A/N: SINCE I'm already re-writing the Cell saga... Thought I'd change one more thing...


Chapter 14

"But that doesn't mean I don't need you!" Gohan cried out before he could stop himself, feeling tears sting his eyes. They'd just wished back to life all of Cell's victims, and Dende said they could use Namek's dragon to bring back his father.

But Goku declined. Said that he had nothing left to teach Gohan. The youth felt like his dad had died all over again, to have been given hope only to lose it to the Saiyan's renowned altruism.

"You'll be fine, son," his dad urged gently, his voice falling over the Lookout like a blanket of mist. "I'm proud of you."

Gohan's throat constricted, and he bowed his head and clenched his fists, fighting an unprecedented urge to do something outrageous. Something so utterly wrong that his dad would have to come back. But alas, doing evil was too against Gohan's nature and the concept left him before it materialized into a horrid reality.

He felt Piccolo's hand on his shoulder, but couldn't look up. Taking a deep breath, he tried to be strong. They were all there, watching his reaction. Krillin, Yamcha, Tien…Trunks and Vegeta were standing further back. The android had taken off, but Dende was nearby, and Axle was seated on the steps with her elbows on her knees, and her shoulders hunched in the center. And that strange, beautiful girl who had destroyed Cell was seated awkwardly next to her, cowering behind the alien female's shoulder as though it could possibly hide her presence from them.

Be strong, Gohan, he told himself desperately. That's what dad expects of you… His voice caught before he could even speak. But how can he just leave me and mom like that?

"Hey, Piccolo…" Axle said, breaking his train of thought. Gohan felt the namekian's hand on his shoulder tighten involuntarily. Axle was looking at the green warrior through narrowed eyes. Things seemed awkward between them for whatever reason.

She jerked her chin at him. "Cover his ears for me, will ya?"

"…what?" Piccolo managed, his voice unsure.

She stood to her feet casually, but Gohan could see the knotted muscles in her shoulders. Something was agitating her. "Cover the kid's ears," she said again, more firmly. "I got something to say to his dad."

After a moment of strained silence, Gohan felt Piccolo's humungous hands clamp down on his ears, blocking out any sound. He tilted his head back and looked at his mentor, getting nothing more than a confused shrug in response.

Pursing her lips, Axle strode past them, glaring at the sky as though it were responsible for all the hurt in the world. What is she doing? Gohan wondered, momentarily distracted from his woes.

She moved in front of him, placing her fists firmly on her hips without taking her gaze off the heavens. Her jaw started to jump with speech. He couldn't make out her words, but he could see everyone's reactions to them.

And they weren't subtle.

After the first few seconds, Yamcha's eyes widened dramatically and Krillin's jaw just about hit the floor. Then Piccolo flinched as she began to wave her arms about in furious gestures, pacing rigidly - stopping mid rant to redouble her efforts and raise the decibel of her voice…

At which point, Trunks blushed, Tien paled, and even Vegeta unfolded his arms to gawk at her.

Instinctively, Gohan tried to dislodge himself from Piccolo's grasp, but the second his mentor felt him struggle, he frantically tightened his clamp on his ears, apparently in agreement with Axle that he didn't need to be hearing what she was saying.

The cadence of her words slowed down, still mainly indecipherable, but amidst the articulated tirade, Gohan was able to make out the words, 'Stupid', and 'Selfish', blended in with a handful of others that his mother would surely have washed his mouth out with soap for.

Then, after what seemed to be minutes of this, Axle stopped, crossed her arms against her chest, and tapped her foot impatiently.

He heard his father's voice then, though it was muffled through Piccolo's hands. It stammered, fluctuated in a hesitant tone, like it did when mom busted him for something.

Apparently satisfied, Axle turned around, gave a curt nod to Piccolo, who finally peeled his hands off Gohan's reddened ears.

"What happened?" he asked anxiously, as he spun around to face his mentor. "What did she say?"

Piccolo's eyes were still saucer-wide as they followed Axle as she walked back to the steps, plopping down. Then he blinked and looked down at Gohan. "She, uh…" he closed his mouth, and then opened it again in a bewildered chuckle. "Let's just say that your dad is coming back."


.

Axle tucked the blanket around the sleeping girl, and watched as Dende painstakingly brushed the white wisps away from her ethereal face. The dragon's creation was sleeping as soundlessly as a babe. She'd even whimpered and fussed before Axle made the connection that the savior of the planet, the destroyer of Cell…

…might need something as simple as a nap.

"She wouldn't eat the food I prepared earlier," Mr. Popo said, wringing his hands with worry behind them. "I tried to make it appetizing-"

"Eating might not be how she gets her energy," Axle said quietly. "She did guzzle all that water down, like the namekians, and sat on the palace steps for more than an hour, absorbing the sun this morning… It's like her instincts come with a survival mechanism along with seeking out and destroying evil."

"Hmmm…" Mr. Popo sighed heavily. She could almost see the mantle of sudden, unexpected parenthood around his neck. "I just wish we knew more about her."

"Pity she didn't come with an instruction booklet," Axle commented wryly. "I doubt there's ever existed anything like the girl before."

Dende leaned back, the events of last night still creasing his too-young face. "How sad. To be the only one of her kind…"

"It doesn't have to be sad," came Piccolo's gruff voice as he materialized in the doorway. Axle jumped at his sudden appearance and silently wondered how long he had been standing there. "Not if she has people to nurture her."

"Hmmm…" Was it her imagination or was Piccolo taking an invested interest in the girl? He was projecting his usual bored aggravation, but his eyes softened every time they landed on her sleeping form. "You volunteering for the job?" she asked, more honest than snide.

His eyes widened and then narrowed at her. Things were still unbearably strained between them. And then there was the whole situation with Nail… She sighed.

He went from offended to pensive. "She should stay here. At the Lookout," he said. "She wouldn't fit in anywhere else."

"I want to keep her," Dende said, as though she were a stray animal he'd rescued. "She needs us."

Us… Axle noticed that no one objected to the little guardian's use of the inclusive term. Specifically Piccolo.

"She's going to be a colossal responsibility," Axle said. "A full time job, on top of being God, and God's assistant, and…" she looked at Piccolo, "and full time…whatever it is you do."

Piccolo snorted, while the other two nodded in grim acceptance.

Dende grabbed her hand then, and peered up at her with his circular, sweet eyes. "Aren't you going to stay, Axle?" he asked, and she winced at the pang in her heart. He'd grown attached to her in the short time she'd been there, and she couldn't help but think the automatic bond between them had something to do with the common denominator - Nail. As though her presence here made Dende less homesick for Namek, and his long lost sibling.

She looked at Piccolo who averted his eyes. A rush of guilt resurfaced for what she'd done to him the night before, and she wondered if he'd ever be comfortable around her again. "I don't know yet, scrub. Piccolo and I need to talk."

The green warrior flinched at her straight out comment and then glared at her as though she had no place making any requests of him at all.

Axle would have just left him be, had the most vital key to her happiness not been locked inside his soul. There was an edgy silence between them. You have access to someone I need, Piccolo. I can't just walk away.

Mr. Popo broke the quiet with a very practical observation. "She needs a name."

Axle sat back, and they all looked at each other stupidly, as though responsibility could be by shuffled off by eye contact, alone. She shrugged. "Why not call her what she is?" she suggested helpfully. "Justice."

"Justice?" Piccolo repeated, his voice lacking its usual bite.

Axle snorted. "Well, she sure as hell ain't Mercy."

"She did spare Vegeta," Dende reasoned.

"That's because Vegeta is salvageable," she said.

"Justice," Mr. Popo tried out the name, and then nodded. "It fits."

"Then it's settled," Axle said as she rose to her feet and ushered them all out. "For now, let's give her some quiet. She saved the world last night, remember?"


.

Later that day, after a failed attempt to sleep, Axle managed to muster up enough courage to approach Piccolo at the edge of the Lookout. He'd been standing there for some time, rigid and twitchy, as though forcing himself to stay grounded when all he really wanted to do was to jump off and get the hell away from her.

As she looked at his broad, tall form, silhouetted gold against the hues of the setting sun, Axle hoped he'd had enough time to work whatever it was, out with himself, so that they could discuss…Nail

A tickle ran down her spine at the thought of the alpha son. The concept of being with him again almost made her giddy. Piccolo might make things difficult, but as she said earlier, it was still a lesser obstacle than turning an entire species against each other. Taking a deep breath, she strode up and stood beside him. His eyes were tightly shut, and his jaw muscles were jumping. As a matter of fact, he seemed anything but relaxed.

"Piccolo…"

He had to have heard her coming, but he still flinched when she said his name. Egads. Do I make you that nervous, boy? Then she realized that she was fidgeting, and shifting weight from one leg to the other. Well, it's mutual, believe me…

He didn't look up, but his eyes opened to slivers and he stared at some random point in the horizon, acknowledging her with silence. It suddenly occurred to her that her nearness might still trigger his insanity, and she forced herself to stay put.

"Am I safe around you?"

His brow drew tight in the center. "For now."

She paused, mulling it over. Well, at least he didn't say 'No'. "Listen," she began awkwardly. "I'm sorry about…what happened-"

"Forget about it."

Hmm… Right… Another silence passed between them, and it stretched unbearably until she couldn't take it any longer. Sighing audibly, she turned outright to face him. "Look. I'd walk away from you right now if I could, but I'm too damn invested. I want him, Piccolo. I…I need him."

The aggravation in his face shifted to something else, and he clenched his eyes closed. "You can't have him," he hissed in a strained whisper.

She couldn't believe how stubborn he was being. "Cell is defeated. You don't have to save the world tomorrow," she huffed. "I'm not asking for time with him every day."

He finally faced her, the hard edge gone from his visage. He almost looked…sympathetic? Imagine that, she thought elatedly. I'm getting somewhere.

"Just enough to make it fair to all of us," she finished.

"Axle-"

"Once a week-"

"Axle-"

"Or even once a month, as long as I can be with him-"

"AXLE!" he cried and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her. She stiffened and stared in alarm at his pained expression. "He's gone!"

She frowned, hearing but not comprehending. "But you can let him surface-"

"I can't! I've been trying to all afternoon, and he's…not there anymore."

Her heart started slamming the breath from her lungs and a cold, skeletal hand gripped at her esophagus. But despite her physiological reactions to his words, the denial still trickled off her lips. "He has to be…"

Piccolo straightened, his grip on her shoulders softening. His brow lifted in pained apology.

"Something happened," he said. "When you came on to me last night. I…Nail…he was attacking me, and I…" He exhaled and released her then, turning his back to her. "I don't know what I did, but he's gone, Axle. I'm…sorry."


.

Piccolo grimaced at the pain in his chest in the following silence. He could hear her breathing, and he could hear it stop. After a drawn out moment of frozen silence a small wail sounded from behind him, and he heard her slump to the ground. He instinctively spun around, only to see her glossed eyes darting about in a blitzed fashion, fixing on nothing and everything, the tears rolling down her cheeks in rivulets.

He didn't know she could look so vulnerable. Ignoring the dull ache in his gut, he knelt down beside her and touched her arm. Her eyes abruptly came into focus when she noticed him, and a sob escaped her lips. He brought his other hand up and she hissed and inched away from him, staring at his face with more emotions than he could identify. "I can't…look at you…" she choked. Then, before he could stop her, she lunged off the edge of the Lookout.

"Axle!"

He hovered nervously at the drop, waiting for her to fire up her ki, and fly. To his immense relief, she did, and pulled out of the death plunge. It ruled out the possibility of a suicide drop. But still, he wanted to go after her, because mixed in with his acute sense of guilt for what he'd done to Nail, were all those borrowed memories that made him think he couldn't possibly live without her.

He placed a weary hand over his eyes and tilted his head back to the sky. You might go crazy yet, Piccolo.

His unspoken thought reminded him unexpectedly of the one personality that had managed to stay quiet during the past 24 hours of utter turmoil. The one wise enough to know to remain silent.

Kami…

In a act of desperation, Piccolo called out to the old guardian, trying to give him a thought to adhere to…something that would collect his scattered awareness.

Kami. Pull yourself together, old man. I… he swallowed his pride. I need your help.

He felt the stirrings within him immediately - a dim, but struggling identity in the back of his mind.

Come on, he urged mentally. Nail did it. You can do it.

He held his breath as the persona grew stronger, more distinct. He finally exhaled when it acquired voice.

Piccolo… came the all-too-familiar, paternal tone. Then Piccolo winced as he felt Kami probe at his memories, invading his thoughts. His gut reaction was to resist it, but the old guardian needed to know what he'd been through since Axle arrived, and he didn't feel like explaining it.

After several moments, he could feel Kami's shock. You've had a rough few days, my son…

Piccolo snorted derisively, choosing not to comment on the endearing title. Hmph. No shit.

Unbelievable. The dragon wish, Kami related in unfiltered awe. I didn't think it could be done

That's not why I called you, Piccolo cut him off abruptly. It's about Nail…

A pause, and then a sympathetic, Ah, yes…

Can you sense him? At all?

Pause. No.

Piccolo felt his stomach drop out. I killed him, didn't I? Piccolo swallowed and was glad to be communicating telepathically so he wouldn't have to force sound through such a constricted throat. Wiped him from existence…

He felt Kami probe his mind again. No…

Piccolo perked. What do you mean, 'No'?

I doubt that even you would be capable of unmaking his spirit, boy.

But I felt him cease to exist…

As a separate entity, Piccolo. You were fused before. Now, I can only assume you are blended.

"WHAT?" He couldn't stop the word from being said out loud.

He was a part of you, and now he IS you, swallowed up and consumed by your dominant personality.

Piccolo blinked. It made sense. But it didn't solve his problem. Axle doesn't want me. She wants him.

Then split.

Piccolo growled. Shut up. I'm in no mood for your wry humor.

An exasperated sigh. I'm not joking.

His words caused a flame of hope to flicker in the midst of his despair, but Piccolo continued to argue out of reflex. Fused namekians can't separate!

You weren't listening. I said you're no longer fused with Nail. You're one entity. And one entity can split, as evidenced by how the Demon King and I came into existence.

He was making sense. Good hell, the old fool was making sense, but… It's not the same circumstance.

True. Katatsu's son purged himself of evil.

Piccolo felt his lips curl up in a self-deprecating smirk. If I purged myself of evil, then I just might cease to exist.

You're too hard on yourself. You've come a long way, lad.

He frowned in consternation. Do you know how it's done?

No. Many of Katatsu's son's memories didn't survive the transfer. But that's the one thing of Nail you still have. His recollections. His life story. I'd say it's a good start. A practical point to focus on.

You really think it might work?

There was a pause, and then a quiet, less confident voice fell on his inner ear. I don't know. This is theory. Even if it did work, there could very likely be side effects you won't be willing to deal with.

Piccolo felt the hope dim. What the hell was he thinking? It would be smartest to just go on with life, and leave Axle to her own destiny down below. Why risk something as huge as a split just so a petty romance could continue?

It's not petty, came the memory of Nail's words in answer to his question. Piccolo grimaced and hung his head in indecision. It was too much to ask. Besides, it probably wouldn't take much to persuade Axle into taking him in Nail's place, anyways.

But could he live with himself if he did that?

Piccolo shuddered. No.

Then continue with life as though she wasn't stranded down there, hurting…

Un-uh.

Split?

Hmph. I'm not that self-sacrificing.

In response, three words rang out before Kami's presence faded back to oblivion, echoing in his mind like an avalanche in a canyon.

You're wrong, Piccolo…