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The Red Ribbon base was unrecognisable now, bits of it littered the landscape like foul snow, grey and metal ridden, forgotten. It had been a year since Cell Max had been released and Gohan had destroyed it, a year since Gohan had fought at all. Piccolo’s effort to get the younger man back into fighting had been a thankless task and one that he now regretted. It had all seemed so superfluous and tongue in cheek at first, yet how quickly things had turned. Piccolo rolled a fragment of the laboratory under his boot for a moment before crushing it, watching as the remains plumed into toxic dust. He glanced up at the overcast sky, peering through the shielding haze that still lingered around the compound.
He came here often, too often really and he hadn’t the slightest idea why. He didn’t visit the site Cell had chosen for an arena, neither did he search out where Nappa had killed him. Piccolo smirked at the memory of Vegeta’s cross little face then frowned, wondering if the Saiyan had come to Earth with the same glee Piccolo had felt over infiltrating the base. The Gamma’s were comical, the whole organisation appeared to be villainous but not evil, not really. Piccolo sighed and stepped forward. It hadn’t been child’s play in the end, he had very nearly died. Pan had been in real danger and his student had pushed himself too far. Gohan hadn’t said much to anyone since.
Piccolo ventured deeper into the chasm like he always did, carelessly yet with a feather touch. He supposed he did know why he came here, month on month, looking for some sort of resolution to his addled mind. He felt guilty. Not the simple, hot misery he was well used to, this was something more dire, more scorching. If he had taken it seriously, had handled things differently, tried harder to reach Vegeta and Goku, Gamma Two died might not have died. All of their lives may have been a little less in jeopardy. He sometimes resented that about himself, that he yearned and ached for the adrenaline of battle, for the very real risk to his own life. He lived just to try and die, over and over, and this time he had dragged the people he loved into the same mire he existed in.
That was why Piccolo made this pilgrimage; because he believed that he had orchestrated the entire situation. There was a path to be chosen and he had picked one, and now he was still alive to live with it.
Piccolo jumped down into the lower pit where Cell Max’s tank used to be. He was far below the surface now and the grey light from above did little to aid him. It was a strange place to be, eerie, quiet. Like when he had chased after Cell through town after town, finding nothing but fabric and silence. It had unnerved him then just like it did now, though he was loathe to tell a single soul about it. Then there was a sound. Piccolo’s long ears twitched and he turned, his cape licking the fallen debris.
He blinked, dark eyes widening in disbelief. Gamma Two blinked back at him in kind with a soft lilting smile on his face. His charm was as warm and as real as it had been then.
“Piccolo Daimao”
The use of his full name made Piccolo want to break out into wild confused laughter, instead, he remained still and responded the same as he had done. His voice was low, lacking confidence, lacking volume.
“It’s just Piccolo”
Gamma Two grinned and stepped forward in his tattered gold uniform. Piccolo’s muscles turned solid as the other man approached him and he tried not to breathe as the android embraced him. Piccolo tried to figure out if this was an apparition, an elaborate trick or another enemy tactic. If it were science or magic, he had no idea. Gamma Two squeezed him, muttering soft words of happiness that Piccolo tried not to hear. The Namek had little experience with muttered sweetness and was confused at such a thing being whispered to him. He remained stony, not returning the embrace even as the android’s form stayed real and warm against him. Gamma Two stepped back a little and looked up at Piccolo with piercing black and amber eyes. His soul looked on fire, like it had never disbanded into the atmosphere. The android’s voice was gentle.
“You come here often”
Piccolo felt a cold feeling he was unfamiliar with flood him and he wanted to leave, except he also felt compelled to stay.
“How could you know that?”
Are you alive? Did you come back?
Gamma Two seemed to hear his very thoughts and half smiled, whimsical still even in death or whatever this was.
“I just am, Piccolo”
Piccolo clenched his fists and he searched for the sharp feeling of his claws grazing his own skin to ground him. He couldn’t be entirely sure he wasn’t deep in meditation and hallucinating like a clueless sap. He felt the tell tale pinpricks but Gamma Two’s form remained.
“Are you…did you reform?”
The Namek remembered Gamma Two’s essence drifting off into the sky like ash, mechanical but ethereal. Had it come back together like a vase glued back together, piece by piece? Again, the android seemed to hear Piccolo’s mind, like the Namek’s lifetime of mental training meant nothing.
“Not exactly, my friend”
Piccolo blinked at the word. There weren’t many people on the planet who would claim such a thing, dead or alive. He felt himself soften in the surrealness of it all, driven by the part of him desperate to resolve the guilt, the part that wanted to be embraced every now and then. The part that had felt hot rage when Cell Max had tried to crush Gamma Two’s lifeless form. Piccolo swallowed and pulled at his gi top, trying to relieve the strange strangulation he felt around his chest.
“How are you here? You are…you are Gamma Two?”
Gamma Two sat down on the ground, as if he was already tired from their small interaction and Piccolo’s questions.
“I don’t know…come, sit with me Piccolo”
Piccolo pondered the request for a moment but found himself acquiescing easily, lured like he had been lured to visit these ruins in the first place. He sat down beside the android in the dirt, crossing his long legs. He startled when Gamma two’s arm pressed against his chest and forced him to lie down. Then Gamma two spoke softly, as if volume might eradicate his very existence.
“Lie down and call me Two, my brother does”
The ground was cold but Piccolo laid down obediently, shoulder to shoulder with whatever creature was beside him. The clouds above had gathered into a deep, dark cluster, threatening rain. A moment passed and the rain poured. Gamma two kept his hand on Piccolo’s chest, feeling the organic heart beat there, marvelling over it. The afternoon was nearly over and so would their short time together, soon, Piccolo would leave. Tormented and confused. Two knew it as well as he knew anything, though he couldn’t voice why. Neither could he explain why he existed still and had watched the Namek visit the pit of this nightmare all throughout fall and winter. How it had made him smile.
Piccolo let the android leave his hand there, it was lukewarm but solid. He had mass, did that mean he was alive? Or was there more to life than that? Piccolo had no idea, he thought endlessly but he wasn’t a philosopher, he had no understanding of the finer things of existence. That was for the Gods to fight and lord over. The rain pattered his face with icy slaps and he closed his eyes.
Two turned his head to look at Piccolo, to look at the strange man that he had tried to kill and the very same man who had tried so very hard to save him despite it. What a strange thing. Two watched the rise and fall of Piccolo’s chest as he breathed, he looked at the violet flush that spotted his cheeks and ears. Two had thought many things as he wandered the remains of the base he had called home, he had lingered over every detail, over every face and the face of this green man had haunted him. Then the Namek had visited, trundling through the ruined structure pondering, guilt ridden and heartbroken. Two had witnessed not one, but two staggering temper tantrums in and amongst the silent agony. He had watched for months and quietly, so slowly, he had fallen for the young Demon King. For both his pretty face and his tender heart. It wouldn’t do to say, what value did the words of the dead have anyway? Gamma Two smiled to himself in the dark day.
If things had been different, he’d have whispered the truth after that final battle into Piccolo’s ear.
CC.