Chapter Text
Piccolo didn't sign up to be a family therapist. He was a warrior, the heir to a legacy of power and conquest, not even the foundations of the earth would remain if it had not been for him. He deserved some respect. And yet, he found himself listening to the emotional problems of his current student, the boy stressing about his parents and whether they were arguing, why the two of them were practically kicked out of the house if his mother did not agree with his participation, whether they would teach him a new technique during the day, whether he would also manage to transform into Super Saiyan and what Chichi would say about it, that day he had many questions. He was starting to rile him up a bit.
"Don't you think it's time for you to focus?" he scolded, catching the other's fist with ease.
Gohan looked at him in surprise, before attacking with a kick to his side, which Piccolo blocked with his arm and then grabbed under the knee to threw him away.
"At this rate you'll hardly be a challenge to those scraps."
"A-am I doing it that bad?"
"You haven't managed to land a single decent hit in the last hour, stop yammering and fix it!"
The boy cowered a little, but then assumed a defensive pose, charging at him with all his strength, this time landing a few punches to the torso and making greater use of his agility. His mentor appreciated that at least he took the time to listen to his corrections, it made the afternoon more bearable, although it could be considerably better if he didn't have to yell at him to get to that point.
"Mr. Piccolo, don't you think my dad should be here by now?" he shared his concerns again.
"Goku never gets anywhere on time," was his short response, making an attempt to grab the boy.
Gohan moved away, backing up until he planted his feet on a tree and propelled himself up in a powerful leap. "Well- yes, I'm not saying he doesn't, it just feels like something else. What could they be talking about?"
"I assure you, if it has to do with you, you will find out," he charged a small sphere of ki into his palm, disappearing in a blur to stand behind the kid, ready to fire.
Said kid managed to dodge the attack at the last second, leaving a few strands of hair singed, but otherwise unharmed.
"That was close," the Namekian growled.
The boy, who was feeling the ends of his hair with a grimace, only managed to open his lips slightly when a scream pierced both of their ears, in the opposite direction to where they were facing. Both teacher and student knew that voice, they had grown up with it in different ways, so they knew instantly that it had not been the battle cry to which they were accustomed. It was a cry for help.
Before Piccolo could think about stopping him, Gohan flew in that direction, at a speed that rivaled that of a bullet, there was no purpose in standing still when his father could be in danger.
Which was disconcerting in itself, his dad had already proven himself to be the strongest man in the world, that had been a constant fact throughout his life, he was even present in the moment the Super Saiyan was born. Being close to such legendary power had given him goosebumps. What could pose a threat to someone so big?
Funny, he had thought the same thing when he was four years old, when that horrible man had him in his grasp and his dad was left collapsed on the beach, clutching his chest in pain. There were always new ways to shatter his illusion, but he persisted.
His mentor caught up to him, surpassing him with a deep frown that promised a reprimand for later, though he might also have been tense about whatever they were about to find.
Many things happened when they entered a dense part of the forest. First, an orange blur was plummeting towards the ground. Second, Piccolo launched himself across the sky to reach it. Third and the worst part, Gohan instinctively looked for his father's ki, confirming that what was a few meters away from impacting the earth was him.
Making up for the precious seconds the boy let pass to act, the Namekian grabbed the man by the back of his gi, hastening to lower them both to safe ground.
Upon making contact with the grass, his teacher unceremoniously dropped his barely conscious father, so he bent down to gently shake him. "Dad! Are you okay? Were you attacked?"
"What were you trying to do, Son?" he demanded upon seeing his former enemy's glassy eyes.
Goku's back arched, that sudden, terrible movement drawing a harsh gasp from him, it sounded like he wanted to cough and something was stuck in his larynx, which made Gohan's ache in sympathy. When he tried to help him sit up, it started. Legs kicking in the dirt, fingers tearing at the surface to grab onto something, those sounds he never, ever wanted to hear again, he almost couldn't believe what he was witnessing. Before his mind processed it, he had his father seizing right in front of his eyes.
Dread was something he had gotten used to, since that day it had accompanied him constantly, however there was no comparison with the cold that ran through his entire body. He had to do something, his dad was hurt, they had to act quick, if only he could keep his racing heart under control.
OK. Seizures. He read about them. They affected brain activity and could become fatal if not treated carefully. His mom knew how to handle those. He had a vague idea how to do it. Alright- he needed something soft, where was he going to get such a thing in the middle of Mount Paozu?!
With his mind in overdrive, he scanned the area they were in, until his eyes landed on Piccolo, who fell to one knee and seemed to want to immobilize Goku. Oh no, they weren't supposed to do that. Gohan touched his arm and roughly shook his head to make him desist. Then the touch of white cloth gave him an idea.
"Mr. Piccolo, lend me your cloak please! Now!"
"Hold on, what is- Gohan!" the boy attempted to take the garment himself, failing when the Namekian snatched it from him. "What the hell is wrong with him? Is that normal?" he pointed with a finger at the man at their feet.
"I'll explain later, I swear, it's a long story- Just give me your cloak!"
Piccolo didn't like not having answers, it irritated him, he was going to keep insisting until he saw the first signs of water on the boy's eyelashes, along with the sound of his rival jolting repeatedly. Thud. Thud. Thud. He hated that noise. He reluctantly took it off along with the turban, to which the child hurriedly put them under Goku's head. Mmmmm. That seemed very deliberate, as if the problem came from there.
Oblivious of the other's thoughts, the kid turned Goku on his side as best he could and pulled hard on his pants to lift his leg. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath, looking slightly ill, which motivated the older man to position himself closer in case he too became erratic and out of it.
Whatever was happening to Goku reminded him of a squirming insect after being crushed, the same painful sight that made him want to end the creature's misery. The only reason he didn't look away was because Gohan wasn't allowing himself to, and it would be very cruel of him to leave him alone in this.
"Yeah, I got it, um," he felt him shift uncomfortably. "D-Dad, I don't know what happened, and I guess you don't either, but don't worry, Mr. Piccolo and I are here. We heard you and I got scared- I thought the worst, you know? I don't blame you, it must hurt a lot." He closed his eyes tightly, with the intention of pushing his trepidation down because he was no longer a baby and crying was not going to cure his father. They taught him better than that. But it was so hard to keep it inside. With a brittle sigh, he continued speaking, being the only thing that broke the disturbing atmosphere that had formed between them.
The Namekian remained silent, he didn't see the point, albeit if Gohan knew what he was doing, he trusted his judgment. Knowing that he was way out of his league there, was not a feeling he wanted to become a recurrence.
They watched with bated breath as the raven hair flickered to blonde, and the eyes to teal. That couldn't mean anything good.
"Is this because of the famous accident he had?"
A few seconds before it had occurred to him that perhaps it was a Saiyan thing, he ended up discarding that theory because he didn't remember having seen Gohan like that, and his alien blood had been stronger than his human one so far. Then he thought about the heart virus, except it couldn't be, that was years away and none of the symptoms Trunks predicted were present. It left one last option.
"Yes, how—" he lost all color in his face. "Oh no no no no no no- I forgot! I don't even know how long it's been!" he ruffled his hair in dismay. "And we can't take him to the hospital, it's too risky. Good Lord, dad please be okay."
Noticing the slightest decrease in the spasms, Piccolo rested a hand on Gohan's head, letting his claws graze his scalp in a fleeting movement. "I put a hole in his chest and he survived. I say this is nothing to him."
The child made a face at that, but he did seem a bit soothed. Luckily, Goku's body gave up shortly after. The little Saiyan's muscles also loosened from their rigid state, almost leaning on his mentor, who let him stay like that without objection.
Goku stirred, his first sign of life after a minute, it wasn't long before he tried to get up, although he was incredibly uncoordinated and shaky, which didn't go unnoticed by them. Piccolo felt inclined to assist him, to compensate for not having done anything while he was... compromised, and because it couldn't be any other way, when he wanted to do that good deed it backfired. In the form of a blow to the stomach.
"NO!" the man exclaimed in a hoarse voice. Despite his weakened state, his arms settled into a fighting stance out of pure muscle memory.
"I see your reflexes are still the same," Piccolo remarked grumpily.
He dodged as a fist shot towards his face, grabbing the wrist and applying pressure, which was enough to force the Saiyan's hand open. Breathing heavily, Goku attempted the same move with the other, ending up trapped by his 'opponent's' unrelenting grip.
"Let GO!" he shouted, desperation evident in his words. His expression was a combination of faraway hostility and fear. Those clouded, bloodshot eyes almost made the Namekian loosen his hold.
"Dad, it's okay, it's just me and Mr. Piccolo. We won't hurt you," the boy spoke to him from behind. His father spun around so quickly that he was caught off guard, ducking in time to avoid the kick that was headed straight for him. "Dad....."
Goku turned his head between the two of them, with the distrust of a cornered animal, his chest rising and falling in short breaths through his nose, it seemed that he couldn't decide whether to continue attacking or flee. Suddenly, it occurred to Piccolo that Goku wasn't looking at them, but at something else.
"L-let me go! Don't touch me!" the Saiyan struggled against him, leaning back and landing a headbutt.
The impact stunned the Namekian, causing him to release the man, who took the opportunity to elbow him in the nose. Unwilling to be restrained again, he tried to stand up, if not for the fact that his legs were still shaking and unable to support his weight for more than two seconds. He fell back to the ground with a pained grunt, choosing instead to drag himself as far as his body could carry him.
Gohan raised his hands slowly, wanting to inch towards his father, but was stopped by his mentor, who seemed to know something he didn't. That little exchange alerted the other.
"Stay there!" Goku snarled at them with his teeth in plain sight. Piccolo made a mental note that they were pointy, not as much as a Namekian's but there was a difference from his hybrid son's blunt ones.
Dismissing that thought, he met his gaze. "Relax, I am not planning on doing anything," he said impassively, before addressing the boy. "I understand that it will take time for him to recover, am I right?"
With a sour look, Gohan just nodded.
"We have no choice but to wait, better make yourself comfortable," with a huff, he crossed his legs and clasped his fingers in his lap. His student paused, glancing at Goku, before mimicking his stance.
Once he was in position, he noticed Piccolo inhaling and exhaling at a higher volume than was considered normal, even blowing through his mouth from time to time. His eyes remained closed, as if it were a daily meditation session, the living image of serenity. Then it dawned on him, and followed his example.
The birds sang, the crickets chirped and in the distance the flow of a river could be heard, however both were waiting for a sign that their joint attempt would work. For a few moments nothing changed, which in itself was making the child restless, if it weren't for the indicative shuffling sound, causing him to open an eye. His father, who for some reason had clumsily covered his shoulders with Piccolo's cloak, was looking better, if a little wary. Wordlessly, he ended up forming a circle with the two of them on the ground, with the difference that his legs were attached to his chest. Whatever teacher and student were thinking seemed to have shown in their expressions, because he shrank as if he wanted to disappear into the heavy fabric.
The tense silence stretched for a few more minutes, until Goku couldn't stand it anymore. "What is he doing here, Piccolo?"
Surprised by his tone and question, the Namekian raised an eyebrow, "I was with him before you, clearly."
"And why didn't you send him home, why did you let him see?" he held onto the garment in his hands like a life preserver.
"Dad, I—"
"Why did you let him stay?" the older Saiyan questioned the other adult, something like betrayal coming from his voice.
"He didn't! I decided on my own," he wasn't sure why his father was angry at his mentor, but he would defend him all the same. "I wasn't going to leave you no matter what he told me, it's not his fault."
Goku flickered his eyes to him, conflict written all over his face, and then responded more softly. "This ain't something I can talk to you about, son. You should be with your mom."
"Huh?"
"You're speaking nonsense. Gohan was more helpful here than he would have been far away, he handled the situation well while you were out. If your intention was to hide it from him, it's too late." Piccolo intervened firmly, as if daring him to say otherwise.
"Um, I've known this for years."
"He's a kid." It was the only explanation he offered.
The Namekian scoffed at that, "Is he now? That stopped being a reason a long time ago. Don't underestimate him like that."
"Piccolo, you don't know what it feels like. If you had any idea you would agree with me!"
"Then hurry up and explain what the fuck just happened to you, and don't even think about lying to me, Goku."
The other warrior was silent at that. His son took the initiative.
"It's called a seizure," he clarified, crestfallen. "The brain reacts to sudden electrical signals. It's the worst it can get... I've only been around during migraines. Until today."
Technically, the younger Saiyan was just giving an answer that he had already promised, he shouldn't feel guilty about anything. That became difficult when Goku buried his face in his hands. The boy hoped he would forgive him for that.
"I see..." he turned to his student. "You are very knowledgeable on the subject."
"...It's the least I can do," he admitted meekly.
It was all Piccolo needed to tilt his head toward the father, with a defiant air that said, 'I told you so.'
"Doesn't change anything," Goku stressed with a clenched jaw. "He's little."
"That kind of knowledge is valuable, it just saved your life apparently. What's the problem with him being prepared?" he pressed.
"You won't get it- 'cause it's not your body that's not right!"
The Namekian crossed his arms, "You feel inferior, is that it?"
"I thought I could fix it! That becoming a Super Saiyan would make it go away!"
He hated how stupid it sounded out loud, and sure enough his two companions agreed. Gohan was left processing what he had just heard, while Piccolo opened his mouth to reprimand him.
"Are you out of your mind? How did you even consider it was going to work? Do you have a death wish?" it was a bit insulting that he didn't need to raise his voice to get the point across.
"I thought I'd be fine..."
"I don't usually expect much from you. Oh but now you've surpassed yourself. Fantastic, another thing to add to the problems we already have! Do you want someone following your every move to prevent you from getting yourself killed?"
"MAYBE I'M SICK OF EVERYONE TREATING ME LIKE A BABY!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, startling the animals nearby.
The other two jumped at his outburst, Piccolo wincing at his sensitive ears, while Goku clenched his fists so hard that his nails left deep marks.
"Everyone thinks I'm going to fall apart, it's like they don't trust me anymore. I'm still the same," he stared at his palms, tracing the lines on them as if they could give an answer to his dilemma. "I can still protect us, I can still fight. And I will." He declared with a determined face, leaving no room for argument.
Small fingers made contact with his, less calloused and scarred, and very familiar. Looking at his son, he was surprised to see the fire in him, although he did not lose his innate kindness.
"Maybe it came out wrong, because you misunderstood why I learned these things," he settled into his direct line of vision. "I don't think any less of you, dad. If I get worried when you are sick, it's because I love you and I care about you, nothing else."
The certainty that came from him could almost bring him to tears. "I'm your dad, little man, I'm the one who takes care of you. Not the other way around."
"Well, now that I'm strong too, you can't stop me," he raised his fists and smiled at him, with all the confidence he lacked the day he started training.
Goku couldn't stand that his little boy felt the obligation to be his support, it was going to take a lot to convince him that that role didn't belong to him. On the other hand, he couldn't be prouder of the person Gohan was becoming, so responsible and selfless, what his father always failed to be. He pulled him towards him and trapped him in a hug, happy that he still fit there.
"I don't like that you grow up so fast," he whispered half jokingly, he still hid some melancholy.
"Too bad, I'll keep doing it," he nuzzled into his neck. "Tell you what, we'll find a way to heal you."
That statement raised questions, and he wasn't sure he was ready to hear the answers, so he didn't comment on it.
The Namekian looked up at the sky, noticing the orange coloring that indicated the sunset, "We should head back, I doubt we will make any progress now."
The older Saiyan felt a pang of guilt for two particular reasons, "Right… I have to talk to Chichi anyway."
"Is everything all right?" Gohan asked.
"Yeah, uh, I owe her an apology. But we're going to be okay," he stood up, internally mourning the loss of his son in his arms, the kid not seeming any interested in being carried home.
"Can you fly?" this time it was Piccolo.
Goku raised a hand to the back of his neck, massaging the spot. "......I feel pins and needles here and there.... I'm not too eager to repeat what happened earlier."
"Walking it is!" the boy interfered before his mentor had the chance to suggest Instant Transmission. "Fine for me, I need to stretch my legs."
In the end, the path was even relaxing, it was what they needed to organize their thoughts. In the distance they could already see the house, albeit just when Gohan got far ahead of them to enter, Piccolo used that moment alone to verbally express what was on his mind.
"I just remembered... when you arrived at Namek, King Kai said your ki was off. Strong, but unsteady."
".... He did?" Goku was not meeting his eyes.
"Is there something me and the others need to know?"
"No, no, I just had a little problem. It was awful, but I had no time to get better."
"And there is no way for you to control it."
"Nope, I'm stuck like this," he beamed at him, realizing only then that he hadn't returned the cloak. "Oh! I'm sure you want this back."
Before he could take it off, Piccolo made a new set appear on himself with his magic, "Don't bother. Keep it, or throw it away."
"Actually, I like it. It's nice... Thanks."
Piccolo pursed his lips, "Let's be clear, I don't really care what you do with your life, just remember that Trunks went to a lot of trouble for you to ruin it because of your negligence. And if that's not reason enough for you, don't teach your son to be a fucking martyr and carry everything alone."
"Trust me, I won't forgive myself either if we lose because of me," he stated without hesitation, looking up at the only star that had emerged. "I will die before I hurt Gohan."
****
May 12, year 767
As he put on the blue undershirt, Goku paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, and then continued with the rest of his clothing. This was the day. In a few hours they would gather on the island of the events, test the results of their training against this threat in the form of machines, and rewrite the future.
Unconsciously, he was counting his heartbeats in his head, already eager to feel the excitement pushing him to his limits. He hadn't thought of it as an omen.