Dragon Ball Z Never Alone Again

**I became inspired after writing so many scenes on Namek for _Finding Rubble from Rubies_. It's definitely bitter-sweet, taking place right after that first destruction of Planet Namek, the one leaving Guru as the sole survivor. And thank you, J.W. Appel, for telling me the name of the blossoming trees. I am ever grateful. =)  
**

Guru guided himself along the cave with a hand against its rocky walls, his vision kicking in. It was rare that Namekians were forced to use their ability to see in the dark, seeing as Namek was a planet of three suns, but now was a time to be thankful for this small ability. His heart was heavy, knowing that when he reached the end of the cave, his eyes would meet a horrid sight.

The young Namekian saw the end of the tunnel, forcing him to blink back the urge to turn around. The white light emitted from the cave's mouth was blinding, but he pressed on, his eyes adjusting once more to the bright planet and its surroundings. He clenched his teeth in pain, climbing up the slight incline with all of his power. He didn't want to see the destruction done to the beautiful planet, but the urge to assure that everybody else was find pushed him on.

He was about to reach the cave opening, only able to see an ethereal white from where he was, before he heard a faint voice echo through the cave. "Guru..." it groaned, pain radiating from it. Guru grimaced, having been hesitant to leave his friend behind. He had rescued Katas after a boulder had fallen on his legs, carrying him with difficulty into this large cave. And he had carried him a long way, deep under sea level in hopes that the cave would not collapse on them during this catastrophe. And to their fortune, it hadn't.

But Guru didn't want to turn around just yet, even though his friend's voice called him to do so. With a certain hoarseness, simply glad that he was still conscious after hours of waiting, Guru called, "I'll be back, Katas." His attempt to comfort his friend resounded through the cave, allowing Guru to hear that unsteadiness in his own voice.

And the young Namekian stepped from the shadows and into the light, everything coming into sharp relief. He blinked several times, placing his pink forearm over his eyes in an attempt to shield them from the suns' rays. But as he lifted his arm away, his eyes still unfocused, he began to take in his surroundings.

For the first time in his life, Guru was at a loss for words.

He had always been an optimist, able to find the brighter side of things, but there was no bright side to this matter. No, every turn of the head he took while standing on the rocky cliff resulted in an utterance of disbelief. This planet, his planet, was destroyed. He leapt off of the clearing in the valley to soar above the surrounding mountains of rocks and rubble, unable to see anything but ruin. He couldn't leave the vicinity lest he abandon Katas, so he hovered only above the destruction, his chest heaving as he stared off towards the horizon. There was a certain haze in the air blocking his line of sight, and thus, he could only make out certain mountains out there. The sky was a putrid green, a sickness having swept over the land. Guru's shoulders dropped as he closed his eyes, unable to continue looking at the fallen planet.

It had been just that morning that his people were all going about their daily activities, tending to their duties. The warriors had been standing guard at the village entrances, finding very little work besides stopping minor quarrels. The learners were in their humble abodes, studying the past in efforts to learn from it. The gardeners were cultivating the soil, nurturing the blossoming trees that prospered through the land. And the children - Guru couldn't help but mourn for the children. They were so young, yet so intelligent. His clenched fist fell open as he hoped that nothing had happened to the younglings.

Guru shuddered slightly before opening his eyes again, deciding to try and look at it from a different perspective. He was Guru the Optimist, the one people came to in times of weakness. But here he was, too affected to be of any comfort to anybody. He had difficulty even returning to Katas, knowing that when he exited that cave once more, all he would see would be ruin.

But he forced himself to turn around, diving deeply into that cave once more in inexpert flight. It had only been recently that he had learned such a skill, and the cave's narrow width only made it more difficult to maneuver around stalactites and stalagmites. He finally reached Katas, his friend, again, who only looked worse for the wear. His skin was too green even for a Namekian, reminding Guru of the revolting fog cast over the planet after what had happened that day. Whatever had happened.

"Guru..." Katas groaned, attempting to sit up from his laying position. But he proved to weak to even do this much, the pain from his legs surging through his body. Guru knelt down gently by his fallen friend's side, taking his limp hand into his own. Then, so carefully, he squeezed Katas' hand into his own, the grip one of compassion.

He shushed his friend with a light whisper, shaking his head slightly. "Don't talk," Guru insisted, Katas looking up at him curiously as he began rubbing his veined hand. There was an expression of doubt on Guru's face, his forehead furrowed with vexation, as he muttered, "Now, I'm not exactly sure of how to do this, but..." And then his words were indistinguishable as he mumbled to himself, leaving Katas to blink in confusion.

"What are you talking about?" Katas asked slowly with concern, his voice weak. By the way his friend was acting, it didn't seem that he was very certain of himself, something strange coming from Guru. Guru was intelligent. He was wise, even at such a young age. He seemed to know everything, and to see him so weak only scared Katas. Guru was fearless, but now, with every glance he took at his lame friend, he seemed so weak. There was a child-like fear sparked in him, something that Katas had often seen in other Namekians. But never Guru.

Guru set his jaw, his eyes closed as he focused. Hardly able to concentrate on what he was saying with the intensity he was putting into transferring energy into his hands, something he had seen elders do on occasion, he replied, "I'm going to give you some of my life force."

To Guru's surprise, then, he felt Katas' hand jerk away from his own. Guru's lips parted in awe as he looked towards his friend, trying to push himself off of the floor to show his strength. Then, to offer an explanation, Katas said, "Don't waste your life on me. I'm worthless right now." And he held that same hand that Guru had just been holding out, emphasizing his mangled legs. "There's no reason to waste your life on me. I'm not worth restoring, not in this condition."

Katas' logic, however, was not enough to change Guru's mind. Leaning closer to his friend, Guru pleaded, "I have to save you." His voice was thin and brittle, something odd coming from the young and confident Namekian. "I can't just let you die, not when I have so much to give you. There's... there's nobody left, Katas. I don't know how I know, but I just do. The planet's dead and... I can't continue alone." With meekness, he urged, "I must save you. I can't be alone."

The pain in Guru's face, the sincerity of his words, almost pushed Katas. But he could not be swayed, saying, "I can't let you, Guru. You need all of your energy to fix whatever lies out there now." His chest seized as he gave a pained smile, wincing before turning his head away in shame. Then, without allowing his friend to see his weakness, the warrior rested his hand on his chest and continued, "Let me die here. I don't want to see what's become of our planet."

"Katas, you can't back out now. This planet-"

"This planet can be restored with your help," Katas interrupted his friend, tears beginning to brim in his small eyes. Images of the old Namek flew through his thoughts, thinking of those blossomed trees, the children playing, the small frogs that would hop around... He knew that his new Namek held no place in its future for him. He knew that his friend did not possess the ability to mend his injuries, and he would only become a hindrance. It was time he went. "I can't stay."

"Katas-"

"Nothing." His voice, though strained, was final. Katas rested his head back against the soft dirt of the cave, tender from having never been touched this deep in the planet. Then he jarred his head, jerking it around weakly to face Guru once more. And upon seeing his friend so distraught, so upset, Katas sighed, "Let me do you one last favor." Guru's eyes locked with his friend's, perked with interest of what the dying man might suggest. There was nothing that could satisfy Guru, nothing that Katas could promise that would repair what was broken, but he could do nothing but listen to Katas' dying words.

Katas' eyes blinked very slowly, as if he was beginning to drift into a deep slumber. "I have an egg," Katas explained promptly, Guru's mouth opening at such information, "an egg that I've been holding for a while now." His body seized up once more, his sharp teeth clenched painfully as he tried continuing, "I... I want you to have it. But you must promise me something." Guru only nodded, staring at his friend's chest in awe, where he knew the egg must have been resting. "You have to promise me to send this egg very far away."

"Wh-why?" Guru could only stutter. He knew his friend would have some small condition, because even in death, Guru knew him well enough to know that he would make him suffer. Katas was childish in such a way, always eager to bring up the hopes of somebody only to bring realization crashing down. But he couldn't see how Katas could make him such a promise as an egg, only to basically pull it away again. There had to have been something more than just friendship that pulled him to make such a decision, seeing as even Katas wouldn't do that. Not even Katas, the warrior, the carefree man he had known since birth, would withdraw from such a promise without a reason.

And Guru was correct. Katas couldn't help but grimace with slight amusement at his friend's concern as he said, "My son, whatever he may be called, needs to find himself. I do not want him to be restrained by this planet, getting stuck in the rebuilding of it. I want him, in my name, to become who he is supposed to be, not who you form him to be." And seeing the pain on his friend's face, Katas comforted him. "You will have sons of your own in due time. I'm not sure how the egg came to me, and I've been holding it for a while, uncertain of what to do with it. But the same will happen to you, I'm sure, my friend. The same will happen to you and your children, and you will never be alone again."

Guru watched his friend's contorted facial expressions, a ghost of happiness lurking. He gulped as he saw Katas' head swing back quickly, his chest compressing with great force as his breathing choked. And in both awe and fear, Guru could only watch, his friend's whole body convulsing. Then, suddenly, Katas' throat dilated to great size with pitiful, breathless sounds being uttered as he tried forcing the egg out. And, all at once, with one last squeeze of his chest, the egg shot out of his mouth and rebounded off of the wall of the cave, freeing the airway from his lungs to air again. But that wasn't necessary anymore, Guru realized, as Katas' unsteady heartbeat disappeared.

Guru's breathing also ceased as he stood up, turning away from his friend. Katas, the brave warrior who enjoyed pranks a little too much at his age, was dead. He closed his eyes, all of those images of Katas the Warrior vanishing. Now his mind's eye could only replay moments of Katas the Weak, Katas the Ruined. Just as he had seen happen to the rest of his planet, his best friend was destroyed. Visions of those twisted legs, crushed after boulders fell on them, lingered in his thoughts.

He finally brought himself to open his eyes, finding himself staring at the egg lying innocently towards the edge where cave floor connected seamlessly to form cave wall. He approached it tentatively, his clawed fingers curling within his palms as he looked over the thing. It was covered in some vile substance, gooey and translucent with a light green tinge to it. It was that same green that the skies used to be, the same green as that gentle grass he knew Katas used to lay in for hours on end, his task as a warrior not keeping him as occupied as it should have. And he realized that it was on that same grass in that same air that this egg had been conceived. Guru wasn't sure of how or why, but he knew that it had been during a time of peace, perhaps only weeks ago, that this small, shelled creature had formed inside of his friend's chest, resting at the base of his throat.

And visions of Katas the Great, Katas the Strong appeared in his mind. He had given his body up for his son, for his people. He was Katas the Noble, the Namekian to be remembered in history as selfless. And such a noble Namekian required a more noble burial than in this underground cavern, Guru knew. So, with haste and without turning an eye upon his friend's lifeless body, he picked it up, placing the egg tenderly upon it as he soared out of the cave's mouth for a final time.

He retreated from the cave, trying to get as far away from the place of death as possible. It was finally after flying for only a few minutes that he had to stop, landing rather weakly upon his knees. He couldn't see in the green fog the planet was covered in, unable to make out the rifts in the land and the eroded rocky formations. No, he simply dropped down on that soft, green grass, unable to contain his anger. Why, why did this have to happen to him? He was alone now, having already promised his one chance at company away to other creatures, far more fortunate than he. Katas' son would prosper with company, able to abandon this planet. But why couldn't he, Guru, leave?

He tugged at the grass, bound by its roots in the soil, after setting Katas' body down before him, the egg rolling off of his chest. He was kneeling in his fury and confusion as he thrust his head back, looking up at the sky with only one sun blazing down upon him. It was one sun that witnessed the destruction of the planet, and Guru knew that it would only take one man to build it back again. There was no way that he could leave the planet, already entitled to restore it. He could never leave his father, his brothers, his family. He couldn't be plucked from this soil as the blades of grass he pulled at could, able to scatter in the wind and start anew.

He was Guru. He had made a promise already to restore his planet, restore it so that his sons could enjoy it and have their own sons. He couldn't forget Katas' promise that he would never be alone again, something that he would hold dearly to him, holding his friend up to that promise.

Guru stumbled forth, back on his feet as he swept the disfigured corpse up along with the egg. Then he marched forth steadily, uncertain of where he would go. He only knew that he would keep to his promise as Katas had to keep to his. And as he walked on, his steps slow but determined, he saw something through the haze that relieved him. His heart dropped from astonishment, almost forcing him to release the two lives, one already passed and one to be born soon. But he clenched more tightly upon the egg and the body, running now as he hastened towards the dark figure in the distance.

There was an ancient blossom tree, a mighty Ajisu tree, one that the gardeners had tended to only that morning. And it remained untouched by the cataclysmic events of the day, no waves having ravished it, no winds having torn it, no lighting or fires having consumed it. It was just as the others had been, standing upright with its wide branches spread in several directions, the pink petals adorning it fluttering in the breeze. And he set the egg aside, allowing it to rest in that soft, green grass as he laid his friend's body carefully across the trunk's coarse bark. He began digging, knowing this to be the appropriate spot for his friend's grave. There was no place more beautiful, more untouched by that day's misfortune than this.

Because he wasn't a warrior, the work was long and hard as he dug past roots using his two large hands. It took time before he managed to create a hole deep enough to rest the corpse in, though it was still extremely shallow. But even with such lacking results, he still felt satisfied as he glanced from the burial site to the large blossom tree looming over it, petals drifting to the ground. And he knelt down by the grave, rare tears forming in his eyes. He may have not been a warrior, though he still cried like one. Katas would have pretended to have been disgusted by this last display of affection had he been alive, but Guru knew better. Katas joked and laughed and rarely cried. This was something worth crying over, and had Guru seen those last tears on his friend's face during his death in that cave, he would have known the man even better.

Guru tore his eyes away from the sight and stepped back. Then he scooped the white egg into his grasp, holding it in his two arms. It stuck to his shirt, still covered in the slimy residue that Katas had coughed up, but he paid no mind, even as it stained his brown vest in dark splotches. He held it tightly to his chest, bearing it protectively in his two arms. He shook his head, his chest heaving as he knew that he had a promise to fulfill, a promise he had to keep so that Katas' promise of never being alone again would be kept.

He would keep that promise. He would find a space pod still intact in one of the many villages and would send his friend's egg off to some unknown world in it. He would have a great many children, trying to restore the population that had once been sustained, bringing forth the gardeners and the warriors and the learned. And the young would frolic once again in the bright fields of soft grass, their youth protecting them from the harsh reality of the planet's past. He would watch his children have children, living a life of happiness.

But in spite of all of his efforts to keep his promise to Katas, Katas' promise was not returned. There would be times in which Guru would watch his children, naive as to the possible dangers, none of them listening to his cautions as none of them were able to remember the horrors of the planet's past. It wouldn't be until his death that he would be alone not only mentally, but physically, too, with all Namekians abandoning his side either by death or to defend their planet, the one that he had worked so hard on. But even as he would die, he would be able to thank Katas, to thank him for forcing him to uphold his promises. Because without Katas' insistence, Namek would never have prospered again.


End file.

Dragon Ball Z, Friendship