"Trunks?" Trunks winced guiltily at the sound of Pan's voice. He'd thought too late to cloak his ki, and she'd found him. He sighed and rose through the leafy canopy to meet her in the air.

"Yes?"

"We need to talk." It sounded like the usual introduction to the 'let's just be friends' lecture, but considering that's all they were to begin with…Trunks shrugged.

"Fine. Talk." A look of frustration crossed Pan's face.

"Aren't you going to invite me to sit down? Or don't you allow visitors anymore?" Trunks felt a sudden twinge of guilt. He, Pan, and Goten used to come here all the time together; now he came alone. He excuse for not inviting Goten was entirely legitimate, but Pan…

"Sure, come on down," he said, dropping lightly to the forest floor. Pan swiftly follow him and sat gingerly on a fallen log, patting the spot next to her.

"Sit. You make me nervous pacing around like that." With a tense sigh, Trunks plopped down and looked her evenly in the eye.

"Well?"

"Do you want the tactful version or the straightforward one?" He smiled wanly.

"Tactful is not in your nature, Pan. Better go with straightforward." She nodded and took a deep breath.

"Trunks, you need to give yourself a swift kick in the butt and get on with your life. If Takira had died, you wouldn't have spent this much time moping." Trunks bristled, eyes flashing.

"What makes think it's about her?"

"Because if it were anything else you'd be back by now, helping Gohan, Chichi, Bulma…me." She seemed to waver between anger and sadness. "We needed you, Trunks, and we still do. Look, I'm sorry she dumped you, but sighing and sulking aren't going to change anything."

'Dumped me?' he thought. 'She didn't dump me. She convinced me that I was the most important thing in the world to her and then disappeared without so much as a fare-thee-well…this is far beyond "dumping"…' It was difficult, however, to come up with anything to really say to her accusation. Pan had a way of doing that.

"Let me guess, Gohan sent you to come get me, right?" Pan glowered.

"He's gone, Trunks, he left a while ago; you'd know that if you'd been paying any sort of attention. If you'd been doing anything but hiding in this damned forest…" She cut herself off before she had the chance to get really nasty, but her anger was evident…and, Trunks grudgingly admitted, justified.

"I'm sorry, Pan," he said quietly. "You're right. I should have been there. It's just…"

"I know," she interrupted. She didn't want him to finish that thought. Trunks grunted.

'You know, do you? If you did, I doubt you'd be speaking to me…'

"So you came to bring me back."

"It's time, Trunks; time to start getting things back to normal. For that, we need you." She edged a little closer. "I need you." Trunks drew a shaky breath.

"Please, Pan. I'll come back, but don't…just don't. I can't. Not right now." Flustered, Pan struggled to regain control of the situation.

"I meant I needed someone around to help me look for my derelict father," she snapped. "I don't know what you were thinking." Trunks gave her a sidelong glance, then looked away.

'Oh, you know, Pan. Don't play innocent with me.' He shoved to his feet.

"Well, we may as well get going." Pan nodded and followed him into the air, heading for home.

* * * * *

'He's still alive, isn't he?'

'Yes.'

'Why?'

'Because it entertains me to keep him alive.'

'That's no the point. His physical body should be dead by now.'

'Someone probably found him.'

'Doesn't that bother you?'

'Not at all, if it keeps him alive. He's more fun that way.'

'They'll find out. They'll know.'

'Nonsense. They couldn't possibly figure it out.'

'What about Cordec?' She gave a contemptuous snort.

'Leave him to me. He'll be no trouble at all.'

'You're being far too confident.'

'You just take care of your end of the bargain. My methods and my confidence are no concern of yours.' He sighed and she spoke again.

'You're not having regrets now, are you?'

'I am incapable of regret,' he spat coldly. 'Do what you will, just don't fuck it up, okay?'

'Tsk, such language; in front of a lady, no less.'

'You're no lady. I'll say what I please.'

'Fine, say whatever you want, but I won't be listening. I must go, I have work to do.'

'Goodbye, then. Remember what I said. I didn't enlist your services just to keep him alive. See to it that he dies, and soon. We can't afford to blow our cover now.'

* * * * *

The air in Bulma's lab was nearly opaque with blue-grey smoke. With a weary sigh she flicked on the filtering system and watched the vapors swirl into the vents. She stubbed out her cigarette and struggled with the urge to light another one.

Staring through the glass at Juuhachigou's room, she noted with relief that the android was at last sleeping peacefully; her last episode had been bad…very bad. Fortunately Trunks and Pan had arrived in time to help restrain her, or she would have done herself serious harm. Yamcha had taken off to get Krillin, and once Juuhachigou had settled down, Pan and Trunks had left to look for Gohan.

Bulma turned back to her console and scrolled through her records, wracking her brain. She could find no clear pattern to Juuhachigou's attacks. One had very nearly coincided with a recent earthquake, but the rest were so random that any attempt to draw a correlation would be a waste of time.

A noise from Juuhachigou caught Bulma's attention. Stepping cautiously into the room, she approached the whimpering cyborg. Juuhachigou's head lolled back and forth as she moaned.

"Stop it, stop it," she mumbled. "Don't…you're doing. Go…" Suddenly she became agitated, growling and straining against the straps that bound her to the bed. "Juunanagou!" she wailed.

Bulma tried to step away, but Juuhachigou suddenly freed one of her arms and grabbed Bulma by the wrist. Bulma cried out and tried to pull away, but Juuhachigou yanked her closer, pinning her with a crazed icy-blue stare.

"Where…is he?" she whispered. Bulma shook her head, confused.

"Your brother? I…I don't know." Juuhachigou groaned and fell back to the pillow. "Did you want me to find him? Do you want to see him?"

"No," she breathed, "no." Bulma persisted.

"But maybe he could help…maybe he knows what's hurting you." Already plans spun through her mind. As soon as Yamcha got back she'd send him… 'Why didn't I think of it before? Who better to treat an android than another android?' Abruptly she shuddered as she recalled why he hadn't considered it. 'I don't really want to bring him here; he's like as not to destroy the place just for fun. That's assuming we can even find him…where does he live now? Oh, yeah, that little shack in the woods. Why would anyone want to live like that? Creepy…'

Juuhachigou was still murmuring under her breath as Bulma eased out of her grasp.

"I'm going to see if I can find him, Juuhachigou. Even if he can't help, we need to make sure he's not suffering the same way you are." Bulma closed her eyes briefly, seeing an image of him staggering blindly through those empty woods, screaming in pain…she shuddered. She hadn't even thought of it before, but it made a frightening amount of sense. If this was some sort of android disease…she didn't bother to follow that thought any further. Plain and simple, they had to find him.

As she shut Juuhachigou's door behind her, the doorbell rang. Bulma rushed to answer it, fully expecting to see Yamcha and Krillin so she could send them out…

…instead, she found herself face-to-face with Chichi, pale and drawn, with a look of angry determination Bulma knew all too well. Looking behind her, Bulma could see a hovercar waiting, stuffed with packs. Chichi grimaced.

"I need that dragon radar."

* * * * *

Goten's hand slid limply off Kaio's shoulder as he sighed.

"Kaio-sama, I'm confused. What's going on down there?"

"A great deal…unfortunately it's impossible to piece together yet."

"What's wrong with Gohan?"

"I wish I knew. I can watch him, sense hi, but I can't talk to him. It's as though his mind had been blocked by something, and he's locked inside."

"You think that's what's…upsetting him?" Kaio managed a grim smile at Goten's choice of words: "upset" was hardly the term anyone else would use.

"I don't know, Goten. Your brother's usually a fairly level-headed guy. Whatever's got him like this must be pretty bad." There was a long pause.

"It's because of me, isn't it?" Goten murmured guiltily, "and he thinks Takira did it…"

"No, he doesn't," Kaio interrupted. "He knows better, but something is taking his anger over your death and turning it against him."

"…or someone."

"I wish it weren't so, but you may be right."

"Why don't you get dad to talk to him?" Kaio winced and glanced at Goten, who at the moment, was practically a portrait of Goku, all wide-eyed innocence.

"Er, I don't think that will work." Goten looked crestfallen, and Kaio stewed.

'If only there were a way to know for sure…that's it! Oh, Enma-daio's going to kill me for this if he finds out…'

Antennae twitching, Kaio concentrated on locating Vegeta.