The movie I quoted from last chapter was Legend; the line "black as midnight, black as pitch, [blacker than the foulest witch]" was said by one of the goblins. And if you haven't seen that movie, I suggest that you do.

And to the conversationalist, I did make use of your suggestion. Thank you.

Disclaimer: There are thirty-four other disclaimers in this story. Read one of them.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Goku could see no sign of the shadowed creature, and his bloodied face broke into a grin.

"Is it done?" Chiaotzu's tired, tremulous voice broke the heavy silence. It had taken more out of him to hold the creature from the other realm than any save Tien would ever know. It had been close.

"Yes," came Tien's reply. The triclops lowered his hands and sighed. "It seems almost too easy, doesn't it?"

"But it's gone."

"Right. And that worries me."

Chiaotzu peered at the downed Namek with the interest one would give a particularly gruesome accident. "I don't sense the creature's mind any more. There's no imprint there. Whatever happened to it, whatever you did, it won't be coming back." The pale man dropped to the ground and heaved a sigh.

Tien gratefully followed suit and dropped his chin into his waiting hands. "Good. I don't think we can handle anything else at the moment. What a nightmare."

From the edge of the Lookout Krillin moaned, and Kami peeked his head out from behind a pile of debris. He must have gotten out of the way during the battle, Goku thought. He presumed Chi-Chi had been set down near Krillin, and he watched Yamcha land near the origin of the sound. Yes, his wife must be there as well. Or else the human would not be so composed.

He hoisted himself up to his full height, and his breath hitched at the rough treatment. He chuckled in spite of himself; he didn't think there was a bone in his body the demon hadn't bruised or broken during their fight. But what a fight it had been! Heck, it was worthy of a few ballads! If the rest of the world had been watching with baited breath, the battle would have gone down in Earthling history. As it was, Kami would be scribing it all somewhere after they had recovered, as a reference for future Guardians.

Yamcha grinned and shot the Saiyan a thumbs-up when he caught his gaze.

Goku returned the gesture with his good hand and began walking quickly toward the small crater that held Piccolo. Gohan was crouched at its rim, an arm's length from the Namek – the distance a safeguard in case not all was right. The Namek's blood was still spattered across his face. Piccolo remained motionless, but whether or not it was reassuring the Saiyan was not certain. The oppressive atmosphere that had enshrouded the Lookout was gone, and with it the growling of the unnatural storm. When Goku glanced up at the distant clouds, he could see rain distorting the sky.

The reflection of the weakening lightning against the drops of water did little to rein in his imagination. His eyes danced across the Lookout, at the ruins of the once pristine sanctuary. Goku frowned, the relaxed stance he held belying his uneasiness. In his mind's eye, shadows darted along the walls where no people had cast them. Glowing eyes and dripping fangs hid in corners. And in the rubble long, spindly arms awaited his approach, to grab his ankles and pull him into a dark, yawning maw. Creatures yearning for blood crouched just out of his reach, around corners and under tables and in nooks and crannies too small for any human…

The wailing of the wind was interrupted by Gohan's voice, and Goku shook off the dreadful products of his imagination. "Piccolo?" the boy whispered, creeping closer to his mentor and friend. "Wake up, will you? We've gone through too much together just to lose each other now. Please, Piccolo? Say something! Anything!"

When the Namek did not respond, Gohan gave an almighty shriek and lunged forward, burying his face in the other warrior's tattered shirt.

Kami's head cleared the debris by another few feet as he clambered hastily to his feet.

Vegeta stirred in his own small crater, and the humans all turned their attention to the demi-Saiyan and his mentor.

"He's not dead!" Goku exclaimed softly.

"I know, dad," the boy sobbed. "But I can't feel him in here." He raised one shaking hand and briefly touched his first two fingers to his temple.

Goku watched his only son screw his face into a grimace and hated himself for not being able to aid him now.

Piccolo? Gohan tested his link with the Namek again, but there was still no response. It wasn't quite severed – he would be able to tell if it was – but he couldn't make the connection. Perhaps it was blocked, he thought, like the drain in the sink that one time dad tried doing dishes. And if it was, could he break through whatever seal was holding their bond closed? Piccolo!

The boy squeezed his eyes shut and tried forcing himself into the half-conscious state Piccolo had taught him was vital for proper meditation. I have to find him! he thought fiercely. He began tuning out all external distractions, sound by sound, ignoring his father's mumbled query and the distant growling of thunder. His mind was harder to calm, each whisper a scream in the silence and each hushed thought a cacophony. He slowly drove each voice from his mind, dimly feeling sweat dripping from his body with the effort of maintaining complete tranquility. Which, considering the circumstances, was an extraordinary feat. His concern over Piccolo roared through his head as loudly as the blood through his ears.

In the instant all grew still, Gohan plunged through the blocked pathway and shattered the demon's obstruction.

He found himself in the charred and smoldering ruins of a small clearing, surrounded by blackened and fallen trees, and he shuddered. "Where am I?" he thought out loud, and his voice echoed eerily in the dimly lit field. He could almost smell sulfur in the air, which was ridiculous only because he was inside his mentor's mind. Everything in here was his, and Piccolo's, own imagination.

Or was it?

Shredded bits of cloth floated through the air, some tinged purple, others a faded crimson. In the filtered light everything seemed to be a washed-out shade of red, and Gohan blamed it on the confusion and chaos that had likely torn through here a moment ago. He did not want to think of what it could mean otherwise…his mentor's mind shattered or subverted, or worse, erased completely. Now that he took the time to think about it, there was the chance he would get himself lost in this world, too. And he knew of the horrors the Namek kept inside. If something happened, Piccolo might not be able to come to his rescue.

"Piccolo?" Gohan called softly, taking care to glance around him for any sign of motion. When nothing showed itself, he tried again.

The reply came as a whisper, and Gohan had to strain his ears to hear it.

"What?" he shouted, wincing at the volume at which his voice carried.

"I told you to get out of here before, kid. Why didn't you listen to me?"

Piccolo materialized beside him, and Gohan jumped in surprise. "I…ah…well, I…that's a good question, Piccolo…" The boy scrambled for words, but though it usually annoyed the Namek, Piccolo said nothing about it.

The two warriors, master and pupil, were silent for a moment. "Then why are you still here?" the Namek pressed. "This is no place for a boy, even one of your strength."

Gohan regarded the other man calmly and fought down his rising anxiety. "You were a boy once, Piccolo."

"I never said I was not. That does not change things. It is not safe here for you."

"But you're here, Piccolo. You'll protect me. You always do."

"I won't always be around to save you, kid." The Namek favored the boy with his own thoughtful expression.

"Then why are you hanging around here?" When Piccolo frowned, he knew he had caught him. I thought so. "I can take care of myself right now, Piccolo," Gohan continued, giving the green man a wry smile. "You have a life to get back to."

The boy expected anything but the answer he received.

Piccolo abruptly whirled around and stalked away, and Gohan had to run to keep up with him. "To what point, Gohan?" the Namek hissed, not bothering to see if his former student was keeping up with him. "You know as well as I what that creature came for, and what it intended to do. Daimao will stop at nothing to achieve his goal. Do you honestly believe there will be nothing else sent to finish the job? There is no reason to jeopardize the few things on this pathetic planet that I still value. If I am no longer present, there will be no other attacks."

Gohan's eyes widened, and his shock was great enough that, when the taller man stopped as suddenly as he had taken off, he tripped over his own feet to avoid slamming into him. "You don't mean that!" he gasped. "You can't possibly mean to stay here, in your own mind!"

Piccolo turned slowly and locked his angry gaze on the boy. "Don't question me, brat. You don't know the workings of a demon's mind. If there is no tool, there is no harvest. The world will remain as it is. Better, perhaps, with one less demon acting upon it."

For an instant, Gohan thought he hadn't heard right. His mentor, giving up? He wouldn't allow it! "Piccolo, stop it!" he roared, shouting louder than he ever had before. He ignored the sudden astonishment on his mentor's face and the scowl on his own. "You're not the demon everyone thinks you are! You're not some horrid, destructive monster, or a bloodthirsty beast, or anything like that at all! You're my friend, and a good man, and someone who doesn't let anyone stop him!"

"I'm a demon, brat!" Piccolo snarled.

"You're a Namek! A Namek and a demon! Like I'm Saiyan and human! Piccolo, it's not one part that defines the whole! You don't have to give in to the part that wants to destroy itself…you can make yourself into whatever you want to be! And I don't think you want to be a bad guy any more. You're one of us, Piccolo, one of the good guys, and if something else happens we'll be there for you!" With that, Gohan collapsed and caught himself on his knees, and promptly burst into tears. "You're my friend, Piccolo," he whispered brokenly, "and I don't want you to leave."

Suddenly he was back in his own body, staring at the limp form of his mentor through glistening eyes, and he began sobbing again. All the rage he felt before was gone. Piccolo had pushed him away! He was going through with his plan after all, and he was leaving him alone, all alone!

He wasn't aware of Goku's comforting presence until he felt his father's hand on his shoulder. "Gohan," the soothing voice spoke, "are you all right?"

Goku was able to pull a few phrases from Gohan's semi-hysterical babble, and it translated into Piccolo not coming back. So the Saiyan knelt down beside Piccolo, heedless of the purple blood soaking into the knees of his pants, and gently placed two fingers against the side of his neck. He couldn't be dead, could he? After all he had survived – Frieza, the hybrid brothers, his own father and his chosen agents – he wasn't going to make it?

"Go away, Son," Piccolo spat, his voice raw and harsh from Shadow's inhuman shriek. He felt his cracked jaw protest the action. "I'm not dead yet."

Goku, the first Super Saiyan in over a thousand years and legendary in his own right, nearly jumped out of his skin. Yamcha and Tien leaped to their feet, half-expecting an exciting new development in the battle they had thought finished, but found themselves shaking their heads and settling back down when Goku broke out into laughter and fell back on his rear. "I should have known better than to think you'd die that easily, Piccolo," he said, his typical grin plastered across his face.

"Piccolo?" Gohan half-asked, half-breathed. "Are you – "

"You're too emotional for your own good, kid," the Namek said, shooting the boy a scowl he did not feel. Then his voice softened. "Thank you. But your logic…is a bit off. Though you're close enough…that the details don't matter." Piccolo ended his sentence with a hacking cough, and Gohan dropped his head to the Namek's shoulder for comfort.

"Piccolo, you're as bad as Vegeta," Goku said sternly. "Shut up already and save your strength."

Slowly, the Namek lifted one shaking hand and graced the Saiyan with a rather obscene hand gesture.

Goku chuckled. "You're in no condition to be doing that – "

"Which is precisely what I am going to remedy!" an enraged voice interrupted. "First he insults me, and then our race! Kakarot, this pathetic excuse for a warrior is mine!"

Goku jerked his head up, ignoring the pain in his stiff muscles from the sudden motion, and caught sight of Vegeta staggering towards them. "Vegeta, what are you thinking?" he demanded. "The fight is over! We've won!"

Vegeta paid him no heed, and Goku felt a small stab of fear. The Saiyan prince was hurt and bleeding, but he had more ki left to him than Goku did himself. If Vegeta decided to attack Piccolo, he would not be able to stop him. "I'll kill you, Namek!" the smaller Saiyan bellowed, curling his lips back and baring his teeth like an enraged animal. He balled his hands into fists, but he winced every time his breath hitched, with every stumble he took, with every pulse of his ki. Goku jumped to his feet and grimaced at the weight his broken shoulder supported.

"Vegeta, you idiot," Gohan yelled, "can't you see it's Piccolo now? Stay away from him!" He lifted himself to his feet as well and crouched protectively before Piccolo, which had the Namek mouthing a silent curse about being useless. Even with both Goku and Gohan standing in the way, Piccolo knew he was a dead man for certain. Neither Saiyan had the ki to face off against Vegeta for very long, and he was just about finished. He could barely move, between shattered bones and the wicked burn down the back of his body.

Is this how I am to die? he thought quietly.

Then, from behind the smug Saiyan, three separate kis flared to life, and Tien, Yamcha, and Chiaotzu all leaped to their feet. Vegeta barely registered their ki before they burst into action. Within seconds, the Saiyan was buried beneath a mass of human warriors, all of whom seemed intent on pummeling him into unconsciousness. Vegeta would never live this down.

Piccolo humphed, but Goku could see the gleam in his eyes. The downed Namek was enjoying this…not that he could blame him. But with Vegeta taken care of, as horribly amusing as it was, he needed to deal with Piccolo now. "Piccolo," he said quietly, "I told you once I'd be there if you needed me. Are you going to ask?"

The Namek made a noise that could have passed for a short laugh. "No…but I suppose it won't stop you from helping nonetheless." He heaved a sigh. "If you're offering, I will accept." At the overjoyed expressions that crossed both Goku's and Gohan's faces, he hastily added, "But only this time. And not in your house."

When Goku and Gohan both raised their eyes, Piccolo rolled his. Perfect, he thought. A bystander. Just what I needed. A shadow fell across his face in the soft flickering of ki, and he scowled. Then he swore softly when he tilted his head back and saw Kami's familiar form looming overhead. "What do you want?" he growled. "Haven't you done enough?"

The Guardian winced at the harshness of the younger Namek's voice, but he supposed he deserved it. He hadn't been terribly kind to him when they did run into each other, and he had not come to the boy in his short childhood. He could not blame Piccolo for whatever treatment he was about to receive. It was not his fault. "I wanted to tell you that I'm glad you are back."

The silence on the Lookout was deafening.

Kami continued. "And I want to apologize for not trusting you, and for not coming to you sooner."

"Do you think I care?" Piccolo hissed after a moment. "If I had wanted anything from you I would have forced it out by now."

The Guardian bit back a harsh rejoinder. "I know that, Piccolo. And I do not expect anything from you. I merely want to say that I am proud of you."

Goku could see Piccolo stiffen on the ground, and he was certain Gohan had noticed it as well. He didn't know what to make of this, and he wasn't even the one being addressed! Please, Piccolo, he pleaded silently, please, just this once swallow your pride and thank him, or something! He really does care, he just has problems admitting it. Like you, actually. Just don't turn him away this time! He crossed his mental fingers and awaited the response.

Piccolo swallowed hard and blinked a few times, clearly having trouble absorbing the sentiment. Goku could only imagine what the man must have been thinking, and honestly, he did not want to know. Finally the Namek shook his head. "Then it's only polite to say thank you, isn't it?" he replied gruffly.

Kami nodded once, before a shout at the side of the Lookout drew his attention. I guess that will have to do, Goku thought, tuning out Yajirobe's loud, belligerent racket at the Guardian's approach. Apparently Mr. Popo had been hiding somewhere below the Lookout and had decided to prematurely rescue the samurai. It could have been worse. When he caught the almost wistful expression on Piccolo's face, he was forced to rethink his opinion. "Piccolo, are you going to be okay?" he asked.

His voice started out distant, and Goku wanted to reach out for him. But he knew the risks of touching Piccolo, and having come this far without major mishap, he preferred to end this with all of his limbs more or less intact. "When has it mattered? It is the same as it has always been, and it will continue to be so. I'll live." Here the Namek's expression turned devious, and Goku could have sworn Piccolo was about to use Vegeta's famous smirk. "If two mutts, my sire, a mind-stealing demon, and your wife couldn't get rid of me, I doubt anything else will."

Much to his own surprise, Goku found himself wrapping his arms around the Namek, oblivious to his stained pants and Piccolo's injured body. True to self, Piccolo went rigid and hissed something in Namek – either an exclamation of pain or a startled curse, or both. I'll be paying for this later, I expect, the Saiyan thought. So I might as well get all my hugging done now. I'll never have this chance again. He was not surprised when Gohan joined in. "Good," he whispered.

Goku felt something warm trickling down his face, and he grinned. This time it was neither rain nor blood, and for the first time in weeks, he knew everything would turn out all right.

Sentimental idiot, Piccolo thought. Then he, too, found himself smiling, and he did not care that he was.

- - - - -

So how's that for a nice, happy ending? The only thing left now is the epilogue, and my chance to be a sentimental sap with an end note.

I have decided, after some deliberation, to write a sequel. I've already begun work on it, but posting won't start for a few weeks.

And last but not least…a shameless advertisement! If you're a Namek fan, go visit namekshrine.uni.cc (add in the http:). It belongs to Devon Aster, one of the best writers I know, and she's done a good job with the site. I'm not going to spoil the surprise by telling you what you'll find there, so check it out when you get the chance.

-Dreamwraith