Chapter Text
Piccolo’s first mistake was assuming Goku would attack from the right. Given his extensive knowledge of Goku’s battle strategies he had made an educated guess, unfortunately Piccolo neglected to factor in Goku knowing he knew his fighting style intimately and had expected Piccolo to expect an attack from the right. He was unprepared for Goku’s fist coming from the left, smashing into the side of his head hard enough that stars burst behind his eyelids. Piccolo’s second mistake was figuring the mountain range he was hurdling towards would shatter on impact, he was disoriented enough that trying to right himself in the air would be difficult and he assumed at this speed he would go through the rocks and remain relatively unharmed, banged up sure, but not completely incapacitated. Unfortunately this was also an miscalculation. As Piccolo cascaded down a very intact mountain, over and through layers of rock and trees he didn’t have time to contemplate what his third mistake was going to be, as his already battered head collided with a particularly large boulder.
His world went completely black.
When he regained consciousness he noticed that something soft and warm was cradling him, even before he tuned into the agony of his battered body fighting for his full attention. Piccolo had rarely been touched outside of battle. He had even more infrequently been touched gently, he could count the number of times on one hand that he had allowed Gohan to hug him. Even counting those interactions he could never remember being held with such gentle concern. His head lay on something soft and warm. A hand was moving across his forehead soothingly, and a soft voice was telling him he was going to be okay. He hated how his body melted into the touch, as if it was something he was thirsty for but hadn’t known. Fighting the instinct to be comforted, to lay and pretend to be incapacitated to enjoy the warmth of the moment, he instead focused on summoning up complete indignation that someone would dare to touch him. It made his blood boil and he leaned into that anger. Anger after all made more sense than whatever other feelings were attempting to break through.
Piccolo ignored the intense vertigo and leaned heavily into the fight response he leapt to his feet, swiping his claws at the person who’d dared to hold him. Piccolo blinked away the black spots swimming at the corners of his vision and sneered down at Goku who was currently staring at his arm, gouged deep with claw marks looking like a puppy that had just been kicked. Goku’s eyes turned up to Piccolo and he went from hurt to relieved to see his friend standing.“Hey! Piccolo you’re okay I was worried to leave you to get senzu but then I might hafta move you and with a head injury that’d be pretty bad.”
“Why were you holding me like that.” Piccolo sneered. Ignoring his screaming muscles, and the cool trail of blood dripping down his face. Ignoring everything but how furious he was, allowing the fury to drive out the humiliation he felt, allowing his anger to guide him. Anger at his own physical weakness for allowing himself to get hurt, and his own emotional weakness of being comforted by Goku.
Goku looked confused, then upset, and settled on dejected before he spoke. Holding up his hands in what he hoped was a non-threatening way, ignoring the stinging cuts on his arms, “Don’t be like that, Piccolo”
“Like what ? This is how I am Son.” Sneer firmly in place.
“We’re friends aren’t we? You were, you ARE really hurt! I’m tryin’ to help.” Goku moved toward Piccolo, hands still up.
Piccolo, much to the protest of his body took a quick step back. “Are we? Are we friends? When did that happen? Until we began to train together we hadn’t been in the vicinity of one another for more than an hour without trying to kill each other or having someone kill us! What gives you the right to touch me? To be so concerned about my well being?”
Goku, whether or not Piccolo thought he had the right to be, was seriously concerned. Piccolo’s gi was ripped and he was bleeding from all over the place, some of the wounds were closing up but he still looked real rough, Goku thought if Piccolo kept this up he could permanently damage something. He was worried about his head injury especially. He knew from training with Kami that Namekians could take a serious beating, but their heads were a major weak spot, and two hard hits to the head meant Piccolo was in a bad way even though he obviously refused to show it. Why does Piccolo hafta be so difficult, he sighed to himself. “Come on Piccolo....let’s calm down. It’s not a big deal….” he tried, not knowing if he could say anything that wouldn’t make this worse, so he hoped Piccolo would just accept the olive branch and calm down.
“Answer the question, Son.” Piccolo spat, fangs especially threatening coated in purple blood. How dare Goku downplay this humiliation? Touching him and holding him as if he was some injured hatchling? Making him suffer this ingnity?
Okay so he’s not gonna calm down. Goku sighed, “You saved me on Namek? So I owe you? Also I think savin’ my life makes us, kinda friends?” Hopefully this appealed to Piccolo’s logical side since Goku could tell he was running on pure emotion and with Piccolo the go to emotion was anger.
Piccolo’s eyes widened, not expecting Goku to reply with something so practical. “I saved you....”
He trailed off as if remembering for the first time he had risked his life to save Goku from that godforsaken Namekian ocean. That he had risked drowning to pull Goku up with him. He could almost feel his lungs burn, begging for air as he dove deeper to grab Goku’s hand. Determined to bring them to the surface together, or die trying. He banished the memories.
“...I saved you for Gohan.” He hated that he sounded so unsure, so petulant. Like a liar.
Goku softened, tilting his head to the side, ignoring Piccolo’s obvious lie. “Please, let me help you.”
Piccolo assumed Goku meant he wanted to help the multiple wounds on his body that were furiously stinging and most likely bleeding, but with Goku you could never be sure. Give him an inch and he worms his way past every wall you had ever put up against the world. Suddenly you start caring about feelings and friendship. Suddenly you started wanting comfort. Suddenly a hand on your forehead kicks up a whole bunch of emotions you never knew you had, and never wanted in the first place. Suddenly you feel soft, vulnerable.
Piccolo’s face twisted into a grimace, “I’m fine on my own. I always have been.”
“I know that, I know you’d be fine on your own. But you’re not alone, I can help you. We can go home and Chi Chi can patch you up. It’ll be fine.”
The mention of the home Goku had invited him to stay at while they trained was too much for Piccolo’s already frayed nerves, the idea of Goku’s wife seeing him so weak was unthinkable. How dare Goku even suggest the idea? He saw red. “I hate this! I hate you! You and your whole damn family!” He threw his arms out to emphasize how much he hated this all. Desperately wishing his cape had survived the fall. The whole gesture would have been more impactful with the cape. Goku looked genuinely hurt and Piccolo’s heart lurched uncomfortably in his chest. This was escalating too fast but Piccolo had no ability to defuse the situation. He certainly not was not equipped to apologize. He had his pride. What was left of it anyway.
Goku wondered what he had said to make Piccolo explode like that. He knew he was taking the bait when he shot back with “You don’t mean that,” but he was starting to get real tired of how stubborn Piccolo was acting.
“I do.” Piccolo shouted, arms crossed. I don't, his mind threw back at him. He stuffed that impulse down. Frowning.
Goku tried to think of something to make Piccolo stay. He had tried being nice, and calm, which was for sure not working as planned. He sighed, wishing Gohan was here and not back at home studying, Gohan knew how to deal with Piccolo. Besides everything Goku did just seemed to make Piccolo even more mad. He knew that if he let Piccolo go he may not come back. Out of sheer stubbornness and hurt pride Piccolo would just hide his chi and train alone for the remainder of the three years in some giant wasteland. Which would make Gohan sad and leave Goku without a strong training partner, which would make Goku pretty sad. Besides he had figured he and Piccolo were becoming friends, this seemed like a big step backwards from fighting side by side on Namek. Goku’s head hurt with all this thinking about what to say next to, hopefully, somehow, make Piccolo less angry. So, instead of thinking Goku made a decision, he took a deep breath and did what he knew how to do best, threw a punch lunging fist first toward Piccolo.
Piccolo caught his fist and bared his fangs, but smiled. “So this is how it’s going to be?”
“If it gets you to stop bein’ dramatic.” Goku smirked back.
“I have never, once in my life been dramatic.” Piccolo hissed as he clenched Goku’s fist in his claws, drawing blood, to emphasize just how not dramatic he was.
Goku could have mentioned Piccolo’s tournament entrance that he definitely timed with lightning strikes. Or the show he made of swallowing the bottle with Kami in it. Or the fancy way he spoke when he was younger. He didn’t mention them but he sure thought about all of them. In a way he admired Piccolo’s theatricality, it made him creative, it made him fun. Not that Piccolo would ever admit to something as undignified as being, or having fun.
Instead of talking, Goku instead twisted his arm to break Piccolo’s hold and kicked out to try to sweep his legs. Piccolo jumped avoiding the kick, still smiling. Eyes glinting.
The fight escalated quickly. The spar they had been engaging in pre argument was ferocious but still a spar. This fight was going to be a battle. Fists flew lightning fast forcing Piccolo to resort to blasting backwards against Goku’s relentless barrage. Piccolo took quick stock of his injuries as he flew. His muscles were strained and his left leg was throbbing especially hard, but he had all his limbs and no broken bones. If he could strike hard and fast he still had a chance of taking Goku out.
Goku hesitated to power up fully as he pursued Piccolo, not wanting to injure him further, but also knowing if he held back Piccolo would be even madder. Goku closed the gap coming at Piccolo with an elbow.
Piccolo dodged, spun and resorted to extending his arm, using his claws to dig into the spot he had previously injured Goku. A dirty trick but an effective one. Retracting his arm and shaking the Saiyan blood off his claws Piccolo hissed. “I’m not weak”
“No one said you were.” Goku ripped off part of his gi and wrapped his bleeding arm, before falling into a defensive stance.
Piccolo didn’t say anything as he dropped into his own stance. They locked eyes before launching at each other.
Piccolo and Goku fought, trading blow for blow, and shaking the earth beneath them. Goku eventually fired off a Kamehameha that forced Piccolo into the air, searching for Goku through the dust kicked up by the blast, realizing too slowly to dodge that Goku had phased behind him. Goku aimed a kick to Piccolo’s left leg, realizing that he had been avoiding putting his full weight on it. Piccolo’s face twisted in pain as he felt his knee shift precariously in its socket, and Goku used the opening to slam both fists into the side of Piccolo’s face forcing him to the ground.
Piccolo tried to stand but his leg crumpled under his body weight and he was forced to kneel as Goku touched down lightly beside him wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. Piccolo hoped Goku would just end him instead of trying to engage in further conversation, or worse, try to help him again.
“Why’d you agree to come train if you were goin’ to be so mean?” Goku asked, reaching out to try to help Piccolo stand.
Piccolo swatted his hand away, breathing heavily. Trying unsuccessfully to focus his chi so he could at least eye blast Goku. His mind reeled at the question, one he had asked himself after he had initially agreed to Goku’s offer. He bit back the truth.
I wanted to see Gohan.
I can’t let Gohan grow up alone.
I hated thinking you were dead after Namek
I don’t want you to die.
I don’t want to die again.
I couldn’t go back to being alone
I don’t want to be alone.
“To get stronger. Obviously. I don’t care about anything else.”
Goku looked at him with something that was a cross between disappointment and pity. Piccolo bristled at the condescension as Goku sighed and walked a few steps backwards drawing his hands to his sides. Piccolo was unsure of what to expect and his eyes widened as he felt a rush of power. Goku powered up to Super Saiyan so quickly and effortlessly, bursting gold, eyes electric blue. Angry. Angry and staring directly at Piccolo. Piccolo felt slightly tipsy from the amount of power radiating from Goku in that moment, the air saturated with the chi felt like a heavy blanket had been dropped on him. Suffocating.
“You want strength? That’s all you want? That’s all you care about?” Icy eyes narrowed.
Piccolo swallowed thickly. That's what he wanted wasn’t it? Strength. To be so strong his motives would never be questioned again. To be strong enough to kill anyone who would question him. With strength he could ignore these horrible feelings he had become burdened with.
“Strength isn’t about not feeling anythin’ Piccolo. Strength doesn't come from not carin’ about anyone. This strength comes from protectin’ people I love.”
“Too bad I don’t have any of those.” Piccolo spat at the dirt. Who was this facade for? He was so tired. And still something inside him refused to let Goku win. To let him be right.
You don’t mean that. You saved Gohan. Even if you hate me, even if you hate everyone else.” The unnatural eyes felt like they could see right through Piccolo.
I would do it again. Without a second thought. “That was a miscalculation.” Piccolo said. Not willing to completely denounce his decision to save Gohan, not even at his worst, would he admit to regretting it. He tensed waiting for the Super Saiyan to launch at him, trying his best to make his protesting body respond.
Instead, Goku sighed, powering down. Hair flickered from yellow to black. The unnatural eyes returned to their normal black, softer and kinder. They stood at an impasse. Piccolo, unable to fight but willing to wound as much as possible with his words. Goku, able but unwilling to finish the fight, with no desire to argue.
“What now?” Goku asked completely at a loss. He had tried being nice, he had tried fighting. Truthfully he was completely out of ideas. He didn’t want things to go back to how they were before Radditz, but Goku couldn’t help but feel like he had undone all of Piccolo’s hard work in one afternoon.
“We don’t do anything. If you are unwilling to finish the fight, I am leaving” Piccolo crossed his arms. Standing up to his full height and forcing his injured leg to stop shaking.
“Where’ll you go?”
“None of your concern,” Piccolo snarled, turning and taking a step, before turning back and adding “Somewhere where I can no longer be affected by your weakness.” Piccolo gathered what was left of his chi and replaced his cape and turban before launching into the air. The direction didn’t matter; he needed to leave, to be alone.
“Having feelin’s isn’t weak!” Goku yelled at the white cape in the distance, knowing probably Piccolo heard him. Hoping Piccolo really heard him. He frowned. How was he going to explain this to Gohan? And how was he going to fix this. With all his other friends, even if they didn’t start out liking him, they had come around, and they had never been so ready to get angry.
Goku scratched his head, this was just like after the tournament when he’d given Piccolo the senzu bean. Back then he had hoped Piccolo would get up and say he wasn’t going to be evil anymore and then they’d be friends and training partners. That didn’t happen though, Piccolo had gotten up, and sworn his revenge and flown away. Which was kind of like what happened today except Piccolo hadn’t sworn vengeance. So that seemed like progress? Maybe. He wanted to help, back then and now because even when Piccolo seemed angry, he seemed sad too. Either way it seemed to Goku every time he thought he was helping he seemed to push Piccolo away. He stared into the sky, in the direction Piccolo had flown off in, not sensing his chi at all and hoped that this time he hadn’t pushed Piccolo away for good.