"You are an idiot," Vegeta ground out angrily.
"How was that my fault?" Piccolo retorted.
"Your stupid cannon almost bore a hole completely through this armor!"
"You told me to give it all I had. Well guess what, Your Highness? That's what I did!"
"I didn't know it did it that strong!"
"I'll ask again: how is that my fault?"
"You could have warned me! It wasn't that strong last time we trained together!"
"I train Gohan every day. I've had to work hard to keep up with him. Of course I got stronger! You think Amat is going to give you a warning about how strong his army is going to be?"
It was only day three of the two training together, and it had not been going well. Gohan had always been the mediator between the two when they trained, and even with him there, it was usually Vegeta and Gohan doing the sparring while Piccolo mentored Gohan from the sidelines. While he was technically the weakest of the three, he more than made up for it in his superior strategizing and techniques. And that annoyed Vegeta to the point that he would refuse to spar with him for longer than a half hour.
But now, Vegeta had no choice, and he was growing more and more pissed as Piccolo continued to surprise him. And so, instead of answering Piccolo, he threw his hands in the air with a huff and began to stalk out of the gravity room.
"Seriously? You're just going to walk away? Really mature, oh great prince. A lot of help you'll be when the time comes," Piccolo seethed. "I don't need this. Good luck training on your own. You had better be prepared."
As Piccolo turned his back, Vegeta threw a huge blast at his head. He whipped around just in time to knock it off its path.
"Are you insane?" he snapped at the Saiyan.
"Fuck you!" Vegeta snarled in response. "This is a suicide mission and you know it! This is your fault! You should've just let the brat die! None of this would be happening! It'd be over with. We'd all have moved on!"
"You think that by killing Gohan, everything would've ended? That Amat would've just stopped and left us alone? Are you that delusional?" Piccolo shouted at him.
"He only wants the boy dead! He keeps unleashing these monsters to only kill him! He doesn't care about you and me! We're merely collateral damage! Krillin was just a casualty! And on top of all that, you cursed him to an eternal childhood! You're selfish, Namekian! You're keeping him around because you don't want to be alone!"
Piccolo was lost for words, and for a moment, he felt like he couldn't breathe. Silence rang between the two loud as thunder. And then, a seemingly startled look came over Vegeta's face as he processed what he had said.
Finally able to take a breath, Piccolo wasted no time in sending a powerful blast straight at the Saiyan. Vegeta caught it in his hands, singing his gloves, before retaliating with his own blast. Piccolo made it rebound with another blast of his own, and then rushed the Saiyan, punching his hard across the mouth. Vegeta kicked him in the gut, knocking him away. Piccolo threw another blast.
"If you wanted him dead so much, why help me save him when he wanted to kill himself?" Piccolo shouted angrily.
Vegeta threw a retaliating blast. "It was a mistake! One I don't intend to make again!" he shouted back.
"So what? You'll just stand by and let Amat kill him? He's your ally! He's your friend! He only wants your approval and understanding, and you rebuke him time and again!"
"A lot of good he's done for his friends. He killed Krillin and he's nearly had you and I killed numerous times!" Vegeta spat.
"IT WASN'T HIS FAULT!" Piccolo roared. "You want to blame someone for Krillin's death, blame me. Blame Tsuki. Blame Amat. But don't you dare continue to blame that boy. It tears him apart, knowing he killed his friend. And you won't let him live it down! It. Was. Not. His. Fault!"
Suddenly, the door to the gravity room opened. "What the hell is going on in here?" Bulma nearly shrieked. She glanced at the two warriors, battered and bloody from one another's attacks. "That is enough! No more! You two calm down right this minute. Piccolo, go stand over there! Vegeta, I mean it! Knock it off!" She moved to stand between the two. "One of you tell me this instant what the hell is happening." Silence. "NOW!" Again, silence. "Fine, you two muscle heads don't want to own up to it, that's fine. I'll just watch what happened myself!" she snapped, going to the controls. She tapped a few buttons and the intercom screen lit up. She tapped another button, and suddenly the incident was replaying on the screen, the audio playing loudly throughout the room.
"Have you been spying on me?" Vegeta asked angrily.
"Shut up," Bulma practically snarled at him as she took in the video and the harsh words. It was silent in the room except for the audio replaying every despicable word the two warriors had thrown at each other. When it finished, Bulma said nothing at first, just sighed. And then, she broke down into tears. Piccolo and Vegeta were immediately taken aback and glanced uneasily at each other.
For what seemed an eternity, it was quiet except for Bulma's sobs. After a few minutes, she composed herself.
"I am so glad Gohan isn't here right now," she said shakily. "You two... you can't... oh my god. Vegeta, do you really wish Gohan was dead?" When he opened his mouth, she held up a hand. "No, no excuses. I want the truth, and I want it now. Do you wish Gohan had died?"
He sighed. "Sometimes," he admitted.
For a moment, Bulma looked like she was about to cry again, but she pulled herself together. "Vegeta... he's just a little kid..."
"He caused all of this," Vegeta muttered darkly.
Piccolo made an angry noise in the back of his throat, ready to snap at the Saiyan, but Bulma held up her hand at him.
"No, let him get this out. It needs to be out in the open, so we can properly address it," she said sternly. "Continue."
"There's nothing more to say," he evaded.
"Yes, there is. Clearly you have something you want to say. Say it now. Get it over with. You're not leaving this room until you do," Bulma pressed.
"This is going to be a suicide mission, don't you understand, woman?" Vegeta exploded finally. "Because of this boy, we're all going to die. Because the Namekian won't just let him go! Don't you care that your son is going to die because of that brat? Don't you get that? That god wants him dead and he'll kill everyone to ensure it will happen. Everyone. Him, me, you, your five year old son."
"He's your son too," Bulma whispered.
"I'm aware!" Vegeta snapped. "And because of the Namekian's selfishness, he's going to die, along with everyone else."
Piccolo then felt an odd sensation he hadn't felt since Gohan had nearly died of the heart virus. A prickling, burning sensation behind his eyes. And he realized with a start that they were tears. He blinked rapidly, refusing to let them fall. Selfish. He let the word wash over him. Gohan had wanted to die, and he hadn't let him. He'd refused. And then he damned him to eternal youth. He'd struggled with that thought for years, had just confessed it to Bulma two days ago, and yet that term hadn't ever crossed his mind. He was selfish.
Bulma's hand on his shoulder pulled him back to reality.
"Listen, Vegeta. I don't understand really how all this is going on with the goddess or whatever, but Piccolo didn't have a choice. He's not selfish to keep Gohan alive. If the goddess truly believed it was in everyone's best interest that Gohan was dead, she wouldn't have allowed him to live. I don't know much, but that I do know. He's doing what any good parent would: he's protecting him. Just like you protect your son," Bulma said firmly.
Vegeta grunted and looked like he was about to say something more, but Piccolo beat him to the punch.
"Would you kill your son? Or let someone kill him, if you believed it was truly for the best? Could you do that?" Piccolo pressed.
Bulma gasped. "No, don't answer that! Let me leave first," she pleaded, fully expecting the worst. She hurried for the door, tears in her eyes.
"No," Vegeta said quietly. Bulma stopped in her tracks, turning slowly to look at him. "No, I wouldn't kill him. Or let him die."
"Then you see where I stand," Piccolo said.
Again, silence filled the room for several long, uncomfortable moments. Piccolo moved to grab his cape and turban, pulling them on hastily, and then heading for the exit.
"Wait, Piccolo, don't go," Bulma pleaded. "Please, don't go. You can't leave like this."
Piccolo let out a low growl. "And why not?" he snapped.
"You can't leave angry at one another. Because I know you won't come back. And that's not going to help Gohan, and you know it," Bulma said sternly. "Look, why don't we go inside? You and Vegeta can get showered, and then we'll sit in the living room and strategize. We'll put the training behind us for the day, and come up with a concrete plan to move forward with. How does that sound?"
Vegeta snorted. "What's this we business? You don't know the first thing about battle strategies."
"Oh, I'll just be there as a mediator. Last thing I need is you two fighting in the house. Now, does that sound agreeable? Can you two manage that?" Bulma asked sarcastically. The two warriors glanced at one another, finally nodding. "Good. Alright, let's go. Inside."
She opened the door, and gestured for the two to go before her. Vegeta harrumphed and walked out, practically storming into the house. Piccolo followed in a more dignified manner, and Bulma fell in step with him. She placed her hand on his arm comfortingly and he stiffened instinctively at the contact. She took her hand off immediately.
"You really don't like to be touched, do you?" she asked.
"Not at all."
She smirked slyly at him. "Unless it's the goddess?"
"Don't like to be touched by her, either," he said blandly. "Who told you about that? You have met her once, if I recall correctly."
"Oh, Krillin and Vegeta were joking about it a long time ago."
"I'm a Namekian. I don't know that kind of love," he said dryly.
"I know, I know. Just trying to lighten the mood. I guess I should've said only Gohan, hm?"
"Yes," Piccolo responded instantly. They stopped at the door and Bulma put her hand on his arm again, halting him.
"Piccolo, I know Vegeta comes off as cold but... he does care about Gohan, you know. He worries about him, even if he doesn't show it. He wouldn't have fought with him, for him. He wouldn't have tried to protect him. His actions... they speak louder than his words, even if his voice has that somehow amplifying quality that makes it impossible to drone him out..."
"He still has a funny way of showing it."
"Well, yeah, but... well, Piccolo... you can't tell me you were always open about how much you cared about Gohan. I know you weren't."
Piccolo scowled. "Didn't take me nearly a decade though," he muttered.
"Well, no, but that's why you're the better father." When Piccolo raised a brow at her, she hastily went on. "Oh, I love him. And he is a good father, but, I'm not delusional either. He has areas he could vastly improve in. I'm hoping the more time he spends around you and Gohan, the more he'll pick up on it. He's already improved," she explained. "Well, I better let you shower. No doubt Vegeta has already started his, and we both know how impatient he is." She opened the door. "Down that hall, second door on your left. Knob turned left for cold water, right for hot."
Piccolo nodded and walked into the bathroom. Once he had the door closed, he slumped against it momentarily. His emotions were still running rampant, something he probably would never be comfortable with. He forced them down, putting on a mask of indifference again as he went to the shower. He turned the water on freezing cold and stripped of his weights and gi, stepping in. The icy water shocked him, grounded him, and he pulled himself together. Now was not the time for emotions. Now was the time to come up with a plan. Emotions and planning did not work well together. He quickly washed himself, turned the shower off, flared his ki to dry himself, and dressed himself in a new gi, throwing his old one in the trash. He pulled on his weights, steeled himself, and stepped out.
As he headed into the sitting room, he saw Vegeta already situated on the couch. The two glared at each other, and Piccolo opted to stand in the corner, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall. They said nothing to one another, instead waiting for Bulma to enter.
"Hi Dad!" Trunks greeted enthusiastically from upstairs. He jumped the railing and floated down effortlessly, obviously having practiced it many times before.
"The stairs are there for a reason," Vegeta muttered.
"Yeah, but Mom's not here, so... yeah," Trunks said happily, oblivious to the tension in the room. He eyed the spot beside his father on the couch, gauging just how close he could get. He opted for the spot directly next to the Saiyan, though not touching. He side-eyed his father again, and when he received no reaction, he scooted just a bit closer. Vegeta tensed slightly and he stopped, leaning back against the cushions, content in how close he was. Piccolo watched them with an intense feeling of déjà vu, remembering his time when he first started training Gohan. The boy had done much the same, always pushing just how close to Piccolo he could be.
"Okay, so planning..." Bulma said, entering the room. "Oh, Trunks, honey, not now. Go upstairs and play in your room for a bit, won't you? This is grown up stuff."
Trunks opened his mouth to protest, but Vegeta beat him to it. "No, he should stay." Trunks looked surprised, but beamed up at his father.
"Vegeta, he is not going to be in this fight..."
"I never said he was. But strategy is important, and he should stay to observe and learn. And you know he'll just eavesdrop from his room anyways."
Bulma huffed, but sat on the couch beside Trunks. "Fine. But you two have to keep it civil! Watch your mouth, Vegeta," she warned.
"Whatever," he grunted.
"Alright. So... Piccolo, this army the goddess if bringing, have you learned anything more? Or about Amat's?" Bulma asked, trying to get the ball rolling.
"She hasn't told me. All she said was to be prepared."
"That's really helpful," Bulma said sarcastically.
"Welcome to my world," Piccolo muttered. "My only strategy for this is whoever this army is, we just need to keep Amat's army distracted and at bay. Gohan will be fighting Majin Buu, and we don't know what form he'll be in. Shin is training him to handle that, so it'll be our jobs to make sure no one else intervenes.
"Now, there is another being working with Amat, and from what it sounds like, Tsuki and Shin seem to believe he'll have some measure of control over Buu..."
"Do you think if we kill him, Buu will be weakened?" Vegeta interrupted.
"I don't know. They didn't say much. I'm just going on intuition at this point," Piccolo admitted.
"Well that's fucking fantastic-"
"Vegeta," Bulma cut in.
"What does that even mean? You say it all the time. Fuck-OW!" Trunks yelped as Vegeta swatted him upside the head.
"Watch your mouth," he ground out.
"He gets it from you, you know," Bulma said pointedly.
"Whatever. So this being, should we try to kill him and see if it weakens Buu?"
"It's worth a shot. At the very least, killing him would prevent him from continuing to use dark magic against us. From the sound of it, Tsuki seems to believe this being is better at dark magic than even Amat. Killing him may even weaken Amat's army if he's helping him raise it."
"Can you guys sense him? Does he have a ki?" Bulma asked, cutting in. "If you could kill him now, before he can unleash this Buu thing..."
"Tsuki and Shin can't even sense him properly. There's no way we could," Piccolo said dismissively.
"So we deal with it day of," Vegeta said.
"Seems like our only choice."
They discussed for a long time, going over possible scenarios and situations. Piccolo and Vegeta were able to remain professional, and while there was a bit of bickering here and there, they were able to get back on track.
About midway through, Trunks seemingly began to grow bored, and then tired. He yawned loudly, leaning into his father. Vegeta shifted away, but Trunks just followed him, ending up curled up on the couch, his feet against Bulma's legs, his head against Vegeta's. Bulma smiled, placing her hand on Trunks' leg and rubbing it comfortingly.
Piccolo watched the scene before him, and his mind began to wander. This is what a proper family was. A mother and a father. Raising the child together. Gohan only had Piccolo. And now, he was far away, with Tsuki and Shin.
A pang of jealousy reared its ugly head in his chest before he could stop himself.
Shin and Tsuki. A man and a woman. Shin had expressed at the hospital those years before that Gohan should have been his and Tsuki's child. What if... what if Gohan decided he liked being with those two more than he enjoyed being raised by Piccolo? What if they could give him something he couldn't? What if... what if Gohan, at the end of this week, didn't want to come back?
"Piccolo? You okay?" Bulma asked, concerned. Her voice snapped Piccolo back to reality. He shook his head subtly to clear his mind.
"Did you even hear a word I said?" Vegeta asked, annoyed.
"Was just...thinking..." Piccolo said awkwardly.
"I said: Are the kai and goddess planning to fight as well? We didn't take that into account, and we probably should," Vegeta snapped.
"I would assume they are. Shin will probably help with the army. I assume Tsuki will be trying to keep her brother at bay long enough for Gohan to destroy Buu without his interference."
Bulma yawned now. "Okay, we've been at this for hours. I'm tired and hungry, and I'm pretty sure we've run through every possible scenario at least twice. I think any more dwelling will just drive us mad, and I need to get Trunks fed and to bed. Do you want to stay for dinner, Piccolo? Perhaps stay the night?" she offered.
Piccolo shook his head. "I need to take care of Gohan's cat," he said. And while Jade certainly would've been fine on her own for the night, he needed an excuse to get away from Vegeta for a while. He bid them goodnight and left as quickly as he could, eager to get home and be alone for a while.
Piccolo entered the dark home, nearly tripping over Jade in the process.
"Damn cat," he swore, regaining his balance. He went into the bedroom, as was his habit. He glanced at the empty bed and sighed before taking his usual perch at the foot of it. Jade jumped up onto the bed and into his lap, as she had been the previous nights. She mewled as he scratched behind her ear and looked pointedly at the empty bed.
"Don't worry," he muttered. "He'll come back for you, at least." Jade looked up at him with her large green eyes and then licked his hand. He sighed again, and his mind wandered once more. Maybe Vegeta was right. Maybe he was being selfish. If Gohan decided Tsuki and Shin were a better match for him, could care for him better, then he would honor it. He wouldn't be so selfish as to deny him that.
He didn't get much rest that night as he steeled himself for that conversation he was sure he was going to be having at week's end.