Piccolo glanced up, not moving from his meditative position over the stream. He grimaced when he saw her, standing with her shoulders squared and her chest heaving from the exertion of running all the way there. Chi-Chi looked different. The most glaring change was all the bulk she'd put on over the past eight months, made obvious by torn sleeves which exposed her muscles. The second big difference was the array of pink and silver scars scattered across her skin, some deeper and more permanent than others, but each one representing a different challenge or opponent she'd overcome. Her hair, also, had grown considerably, tied back in a sloppy, wild knot atop her head.

But for all her physical differences, the look in Chi-Chi's eyes was the same.

"You mean to take your son back," Piccolo said.

"Where is he?" demanded Chi-Chi.

If she'd had expectations of fighting him for information, Piccolo gladly subverted them. He jerked his thumb behind him, to the northwest. "He's asleep at our camp atop a plateau about ten miles in that direction," said Piccolo. "And to answer your next question, no, I didn't do anything unspeakable to him, and he's perfectly alive and healthy. Maybe a little bruised, but that's to be expected, given the intensity of our training."

Chi-Chi regarded him skeptically, pacing in a semicircle around Piccolo with her hand never leaving the hilt of her sword.

Her next words didn't surprise Piccolo one bit. "I'm taking him back."

Piccolo sighed, and floated away from the stream and into a standing position a short distance from Chi-Chi. He assumed his usual stance, eyes fixed on his opponent. "I'm aware," was all he said.

Chi-Chi's brow lowered into a glare, and she drew her sword. "So be it, green man," Chi-Chi spat, before leaping into battle.

Gohan jerked upright, awoken by a painful buzzing at the base of his spine, where it connected to his skull. His hair stood on end, and he looked around - frightened and confused - before realizing what it was, and where it was coming from.

He picked himself up and wandered to the edge of the plateau, around the embers of his and Piccolo's fire. In the distance, he could have sworn he saw two figures doing battle. He could certainly feel it - their ki flared, flashed, and swelled with every move either of them made, so powerful and pungent that it rattled Gohan's bones. Gohan could recognize Piccolo's energy well enough, but the other one was new.

Gohan frowned, finding Piccolo's opponent familiar somehow. Someone had been approaching for weeks now - maybe even months - and every now and then their ki grew distinct enough for Gohan to feel it in the distance. It felt like it was them that Piccolo was fighting. But there was something else…

Gohan settled into a sitting position, resting his head in his hands as he watched the tiny dots do battle miles away. Piccolo's opponent didn't seem evil, not like Raditz had, so he had to wonder why they were fighting in the first place.

The battle went on for a few more minutes, and the restlessness and curiosity finally got to Gohan.

"I gotta see this for myself," he said, before hopping off the plateau towards the battle.

Their battle had reached something of a stalemate - though Piccolo had more brute strength and speed than Chi-Chi, he didn't have quite the eye for exploitable openings and pattern recognition. He might have been quick enough to land a blow, and strong enough that it mattered, but Chi-Chi had a knack for turning his momentum against him.

They stood on opposite sides of the stream, each with heaving chests and blood oozing down their faces from their noses and mouths. Chi-Chi spat into the grass, her saliva thick with red, and Piccolo opted to just wipe his face with his wrist.

"You're good," he said grudgingly.

"Save it," Chi-Chi snapped. "You're the last person I want to hear it from."

Her words brought with them a pang of guilt that took Piccolo utterly by surprise. The bitterness in her voice seemed to make something click in Piccolo's mind, a realization that almost everything bad that had happened to Chi-Chi in her life was a direct consequence of his actions. He'd been aware of that consciously, of course, but it wasn't until he stood face-to-face with Chi-Chi that he felt it in his bones.

Which irritated Piccolo to no end. Why should I care? Everything I did had to be done anyway, he told himself.

Piccolo's contemplation left him vulnerable for a moment too long, and Chi-Chi capitalized on the opening.

She kicked off and hurtled through the air at Piccolo, swinging her sword wildly.

Piccolo was caught off guard, but still dodged each slash - except for a shallow cut across the cheek. When he raised his arms to counter-attack, Chi-Chi dropped low and thrust her palm out towards his stomach, letting loose a blast of energy that hit her adversary dead-on and sent him flying.

Piccolo smacked into a rock formation with enough force to crumble it, and was buried by the rubble.

Chi-Chi didn't let her guard down, still able to feel his energy.

Sure enough, Piccolo exploded out of the rubble and shot straight upwards into the air. He touched down, still clutching his abdomen where Chi-Chi had hit him, breathing staggered.

"Again, you're better than I anticipated," Piccolo grunted. He gave a low chuckle. "Then again, I've got a feeling I might be a bit more than you bargained for as well."

Chi-Chi took on a firmer stance, her eyes never wavering from Piccolo, and her focus never drifting from his energy. She'd seen him fight at the World Martial Arts Tournament, and knew for a fact that he had a million tricks up his sleeve. Everything from extending limbs, to doubles, to just growing a hundred times his usual size - nothing could be ruled out.

But all he did was shrug off his cloak and his turban, the garments falling to the ground and kicking up little clouds of dust on impact.

Weighted clothes, Chi-Chi realized. Great.

Before the fight could continue in earnest, though, Piccolo's gaze snapped up towards the sky - looking first shocked, then furious. "What are you doing here? Go back to the camp!" barked Piccolo.

Chi-Chi followed his gaze and her heart stopped.

Floating fifty feet in the air, looking like a deer in headlights, was Gohan. Chi-Chi couldn't move - she hadn't even realized he was there, she was so focused on Piccolo.

"Gohan," Chi-Chi breathed, and her sword slipped out of her hands. "Gohan!"

"Mom!" cried Gohan, floating down to the ground and running at Chi-Chi with his arms open and his grin wide.

Piccolo all but forgotten, Chi-Chi made a beeline for her son. She scooped him up in her arms and hugged him as tight as she could, a grip that would have shattered anyone else, but Gohan had grown much stronger since she'd seen him last and endured it with a laugh. He even managed to free his own arms so he could wrap them around Chi-Chi's neck. "I missed you, Mom," he said into her shoulder. "When'd you get so strong? I didn't think anyone could stand up to Mr. Piccolo for so long."

The mention of Piccolo brought Chi-Chi back to the present. Holding Gohan under her arm like a sack of flour, she turned and met Piccolo's eyes. He was hanging back by the rubble pile, arms folded over his chest and expression neutral - well, maybe a bit peeved.

"I'm leaving, and I'm taking Gohan with me," Chi-Chi said firmly. She walked back to her sword and picked it up, brandishing it at Piccolo even as he made no move to stop her. "I'd suggest you stay out of my way."

"Mom?"

Piccolo humphed, not breaking eye contact with Chi-Chi. "I can't allow you to do that," Piccolo said. "Don't you get it? The Saiyans could be here any day now, we need as many allies as we can muster if we don't want the Earth destroyed."

"Not my son," Chi-Chi snapped.

"Mom?"

"Your son is one of the strongest people alive right now," Piccolo retorted.

"He's five!"

"Mom?"

"And he'll be dead if we aren't prepared for the Saiyans!"

"That's not his responsibility, he's a child."

"Mom?"

"It isn't a question of responsibility, it's a question of necessity-"

"All that's necessary for Gohan is that he grows up into a competent and kind young man."

"Mom?"

"Are you crazy? If we lose to the Saiyans, he's never going to get a chance to-"

"HEY!"

Gohan wiggled out of Chi-Chi's grip and put himself between the two of them, his arms up as if he could hold them back should they come to blows. He shifted his gaze between his mother and his master, his mouth a thin line, making sure he had their attention. "I think we can talk about this in a more civilized manner," Gohan said at length.

Chi-Chi huffed at the word 'civilized', and Piccolo openly scowled, but Gohan didn't let it deter him. "What I'm saying is that it's late, you two must both be exhausted from your fight, and there's no real reason to be violent about this," Gohan explained. "After all, we are all on the same side, right?" His gaze shifted between the two of them again. "R-right?"

It was Piccolo who conceded first. "Yes, we are," he grunted.

Chi-Chi folded her arms over her chest and huffed. "I'll allow it. For now," she said.

Gohan physically relaxed and his face broke out into a smile again. "Great! Come on, let's head back to our camp and get some rest," he said.

Piccolo grunted something and picked his weighted clothing up, pulling the garments back on before jumping into the air and flying northwards.

"Can you fly, Mom?" Gohan asked, himself floating upwards.

"Somewhat," Chi-Chi said, lifting off the ground. "I'll admit, it takes a lot out of me still."

Gohan beamed. "That's okay! If you start to fall, I'll be sure to catch you. It looks like that fight with Mr. Piccolo did a number on both of you," Gohan said.

Chi-Chi could have wept. Eight months - eight months spent alone in a wasteland with King Piccolo, and Gohan was still the sweetest, most genuine little kid in the world. And more importantly, he was alive and thriving. Although, there was still the question of his mental development - it had been a while since he'd studied properly, that was certain.

Chi-Chi only made it halfway to the plateau in question before she faltered. Gohan made good on his word, swooping down underneath her to stop her from plummeting. "We're almost there," Gohan said, picking up his speed now that he was carrying Chi-Chi, instead of flying alongside her. "Hold on, Mom."

"I'm fine, Gohan," Chi-Chi insisted, letting out her high, jingling laugh, before promptly blacking out from exhaustion.

It was still dark out when Chi-Chi awoke, though it didn't look like it would be that way for long. She sat up, somewhat disoriented, surveying her surroundings. A few paces away, ash and embers were encircled by hefty stones, a pile of firewood not too much further away. She looked down, seeing Gohan snuggled up by her leg, snoring lightly.

The sight of him made her heart lurch, and with it, memories of the night before.

Piccolo.

She turned her head and saw him meditating off the edge of the plateau, his back to her.

"You're awake," he said.

"Good catch," Chi-Chi said, her voice dripping insincerity. She turned back to Gohan, her hand finding its way to his head, where she ran her fingers through his hair absently. It looked like he'd been cleaning his scalp regularly, though he still desperately needed a haircut. Come to think of it, so did Chi-Chi. Eight months in the wilderness will do that.

A faint shadow fell over the two of them, and Chi-Chi looked up to see Piccolo.

She opened her mouth to bark at him to mind his own business, but the look in his eye made her hold her tongue. He looked somber, almost sad. Almost.

Finally, Piccolo heaved a sigh and got to the point. "I can't tell you how much I wish I could just send the two of you on your way and be done with it," he said. "Believe me, I want nothing more than for this Saiyan menace to turn out to be a load of it. But the fact is…"

"I get it," Chi-Chi said. She shook her head. "I know why you think you need his help - I've felt his power growing for almost my entire journey here. But you have to understand: he's a child. He's my baby. I can't stand by and risk sending him to his death when there are plenty of other fighters to rise to the occasion."

Piccolo snorted. "What, like Yamcha?"

Chi-Chi glared at him. "Quit trying to twist my words around, you know what I mean. People like Krillin, or Tenshinhan. Maybe even Master Roshi," she said. "Anyone but my little Gohan."

They fell into silence, with Chi-Chi absently toying with Gohan's hair, and Piccolo taking a seat on the opposite side of the fire. She was just about to forget his presence when he spoke up again.

"I'm terrified for him," he said.

Chi-Chi cocked a brow at him, expecting a 'but' or a 'gotcha', but none came. Piccolo's gaze was fixed on Gohan, and he looked sick. He looked scared.

"I don't like to admit it, but - but he's grown on me," Piccolo went on. "I've never cared for anyone, let alone have anyone concerned for my sake, but I've grown attached to him over these months. Maybe too much for my own good. I'm not sure what I'd do if he were to…" Piccolo clamped his jaw, unable to make his fear known. He didn't have to, though - Chi-Chi's mind filled in the blanks and it made her shudder. "Whatever."

"So why make him fight?" asked Chi-Chi, unable to keep the pleading note out of her voice. "If you care about him like you claim, why force him into harm's way?"

"I'm not making him fight, or forcing him into anything. That - that might have been my plan at first, but things have changed," Piccolo said. "Look, the Saiyans are coming whether we're ready or not, and when they get here, they aren't taking prisoners. Raditz was Goku and Gohan's flesh and blood, and even he was willing to kill them both just to make a demonstration. When the others get here, I have no doubt they'll be just as ruthless - and even if they kill everyone else on the planet, Gohan deserves a fighting chance."

Gohan turned in his sleep, burying his face in Chi-Chi's pantleg, breathing deeply and smiling. It warmed Chi-Chi's heart to see him so at ease, so calm and so safe.

Unbidden, images of his blood splattered across the grass flashed in her mind, and she swallowed hard.

"Tell you what, Piccolo," Chi-Chi said softly, her gaze not once leaving her son, "I think we can come to an agreement here."

Chi-Chi's eyes flickered up to Piccolo. Their gazes met, and understanding blossomed between them. Piccolo nodded, his mouth a grim line yet his expression still hopeful somehow.

"I'm listening," he said.