Everyone seemed to exhale at the same time.
Without the fury to guide her, she again looked lost…worried… She brought her hands up to her face and tried to hide behind them, peeking at the fighters timidly through her fingers.
Vegeta's eyebrow twitched. He was still visibly unnerved. "Forget about who she is. I want to know what she is!"
"Where did you come from?" Yamcha asked directly, his eyes wide and staring. "I mean, you just defeated Cell…and…"
She flicked a glance in his direction, but more out of distraction at his voice than comprehension of his words. For all her stature and physical maturity, she was acting like a…a...
You've got to be kidding me… Piccolo thought.
"Why isn't she answering us?" Tien asked discreetly.
Piccolo studied her demeanor. Yes. That has to be it. "She has no language," he said, and they all spun to look at him like he was crazy. He eyed them seriously and continued. "I think she is the result of a very carefully worded wish to Shenlong - with enough power to destroy Cell, and enough innocence not to abuse it."
"WHAT?" voiced his surrounding comrades, almost simultaneously.
"She was just born," he explained. "She has the mind of an infant." He almost felt guilty for that last bit, because they all swiveled their heads and blatantly gawked at her. She let out a whimper at the unwanted attention and plunked down in the dirt, curling into herself.
Hmm... Poor creature. She's just a baby. Then he remembered that she'd just killed Cell. He snorted. A baby with incredible capabilities, and one hell of an instinct to decipher right from wrong. He shuddered as a memory of her infuriated version flitted across his mind.
Angel of Death, indeed.
Yet still as as meek and afraid as a newborn. Without a mother or father to care for her. It struck a bitter cord in Piccolo somewhere, bringing back memories of a time when he was in a similar circumstance.
Someone will take you in, dragonspawn. I'll see to it.
Gohan coughed, and Piccolo jolted, and looked down as pain hindered the lad's awareness anew. "Gohan!" He wanted to kick himself for not flying out of there the moment she killed Cell, if only to get Gohan to Dende. "Hang in there," he managed as he stood to his feet. "We're leav-"
She was in his face, suddenly, her expression a grimace of empathy as she touched Gohan's sweat-drenched forehead with the tips of her fingers. Without asking, she took the boy from him, and before he could stop her, she'd leapt up into the sky, and vanished over the horizon so fast that he barely blinked three times before he couldn't see her anymore.
"She took Gohan!" Krillin shouted.
"NO!" Yamcha and Tien powered up to bolt after her.
"He'll be safe with her!" Piccolo cried out haltingly. "She's headed towards the Lookout."
They peeled their gaze off the darkened sky to gawk at him, as though wondering how the hell he knew so much. But Piccolo wasn't in the mood for explaining. He was much more inclined to see if all his suspicions were true. Summoning what was left of his ki, he jumped into the air and peeled through the sky in the direction she'd gone. He felt the others lift up a second later and follow him.
She'd taken Gohan from his arms, just like that. Knowing nothing more than that the boy was hurt. With such developed instincts, she might be less of a babe than he first assumed.
But no less deserving of a decent upbringing …
