The one who awakened slid out of the bed he'd been sleeping in, dressed himself and sat down next to the other bed, staring at the decrepit shape lying between the sheets. The other was obviously still asleep, snoring softly.

The light of the sun finally caught on the aged green skin of the figure who was awake. Despite his age, Piccolo still wore the same gi, turban, shoulderpads and cape. Though he was older than Kami, he didn't quite look as aged. Some of the natural folds on his face and around his lips had deepened, and the pink patches on his body had darkened to a dull yellow-brown. He had lost a little weight, but not enough to make him look like a stick, and he still trained whenever he could.

Moving on, the sunlight fell across the pale skin of the form still sleeping in bed. Gohan's hair had thinned but was still black, his features all looked slightly droopy and almost half of his adult body-weight had been lost; he looked almost like he did as a teenager, but internally he was like a very old man. Because he was half-human rather than full Saiyan, he was aging as normally as any human would.

Piccolo sighed to himself as he reached down and brushed his fingers through Gohan's fine hair. Even still, he still saw Gohan as the little boy he had been when they first met. He had seen him suffer through countless losses, injuries and humiliations. Piccolo suffered them along with Gohan, in his heart.

"Is dad still asleep?" Pan came walking in. She had grown to become quite a lovely woman, with a few gray streaks in her long black hair. She usually kept it in a bun or braided, so it was out of the way.

Piccolo replied, "Yes."

Pan nodded her thanks, walked to the bed and gently shook Gohan's shoulder, "Dad? Rise and shine. Your breakfast is here." She smiled into his eyes when he awoke and looked at her with a small smile. "Piccolo's here too."

Gohan's eyes slowly shifted to look up at Piccolo, and his smile widened a little. Because of age, his mind had done some strange changes, perhaps even a slight insanity from suffering so much grief at once in his life. One of the changes had left him seeming almost childlike, the way Goku was. "Hey...Mr. Piccolo..." He yawned slightly as he was helped into a sitting position so he could eat his breakfast.

"Hey, kid." Piccolo kept up the pretense. He wrinkled his nose at the sight of the oatmeal and milk, his head turning as he found something interesting to look at outside. Watching Gohan eat wasn't too pleasant, but Pan seemed to take it in stride. Piccolo couldn't help but notice that her smile resembled ChiChi's.

ChiChi herself had been in a condition like Gohan's when she passed away. Gohan had watched her fade away, just like Piccolo was watching him fade away. Piccolo could remember how, the day ChiChi died, Gohan had cried inconsolably in his arms for hours.

Losing Videl to illness only months later was probably the last straw for his grieving mind. Piccolo had to force him to train for a long time, only to discover that he'd been refusing because of an eating disorder. It had taken years to get him over that, and during that time, he and Gohan grew closer than they had ever been before. The most interesting part of that time was probably when a casual, curious touch had led to some rather...intimate...activity, but that had been years ago.

"That was good! You ate almost half of it that time." Pan's voice woke Piccolo from his reverie. He turned his glittering black eyes sideways to see Pan cleaning some of the oatmeal away from Gohan's mouth. Like a fussy young boy, Gohan kept trying to turn his face away to avoid being mothered. He looked towards Piccolo like 'help!'.

Rumbling in half-amusement, half-annoyance, Piccolo spoke to Pan. "Go take a break. Lemme handle this." Pan handed Piccolo the napkin, and he carefully, but not all too gently, cleaned Gohan up.

"Thanks a lot, Piccolo." Pan flashed Piccolo her smile again, then laid out some clothes so Gohan could get dressed if he wanted to. "He will need a hand with those pants, so don't let him try to put them on by himself or he'll fall over."

"I got it, Pan." Piccolo rumbled, getting a little annoyed. She reacted by giving him the same goo-goo eyed look that Gohan used to give him. Then she laughed softly and went into the other room to wash the dishes. The green man sighed to himself, turning to face the half-Saiyan. Gohan was in the process of trying to get his shirt on, and Piccolo watched him struggle until he succeeded. "At least you still don't give up..."

"You taught me that, Mr. Piccolo." Gohan flashed a lopsided smirk while Piccolo helped him get his pajama bottoms off and his trousers on.

Exactly five minutes later, Piccolo was pushing a wheelchair that contained Gohan's smallish form down the path towards the forest. They did this every day, going out to sit in the sun. It was almost the only thing Gohan could do anymore; his age had made it impossible for him to train. Whatever powers he still had were useless, and trying to use them in this state would probably kill him instantly.

Gohan jabbered endlessly while Piccolo, as usual, tuned him out so he could relax and meditate. That is, until he heard Gohan say the word 'die'. The Namek's eyes snapped open and his head lifted, "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on, Mr. Piccolo. You and I both know that I'm at the end of my rope. I don't have a lot of time." Gohan's lip started to quiver and his face flushed slightly, "It scares me..."

"Gohan," Piccolo got up, moving with the same loping grace that he always possesed, and walked around behind the wheelchair. He placed his hands on Gohan's shoulders, bent down and started to whisper into his ear. "I've made one promise to you. You were asleep when I said it. I told you not to worry, that I wouldn't let anything happen to you. And now, I have another promise that I would like to make..." The rest of his words were too quiet to be heard by anyone other than Gohan.

From the kitchen window, Pan watched the two. She saw Gohan's shocked expression as well as Piccolo's seriousness before the two shared a brief kiss and embrace. Having accepted their rather spiritual and intimate relationship years ago, the kiss did not phase her. In fact, she smiled. Piccolo sure cares for him... she thought, I wish people wouldn't be so afraid of him. But I guess a reputation is hard to change.

The sky had clouded over and rain was threatening to fall. Gohan was taking a nap and Piccolo was pacing around outside, his mind too full for training. Even he was beginning to feel the affects of age; his reflexes were a little bit off, and sometimes his joints would ache in extremely cold weather. At the moment, the biggest thing on the Namek's mind was what Gohan had said about dying. He had been right and Piccolo knew it.

So many years of bottling his emotions were getting to him, and the thought of losing his beloved seemed too painful to bear. "No! You're stronger than this!" Piccolo muttered fiercely to himself, forcing back the tears. The urge returned stronger, and again, he forced it down. He struggled with himself for several minutes, clenching his fists until his palms were bleeding, his entire body trembling as he tried not to cry with all his might.

"Piccolo?"

Losing his concentration due to startlement, Piccolo whirled around to face Pan. His cape rustled in agitation from the sudden movement, then calmly settled again against his back. That split second of diversion was all the tears in his eyes needed to make their escape. Piccolo growled and wiped them away, just as the first drops of rain landed on his regal-looking brow ridges.

Pan, frowning with concern, stepped closer to the tall green alien. "Are you OK?"

Piccolo swiftly turned his back to Pan and snapped, "I'm fine!" As soon as he spoke, he bit his lower lip and closed his eyes as raindrops started to land on his emerald skin more steadily. It was soon impossible to tell if it was rain or tears blazing trails down his angular cheeks.

She frowned slightly as a few rain drops ran off her hair and landed on her shoulders. "I don't believe you."

The Namek turned his head, to avoid looking at her. His emotions were running out of control; it wouldn't be long before they would burst free.

Moving closer, Pan gently placed her hand on the back of Piccolo's neck. "Don't hold the pain in, Piccolo." She pulled him into a hug, which he didn't resist. "Come on, there's nothing to hide here...just cry. They're only tears and they're made of the same thing as the rain."

"No..." Piccolo shook his head violently, but this was a battle that he had long since lost. "I..." The lump in his throat seemed to intensify the flow of warm tears from his eyes, and when he felt that, he seemed to finally give in. Letting his arms fall to his sides, he relaxed as the sobs wracked his body. "No..." He kept whispering. All the pain, all the anger and hidden emotion he had kept locked away his whole life just flooded from heart with his tears.

"Shh, it's OK. Let it all out..." Pan took it all in stride by holding the Namek gently, rocking him back and forth as his tears soaked into the collar of her shirt. As long as she had known him, she had never seen him as vulnerable and fragile as he was now.

Without disturbing him, she guided him inside, sat down with him on the couch and continued to hold him until his sobs had quieted. Piccolo didn't move after falling silent, and Pan realized by his even breathing that he had cried himself to sleep in her arms. She looked down at his sleeping face, wiped his tears away and settled him on the couch so he could rest. She even bent down to place a soft kiss on his forehead on that spot just above where his brow ridges met, then covered him with a blanket and left him alone to sleep.

Poor guy, she thought to herself, he's probably going to outlive us all. He'll be all alone...

Later on that night, Piccolo was awakened by thunder clapping overhead. It was so loud that the dishes in the cabinet were rattling and the windows were shaking. He heard a moan, immediately knew it was coming from Gohan's room and rushed to see what was causing him such distress.

"Gohan?" Piccolo found Gohan on the floor in the bedroom, and smelled the musky scent of urine. He flicked on the light to find Gohan sitting on the floor in a growing puddle, sobbing. "Gohan? What happened?"

"I had to go and I tried to get up and do it on my own...but I fell and it just started to come out!" Gohan covered his face in shame as his sobs drowned out the subtle trickling sound coming from underneath his pajamas.

"It's OK." The Namek moved quickly to the half-Saiyan's side and touched his shoulder, "Are you finished?"

Gohan waited for several seconds, probably so his bladder could finish emptying, before slowly nodding with a soft sniffle. Piccolo lifted him up, carried him into the bathroom and started to run the bath. Gohan did everything he could to get out of his wet clothes as fast as possible, refusing to look Piccolo in the eye because he was so humiliated. He let his longtime friend, mentor and, yes, even lover, place him into the warm water.

Because the half-Saiyan was so upset, Piccolo spread the soap all over his lower body and cleaned everything off for him. It wasn't like they could do anything, even if they wanted to; Gohan was just too old for that now. The special feelings between them were enough, however. After all, their love was much deeper than any kiss or lovemaking could reach.

Leaving Gohan to soak in the warm water, Piccolo went into the bedroom and dug up some clean pajamas. He got the half-Saiyan out of the tub and managed to get him to put his own pajamas on, then got him back into bed.

"Gohan, hey. Are you gonna be OK?" He asked.

Nodding his head, Gohan yawned and smiled sleepily up at the handsome green face by his bed, "You're a great guy, Mr. Piccolo." He took one of Piccolo's hands, placed it over his heart and held it there as he fell asleep. Being in that position left the Namek wondering when that throbbing beneath his palm would suddenly cease.

Piccolo's eyes brimmed with tears, but none fell as he slowly slid his hand away from Gohan's chest and whispered, "So are you, Gohan...so are you." His eyes closed, more to avoid letting the tears escape than anything else, and an unbidden memory of the time when Gohan had given him a hug for the first time came to mind. The memory brought a smile to his face as his tears drained away.

Months seemed to pass like days. Summer became Autumn, Autumn became Winter, and Winter became Spring.

Gohan, now almost completely bedridden, had been in and out of the hospital several times. Once for a heart attack, three times for a suspected stroke that was found negative and several more times for pneumonia. The poor man's mind seemed to slip further and further away with each passing day. Out of all the people he knew, the only person he ever really recognized anymore was Piccolo, and sometimes he'd even call him other names like 'Nail', 'Dende' or 'Kami'. He often called Pan 'mom'.

"Mm-mm." Gohan turned his head away from the offering of soup and coughed. "I'm not hungry anymore mom..."

"Please? Just another bite?" Pan begged, still holding the spoon near Gohan's tightly-closed mouth. He sighed, opened his mouth just enough for her to dump in the soup, then swallowed while she smiled. "Good job. I'll save the rest for later. Maybe Piccolo will...oh wait, he doesn't eat. Silly me." She carried the bowl out and left it by the sink to be dealt with later.

"How is he?" Piccolo's deep and raspy voice spoke from the shadows. He had been so quiet and so still that his sudden presence nearly scared Pan right out of her skin.

"Oh!"

He just smirked. I guess I still got it, heh.

"I don't know anymore, Piccolo. Some days, he's right with it and others, he's totally not with it." She tucked some loose black hairs back into the bun on the back of her head. "I think he's getting sick again too. His temperature is up and..." Her head inclined as she lifted her gaze to look him in the face, "Should I call a doctor? Or take him to the hospital?"

Piccolo heaved a sigh and closed his eyes for a moment of contemplation. He knew that Gohan hated hospitals, always had ever since that first time when Goku had been in there after the fight with the Saiyans. "Call a doctor. Its less trouble to do that than it is to pack Gohan into the car and drive him there."

Pan nodded and headed to the phone. Piccolo swept his cape back and turned to the door, but spoke over his shoulder before he left, "I'm going to go meditate and train for awhile. If the doc comes before I'm back, come tell me what he says. I won't be far."

She nodded again, so Piccolo left and headed a short ways into the valley.

Two hours later, the orange-haired doctor from the hospital was packing away his instruments while Gohan slept soundly between the sheets on the bed. "Pan? May I speak to you in the living room?" Pan nodded, giving Gohan a brief kiss on the cheek before finally heading into the living room. The doctor came out a few moments later and began to speak with her in hushed tones. "The pneumonia's back..."


Quando sei lontana
sogno all'orizzonte
e mancan le parole,
e io si lo so
che sei con me, con me,
tu mia luna tu sei qui con me,
mio sole tu sei qui con me,
con me, con me, con me.

The valley was silent, save for the occasional whisper of wind, the click of an insect and crackling noises from the small campfire that had been lit near the face of a tall cliff. Not far from the campfire, there was a waterfall and a tall, naked green form standing beneath it.

Standing under a waterfall always helped Piccolo to relax as well as ease some of the early-warning symptoms of arthritis in his neck and shoulders. His shower was cut short, however, when he sensed an approaching power. Knowing already that it was Pan, the tall Namek stepped out of the waterfall and reached for his clothes.

Pan politely waited for Piccolo to finish dressing before she landed. Her face offered no clues as to what the doctor had told her, so the Namek crossed his arms, fixed her under his unsettling gaze, silently urging her to hurry up and say something.

Pan's mouth opened and closed silently a few times before she got her voice to come out, "The pneumonia's back and..." she lowered her head as tears started to roll down her cheeks like dewdrops falling from a rose petal, "...the doctor doesn't think he'll make it through the night..."

Maybe it was coincidence, or a symbol of what was happening inside the tall Namek's heart, but whatever it was made the wind blow right at that moment. The gust was a powerful one, shaking dirt off the side of the cliff as it howled. The agitated dirt rained down, snuffing out the campfire.

Piccolo felt his heart give a little lurch, but he didn't allow the shock to show on his face. He lowered his head instead, "I see..." His gaze lifted again to find Pan crying, and he remembered what she had done for him. Extending a slender hand, Piccolo drew Pan close and hugged her awkwardly while she cried into one of his white shoulderpads. The whole time, he stared straight ahead.

"I don't know what to do anymore...what should I do?" She sobbed softly.

"Have you said any goodbyes?"

Nodding, Pan wiped stray tears from her cheeks as her sobs came back under control. "While he was asleep, yes. I know he heard me because he cried in his sleep while I was speaking to him."

The tall Namek laid a hand on her shoulder and looked down into her eyes with extreme seriousness, "Then the best you can do is be with him when he needs you." He sighed slightly and moved his hand away once again, but Pan caught it before he could allow it to drop to his side.

"What about you, Piccolo?" She asked, squeezing his hand once before releasing it. "Aren't you going to tell him goodbye?"

Piccolo flashed his brief, lopsided smirk as the wind caught his cape and caused it to rustle like curtains hanging over an open window, "Yeah, when the timing's right, I will. Go back to him now. I'll be there in a little while."

Pan turned, black hair shimmering in the moonlight as she prepared to fly away. "See you soon."

"Hey, Pan?"

"Yeah?" She looked over her shoulder at him, waiting for him to finish.

"Thanks...for everything." Piccolo finished, turning to show that had nothing more to say and that he intended to offer no clues as to what he meant. Pan just shook her head, gathered her ki and flew away, leaving the Namek alone in the darkness. He watched her fly away for a few seconds, then tilted his head back and gazed up at the stars as his mind drifted to a final memory of what happened when he and Gohan performed the act of ultimate intimacy.

After spending over an hour in very intense meditation, Piccolo knew he couldn't delay himself any longer. He didn't want to admit that he was afraid, but he was. Death had always been an annoyance in the past, something that could be undone with the drop of a hat.

Now Gohan was dying, and no magic Dragons, no Dragon Balls and no amount of tears could prevent it.

Piccolo left the valley with a heavy heart and flew towards the Son residence. He made no sound when he landed, and slipped into the house through a window with the skills of a ninja, just as he had done when he'd scared Pan out of her skin. Closing the window he'd climbed through, Piccolo tip-toed into the living room where Pan was sitting on the couch, reading a book.

"Pan?"

The pages of the book rustled as Pan nearly jumped up and clung to the ceiling like Garfield. "Piccolo! Why do you always do that!?"

Ignoring her outburst, he asked, "How is Gohan?"

"Still alive, but it's not pretty..." She shook her head with a sigh as she plopped the book down on the end of the couch. "He's been asking for you."

The tall green man nodded his head slowly, drawing his lips into a straight line across the bottom of his face as he turned without another word and headed into the room where Gohan was resting. He stopped at the foot of the bed, presenting himself in his most commanding pose with his arms crossed tightly across his muscular chest and his legs spread a shoulder's length apart. The stance lasted only a moment, because seconds later, Piccolo was moving around to stand at the side of the bed.

Gohan awoke when a soft kiss was placed on his forehead and lips. "Dende?" The aged half-Saiyan murmured when the warmth retreated again. His eyes drifted open in time to see the Namek removing his turban and cape. "Oh wait...it's you Mr. Piccolo. What are you still doing awake?"

Piccolo silenced him by placing a slender finger to his lips. "Don't worry about me, Gohan. You just rest."

"I'm scared..." Gohan looked as if he was going to say more, but his emotions won over his voice. The only other thing he managed to say was, "Please...stay with me...don't leave me alone..." he began to cry softly into the pillow. His soft sobs were muffled by his hands as they rose to cover his face.

Moving silently, Piccolo moved the bedsheets and climbed into the bed with Gohan, then pulled the covers back up again. He put his arms around the sobbing man, bringing him close in a protective embrace. One of his slender green hand came to rest on the back of Gohan's head, while his other arm wrapped around to keep him safe and warm. He lowered his head slowly, burying the lower half of his face in half-Saiyan's hair, whispering softly, "I'm here now, Gohan...right here next to you." Piccolo started to stroke Gohan's hair as he kissed him gently, "Right here is where I'll stay." His black eyes brimmed with glistenig tears.

The moment the warmth of Piccolo's arms wrapped around him, Gohan felt safe. It took a few moments for his sobs to quiet and for his tears to stop falling. But when they did, he tilted his head to find Piccolo looking down at him with glittering eyes. He reached up, touched the Namek's warm, slightly wrinkled cheek with the back of his hand. Then he buried his face against Piccolo's neck while his arm moved to wrap around his waist. "I can hear your heart..." He coughed slightly as he stroked the throbbing area on the Namek's chest and kissed it, then pressed his ear against it once again, speaking groggily in a very childlike manner, "It's such a beautiful heart..." A sleepy smile crept across Gohan's lips as his eyes drifted shut. Within seconds, he was sound asleep again.

Pressing a gentle kiss into Gohan's hair as he carefully drew his fingers through it, Piccolo stared into nothingness for several minutes while listening to the man in his arms breathe. Each breath was soft and slow, like a countdown to the inevitable. It was only a matter of time before those soft sounds would fall silent.

Piccolo settled both arms around Gohan for a moment before his hand returned to stroke his hair. "Don't worry kid...I won't let anything happen to you. I promise..." The Namek whispered as he pulled his beloved protectively closer, just to show his love, then closed his eyes and nestled his cheek against his soft hair. "I promise..."

They breathed together in unison, inhaling and exhaling softly in the dim light of the stars. As the night wore on, the sounds of breathing softened until a sigh broke the silence.

And the duet of gentle breathing became a solo.

The light of the rising sun streamed through the windows as birds started to sing. Pan awoke slowly when a sliver of sunlight shined through a crack in the curtains and onto her eyes. She blinked sleepily at her surroundings before realizing that she'd slept the whole night.

Practically leaping off the couch, Pan rushed into the bedroom, stopping at the door. "Oh..." She whispered, not sure whether to cry or smile at the precious sight she saw being illuminated by golden rays of sun coming through the window. Her attention was so focused on the bed that she failed to notice the white dove and white butterfly that had perched on the windowsill.

Piccolo was lying on his right side with his chin nestled against the top of Gohan's head, there was a soft smile present on his lips and one of his antennae was lying delicately against his lover's forehead. His right hand was lying open behind the half-Saiyan's head, having gone limp and slipped free of the soft dark locks during the night. The other arm was wrapped protectively around his shoulders, holding him close.

Gohan, lying on his left side, was pressed close to Piccolo with his slightly smiling face buried up against his neck. Both of his arms were wrapped loosely around the Namek's waist, though his left hand was lying limp and open on the wrinkled bedsheets.

Moving silently, Pan tip-toed to the left side of the bed and noticed right away that Gohan was no longer breathing. He hadn't been dead for very long because, except for his lips, eyelids and fingertips, his skin hadn't lost any of it's peach color.

She brushed her hand against his slightly cool cheek with a trembling lower lip, "Sleep tight, dad..."

After straightening again, Pan reached over to grab Piccolo's muscular shoulder to wake him up, but her hand jerked back as soon as she touched his skin. His skin was ice cold, even though he'd been under the covers during the whole night.

Trembling all over as tears started to run down her face, Pan laid one hand on Piccolo's cheek and the other on Gohan's cheek. Piccolo's skin was colder than Gohan's, which meant he had been dead the longest. She realized it had probably happened less than an hour after he'd arrived to see her father the night before.

He'd kept his promise after all.

"Oh, Piccolo...bless your heart..." The realization of Piccolo's promise struck her full force. She leaned over the bed and embraced them both as powerful sobs shook her frame. "Oh, God...Dad...Piccolo..."

The white dove on the windowsill looked down at the butterfly with patient black eyes. It ruffled it's wings, flapped once and took off with a soft coo. The white butterfly took off seconds later, following the dove into the sky. Both disappeared into the golden glare of the morning sun.

~*~*~*~Translation~*~*~*~

You and me.

-- "Time to Say Goodbye", performed by Andrea Bocelli and Sarah Brightman.