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Thursday Morning	By : Spacefille Category: Dragon Ball Z > General Views: 2626 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z. I am making no money off of the following work of fiction

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
Merge

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Her emotions crashed like swelling waves in his mind, every thought and feeling as sharp as if it were his own. She was more than content and happy, she was ecstatic, she loved him, everything was right, and good and amazing. She stroked his neck and shoulder idly, her eyes closed and a smile on her face.

Piccolo drew a deep breath. The emotions were slightly unfamiliar to him and that was how he knew they weren’t his completely own. He felt, of course, deeply about some matters, but not with the same sharp intensity as she did. He expected that had something to do with the difference between their species… or maybe it was just him.

What he didn’t understand was what, exactly, had he done. All he had wanted to do was reassure her. Her mind had been absolute chaos, and he had wanted to sooth it, make her feel better…

He had ended up doing the exact opposite of what he wanted to do without even meaning to. He had flooded her mind with his own, giving her thoughts, memories, and feelings… when he realized what was going on, he had shut down the link, only to discover he couldn’t do that without causing her a lot of pain.

That meant that their once voluntary link had just become quite… involuntary.

Shit.

“Gohan,” he muttered against her hair. He combed his fingers through her hair then tilted her head back so that she would look at him.

The content happiness faded slightly as she saw the look on his face and caught what he was feeling. /What is it? Why are you upset?/ And then when she sensed the problem without him having to say anything she continued. / It’s okay, I don’t mind./

Damn it. Of course she’d be perfectly fine with this.

“Shh,” she said, and a calming feeling came over him. This warmth, these feelings weren’t his, but hers, and they were mixing and combining with his own. It felt a bit like how he had felt when he had fused with…

Oh.

His eyes widened. It made sense then, what had happened, and also why he didn’t understand it. Gohan was a human, there was no way for them to ever fuse like he had with Kami and Nail. Wanting to fuse with someone and being able to were two totally different things. “Gohan, I think…” he began. /I think I tried to fuse with you,/ he thought at her.

She considered that for a moment. Then he got the equivalent of a mental shrug from her. “But you didn’t, so…”

/Can’t you feel how strong our link is?/ he continued, agitated. His grip tightened on her slightly. /And the damage might be permanent…/

She shifted in his arms. “I don’t feel damaged,” she said.

“Gohan…” he started, and now irritation had begun to creep into his voice.

She sighed, and pulled away so that she could look at him. Now he felt concern and a bit of warm fondness at his paranoia. “I’m not hurt,” she pointed out.

/I can’t shut down the link without causing you pain,/ he thought at her.

The expression on her face grew solemn. “Do you want to?” she asked, and there was something there… an uncertainty, a fragileness… insecurity welled up from her. It took him a moment to figure out that it was a fear of rejection.

“No, of course not,” he replied quickly, but he was lying in part. If he was to be permanently attached to her, it would be difficult to keep his thoughts to himself. Being able to think for himself was very important to him, especially since from birth he had someone else’s drives and ambitions given to him. Not to mention the two extra sets of thoughts and memories he had acquired since then…

Understanding dawned on her face. “Privacy,” she said out loud, sounding a bit sheepish. He felt her chagrin that she hadn’t realized that before. “You don’t want me in your head permanently all the time,” she nodded and gave him a little smile. “I understand.”

He was silent for a moment. “Can you block it on your end?” he asked.

She inspected him for a long moment, searching his face, then she sighed and nodded. “I’ll try,” she said. He felt her concentrate and the link wavered, just a bit as she tried to mentally force it closed. He could feel her mentally retreat, the feelings growing weak and distant and then she let out a small sharp cry. She stiffened in his arms briefly, before letting her breath out with a woosh and slumping forwards. The link flared and went back to being strong and steady again.

“I can’t do it,” she admitted. He could feel it had hurt her to even try.

He may have set Vegeta on her, but he had a sinking suspicion he had caused more damage to her than Vegeta had by far. He winced. “I’m sorry, I never intended to…”

She cut him off. “I know, It’s okay,” she said. She paused, her brow knit as she thought. “Try to block it on your side again,” she said.

/Are you sure?/ he thought back at her. He didn’t want to cause her pain again. She nodded and steeled herself.

This was a bad idea. He hesitated. When she mentally nudged him he sighed and shut down the link again. Just like the first time she seized up, stiffening in his arms. She amazingly stayed still for a good ten seconds, then twenty, her breathing speeding up, teeth clenched. She didn’t say anything as the seconds ticked away, just sat there with her eyes squeezed shut and her brow furrowed. When she started to shake he removed the block voluntarily, unwilling to cause her pain any longer, greatly distressed that he had.

She relaxed, breathing heavily, then reacted quickly to his anguish, wrapping her arms around him. With the reopened link the warmth was back, the love and concern. “Don’t,” she said against his chest. “Shh, don’t, it’s okay,” she continued.

He wasn’t sure if he deserved her care and concern, after what he had done to her…

“Which you didn’t do on purpose,” she grumbled affectionately at him. /We’ll figure something out,/ she continued. /Maybe it just takes practice,/ she added hopefully.

He didn’t share her optimism and thought as much.

She groaned. “And I thought I worried a lot,” she said ruefully. She reached up, running her hand down the side of his face before leaning up and kissing him on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said with a smile. She didn’t elaborate on that as she pushed away from him and climbed to her feet. She stood steady for a moment, then drew a deep breath, before turning her head to look back down at him. “Do you guys have anything to eat around here?” she asked, and her smile turned into an all out grin.

.

She ate heartily, which was a great relief, no matter how disgusting it was to watch her eat the massive quantities of food that Saiyans managed to pack away. Apparently the heat had completely broken with Vegeta’s visit, and for that he was glad. The fact that she was pregnant or soon would be was an issue, but that didn’t contain the same urgency as knowing she might die if she didn’t receive help on an immediate basis.

She had been tired after that, nearly unable to stand. He had guided her back to the room, laid her down on the bed and let her tug him in after her. She had been asleep within seconds. He remained, watching over her silently for nearly an hour, before carefully extracting himself from her and getting to his feet.

He stepped out into the quiet darkness of night, barely glancing at the vibrant stars up above before making his way to the front of the palace. It didn’t take him long to find him, he knew the palace like the back of his own hand, and Dende was predictable.

Sure enough the young God was sitting at the window seat by the front entrance, a faraway look in his eyes as he gazed out over the grounds. He frowned a bit as he took in the smaller Namekian. He knew that troubled look, and it was one of the aspects of his former job he, or rather Kami, didn’t miss. The constant strain of watching his subjects, seeing the cruelty humans could so easily inflicted on each other…

Dende sensed his presence and looked up, worried look fading into a kindly smile. "Is Gohan alright now?" he asked.

Piccolo shook his head. "I- I’m not sure," he said, and paused. The link had been reduced to a constant but level hum in the back of his head as she slept. It was a relief to escape her mind, no matter what he felt about her, but its continued presence even while she was unconscious told him he was correct as to the intensity of the bond. "I’ve done something and I don’t know if I can fix it,” he admitted.

"What is it?" Dende asked, and the worried look returned. He got to his feet.

Piccolo sighed. "I think my mind tried to fuse with Gohan's," he said with a grumble. “What we share is now no longer our normal link. I feel everything she feels and I see most of the things she thinks. I can block my side of it a little bit, but when I tried to shut down the entire thing it caused her a great deal of pain.”

There was silence as Dende processed that. "... Ah," he said finally. “How did it happen?" he asked.

“I was trying to reassure her," Piccolo replied, and understanding flooded Dende's face. It was accompanied quickly by sympathy. "I’m not sure what happened after that."

Dende looked pensive for a moment. "Saiyans possess latent telepathy, so I can see how it might happen if your minds were both connected," he said finally. "Perhaps it will fade on its own?"

Piccolo shook his head. The link wasn’t going anywhere. "Can you do anything to help?" he asked.

Dende gave him a small frown but nodded. "Lean down," he said.

Piccolo did so, allowing the small God to place a hand against his forehead. He grit his teeth briefly, not enjoying the thought of having Dende in his head, but at least he didn't have to worry about any ill effects from another Namekian. Dende’s hand glowed for a moment and he felt him shift about in his mind and forced back the feelings of discomfort. After a moment Dende pulled away and looked up at him with slightly widened eyes.

"That doesn’t look good," Piccolo remarked.

"There is a great deal of overlap between you both," Dende said finally. "I don't think I can sever the connection," he added. His solemn look faded into a small smile. "I knew you cared for Gohan,” he began gently. “But I didn’t realize you felt that deeply..."

"Save it," Piccolo growled.

Dende took that in stride, but the knowing look he leveled at Piccolo said a lot.

"I know, I get it," he grumbled. The larger Namekian shifted uncomfortably, looking away and glowering off into the distance for a bit. He then looked back at Dende. “You can’t help me,” he said. It was more of a statement than a question.

Dende shook his head slowly. “I can feel that you’re already controlling your side of the connection quite well on your own,” he said, considering. “Perhaps we can work on shielding it further without severing it. I can help you with that if you’d like. If you can block it more than you are currently… it might not be as overwhelming,” he offered.

“I would like that,” Piccolo replied. He folded his legs and sat on the ground cross-legged. He understood the unspoken elaboration of what Dende had said. A shield wouldn’t stop him from being able to feel her. Granted, he was used to reading Gohan, just from the fluctuations in her ki, and he could sense her distress in other situations. And of course they could both speak to each other mentally. But vague sensing and the occasional conversation was not the same as this… this overlapping of everything he considered to be him… this was different. Uncomfortably so.

He had a feeling he was in for a very long eight months, if not longer. He grit his teeth. The sooner he learnt how to block this the better off they’d both be.

.

She was dreaming, the flashes of images coming as if from an old film or memories from a very long time ago. She was standing in the air as a city exploded behind her, thousands dying and she laughed while it burned. The scene changed and suddenly she was plunging her hand through a soldier’s chest, blood and gore slicking her arm as she withdrew it. Another scene change and she saw a slightly older version of Goten, a determined look on his face, his tail (tail?) waving behind him as he glared at her. She held Tien’s head in her overly large hand as she hurled rocks at the boy, breaking his bones…

The scene changed again and she could see a teenaged version of her dad before her. He was writhing in agony as she drove a knee into the bleeding hole in his chest. She got off of him, then attacked again, breaking his legs as he screamed in pain. He still wouldn’t die and she felt panic rise within her. She didn’t want to die, and if she didn’t kill him, he would kill her. And suddenly she was lying, crushed and unable to move, pain radiating from every part of her body. Then her dad was smiling at her as he pushed a senzu bean past her lips.

She wanted to sit up and hug him, but instead she reacted with shock and fear, leaping back from him, utterly confused as to why she was still alive. Her dad’s friends were all staring at her and they hated her, were frightened of her… knew she was a monster.

Why had he spared her?

She woke up by degrees, the dream fading even as her mind pieced together what she had seen. It wasn’t a dream, she realized, but memories, and they had come from the person who sat next to her on the bed. She smiled and snuggled closer to him without even opening her eyes. “When did you blow up a city?” she mumbled.

She felt his shock and embarrassment. He narrowed the link quickly and some sort of mental shield slammed up so hard she winced, all his thoughts and feelings fading into background noise.

“Hey,” she protested. She rolled over onto her back and focused up at him. He was giving her an extremely wary look, his arms folded across his chest. He looked like he had just been meditating. She frowned at him, hurt that he had shut her out, then remembered the privacy thing from the day before. “Sorry,” she said out loud, a bit ashamed.

The expression on his face softened by degrees and he unfolded his arms. At the same time she felt him relax the mental block. /It’s… fine. How did you see that?/ he thought at her.

/Dreams,/ she replied. She leaned up, moved over and settled her head against his thigh. She thought about the dream, inadvertently showing him all that she had seen. She felt him wince mentally when she replayed the part where he tortured her father. The mental shield threatened to come back up again, but this time because he was ashamed.

She rolled her head so she could see him again. “It’s fine, you don’t have to shut me out,” she said gently. “I know what you did to my dad,” she had been told about the tournament battle with Piccolo when she had been a small child, before he had abducted her.

He looked surprised which turned into shock and a bit of disbelief that she wasn’t upset. That was more amusing than anything. “It’s my dad,” she pointed out. “I saw Vegeta break every bone in his body, remember?”

He didn’t remember, because he had been dead at the time. She told him without words, a memory coming to mind of her dad being crushed in the hands of a gigantic ape, screaming as his ribs cracked one by one.

It was a particularly brutal memory, and he thought as much. “Glad to know Vegeta and I have something in common,” he commented wryly, speaking out loud for the first time since she had awoke. His cynical expression fell into a more sober one and she caught a glimpse of what he was thinking about. The tournament again. More specifically the fact that her father had let him go.

It was something that troubled him.

“Why does it bother you?” she asked.

He looked surprised for a second then replied. “Your father was an idiot,” he said a bit grumpily, folding his arms across his chest again and glowering at the far wall. “Our match had nothing to do with the tournament. I could have easily killed every one of his friends with a single blast. I would have if it wasn’t for Tien’s quick thinking. The risks of letting me go were steep.”

She studied him. He had that look on his face again, the one he got when he was angry or upset about something. He definitely felt upset. She sat up again, stretching briefly and scratching her head with a yawn. “But it worked out in the end, didn’t it?” she replied earnestly. “For you and Vegeta,” she added.

“Letting Vegeta go was even more foolish than I,” Piccolo replied and he was very serious now. She saw his memories of the volatile Saiyan on Namek… how Piccolo knew that Vegeta could and planned to turn on them without a second thought. How if the fight with Frieza had gone any differently, or if Vegeta had gotten his wish for immortality, he expected that they all would have been killed in short order. “That was a terrible gamble, and your father knew it.”

She frowned, distressed. It was… odd to see the events of Namek from another’s perspective. Even back then she felt Vegeta had been different even if he didn’t act like it… and even if he himself didn’t know it yet. But maybe she had been the only one to see that he had the potential to be good back then, or maybe she only saw Vegeta in a different light because she had been a child.

Piccolo looked at her suddenly, and the expression on his face changed again to a gentler one. He reached out to her, grasping her shoulder. /I know you like to think of the best of people, and I know Vegeta is different than the way he was before,/ he thought at her.

It was an offered truce, a chance to drop the subject. She smiled and accepted, moving towards him, curling up against his side.

She was thinking now, her mind playing over the events of the day before, how Vegeta had acted. He might have been selfish and self-serving once but he had treated her with kindness the day before… he hadn’t needed to do that. And then her mind went to the part where he had kissed her, how it made her breathless, how an odd thrill went through her…

Piccolo shifted suddenly, and cleared his throat. Belatedly she remembered he could “see” her thoughts.

“Oh, sorry,” she said, turning her head to look up at him. She flushed at the uncomfortable look on his face. “I forgot,” she said with utter embarrassment. She pushed off of him and sat back against the wall, biting her lip as she looked away. “I’m sure you don’t want to think about Vegeta kissing anyone,” she said finally.

“It’s not at the top of my list of things to think about, no,” he replied. He gave her a reproachful glare and she laughed at the look on his face. When she stopped and looked at him again she found that he was studying her now, intently, his expression unreadable.

“What is it?” she asked.

He frowned, just a bit. Suddenly he shifted so that he was closer, and reached out towards her. He traced the side of her face with a clawed finger. “I don’t want…” he paused. “I don’t want you to stop thinking about things because you’re afraid I’ll see it,” he said quietly. “That includes Vegeta, or anything else,” he paused before continuing. “Promise me that you won’t let this change you.” There was a hint of desperation in his voice that she very rarely heard from him.

Her brow knit briefly. “I… okay,” she replied. When he looked skeptical she continued. “I promise.” His eyes searched her face, then he seemed to decide with a small nod.

He went to pull away from her again she made a small noise of protest.

He paused. The look on his face became more curious than anything as he studied her. At the same time her mind had returned to that kiss, and a faint flush rose to her cheeks. She couldn’t seem to push the image out of her head and now she was now hyper aware of how close he was to her, how close his mouth was to hers…

And then understanding flooded his features. He got it.

He seemed to consider for a moment, then reached behind her head, hand combing through her hair briefly before tugging her forwards. Her breath caught and she went without any resistance. He paused when his face was inches from her own, contemplated her for a moment more, giving her the chance to break away if she wanted to…

When she didn’t he closed the gap, pressing his lips to hers, very gently, almost cautiously.

She groaned and kissed him back, hard, hands grasping his shoulders and pulling him towards her. He opened his mouth to hers, letting her take control for a while. He surprised her when he reared up suddenly, arm snaking around her waist as he held her in place, kissing her back with skill that he hadn’t had before. She wondered vaguely if he had learned how to do this from her memories, and then decided she didn’t care, it felt too good and she made a sharp needy sound in the back of her throat, her hands fisting in his shirt…

And then her dad decided to wink into existence behind her.

They both froze. Piccolo actually physically recoiled from her, dropping her abruptly, and at the same time she turned about. “Dad!” she gasped.

Goku stood halfway across the room from them, his fingers still pressed to his forehead from teleporting. He looked like he had been about to greet them but he stopped. A look of complete and utter confusion developed on his face.

“It’s not what you think!” Gohan blurted out, and the instant she said it she felt it was a stupid thing to say. It was exactly what he might or did think it was and by calling attention to it just made it worse.

Goku blinked at her. For once her dad actually looked speechless.

/Gohan,/ Piccolo spoke in her head sharply. He was agitated, she realized, and that agitation wasn’t aimed at her. His eyes narrowed as he got to his feet. He pulled her up with him, and drew her behind himself. “Goku,’’ he greeted, his calm voice a contrast to the swirling thoughts Gohan could feel from him. Those thoughts ranged from why was he here, what did he want, to would he still want Gohan, and would he have to defend her, at least give her time to get away if she wanted… he was prepared for the worst, slipping into a defensive stance. There was nothing in his head that was concerned with the fact that her dad had just “walked” in on them kissing …

/That’s not important right now,/ Piccolo thought at her irritably, picking up on her thoughts. Gohan looked at him. She could feel the wary tension pouring off of him in waves and as she watched a clawed hand tightened into a fist.

“Hey, wait,” Gohan began, her embarrassment forgotten as she looked between her dad and Piccolo with wide eyes. /You’re not going to fight are you?/

Piccolo didn’t reply, though she knew the answer through their connection. He would if he had to… she shot a desperate look at her dad.

Goku caught the look and reacted for the first time since arriving. He relaxed visibly, then smiled and laughed, scratching the back of his head as he did so. “Sorry!” he said cheerfully. “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he waved his hands about then gave them both a warm smile. “I came to check on you, Gohan,” he said, directing that at her. He paused, then inhaled and brightened considerably. “You’re better!” he exclaimed, relaxing more. “Are you okay?”

Piccolo relaxed as well, and she could feel the overwhelming relief coming from him. She gave her former teacher a wide-eyed look, then turned back to her dad. “I – I’m okay,” Gohan managed. “I’m good actually.”

Goku let out sigh of relief and grinned. She smiled back tentatively.

Piccolo reached out to her, pressing a hand to her upper arm, urging her forwards just a bit. /You should go to him,/ Piccolo told her.

Gohan’s smile dropped a bit and she hesitated. /I – I don’t really want to,/ she thought back at him. Even though her dad wasn’t looking at her the way he had back in the lab, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to approach him quite yet.

At that thought she felt Piccolo’s hand twitch, claws curling in protectively around her arm for half a second.

She felt it, Goku saw it, his eyes dropping to where Piccolo had his hand against her. He looked up again, the happy relieved expression on his face becoming somewhat confused again. “Gohan,” he began. “If you’re better, we can go home now if you want,” he said, though Gohan could hear the doubt in his voice.

“Just a second, Dad,” Gohan replied. She turned back to Piccolo.

/You should go,/ Piccolo said again, sternly.

/I don’t want to!/ Gohan replied fiercely, glaring at him. /I want to stay here with you./

She wondered why he felt guilty about that. /What..?/ she began.

He turned on her swiftly, grasping her by both her shoulders. /You’re safe now,/ he told her, calmly and deliberately. /There’s nothing more I can do for you,/ he paused and she could see his wince at her distress. She desperately tried to push it back, but it all came back to the same thing. He wanted her to go, he didn’t want her…

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said out loud now, looking like he had just seen or experienced something distasteful. /Gohan, you need to go back down there. I can’t help you with this,/ and she knew he was speaking about the fact that she was inevitably going to be carrying a baby. /You need to be with your friends and family and people who CAN help you,/ he let out a slightly audible growl. /I’m not going anywhere, when everything’s done I’ll still be here./ When she still looked upset he raised his hand and pressed it to the top of her head. /I’ll still BE here,/ he thought at her and she could see then… he wanted her stay but he also wanted what was best for her, and what was best for her wasn’t up here with him. She was certain then, that he would have sent her away eventually anyway.

She understood, it made sense, she had to face other people, her family and Vegeta. And other things she had completely forgotten about in the chaos of the last couple weeks, like Videl, and high school and… ugh.

/I don’t want to do this,/ she said honestly.

/Nevertheless, you must. And if anyone can get though this, you can,/ he replied, and she felt he completely believed that she could. He held a profound amount of confidence her strength and tenacity.

She was quiet for a moment. She didn’t feel particularly strong right then. /When everything’s done, can I come back?/ she asked, almost timidly.

He hesitated and that hurt almost as much as the fact that he wanted her to leave in the first place. /If you wish,/ he replied quickly. /Decide later,/ he added, his mind voice leaving no room for argument.

She frowned as she inspected him, then reached up, going up on her tip toes as she wrapped her arms around his neck. /Gohan?/ he questioned gently. He started when she pressed her lips to his. /Gohan, your father is right there!/ he exclaimed at her, flustered.

/Don’t care,/ she replied and right at that very instant she couldn’t care less if the world was crumbling around her. Hell, it felt a bit like it was. Her entire focus narrowed into the kiss and she put everything she had into it.

Now it was his turn to be embarrassed, even as he reluctantly kissed her back. His mind was very aware of the fact that Goku was staring at them currently, and how this looked really bad. He let the kiss continue for a couple more seconds, then he placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her ever so slightly, urging her to break away. She did, not really wanting to, setting herself back down on the floor and slowly letting him go. She caught the sideways glance he shot at her dad. She turned her head to look at him too. Goku looked like… like he still didn’t know what was going on and what he did know he wasn’t sure if he particularly liked it. As soon as he saw both were staring at him he managed an unsure smile.

“Gohan, I thought you said you were feeling better,” Goku said quietly.

Gohan nodded. “I am,” she said with absolute conviction. Piccolo mentally groaned at her.

/It’s okay,/ she thought at him, reassuringly. /I kissed you, not the other way around./

/Just get going before he changes his mind about letting me live,/ Piccolo shot back at her darkly.

/He wouldn’t, and I won’t let him,/ Gohan replied impudently and she got the equivalent of a mental eye roll from Piccolo.

/Just go./ he returned at her, kinder this time. He reached out, put his hand on her back and pushed her forwards.

Gohan sighed as she walked the rest of the way towards her dad, smile fading with every step she took. “So… home, then?” she asked.

Goku looked at her and gave his head a little shake. “Uh, yeah. Yes,” he gave Piccolo one last long look, then he held out his hand. “Come on, I’ll teleport us back.”

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Thursday Morning