Prologue
Wrong.
Something was horribly wrong. The thought struck him with a startling surity. This wasn't the way things were supposed to be. Everything had started out so wonderfully...so...perfectly. He was perfect.
So why was it that he was here right now struggling with Gohan?
He growled, putting all his strength into the ki wave. He wouldn't fail. He refused to. Already he could feel Gohan's Kamehameha wave weakening. He felt the boy's confidence faulter, heard his startled cry. Enthused, Cell took a triumphant, though difficult step forward, pushing against the force of the power and giving an arrogant laugh. How could he have been worried? Nothing could go wrong now. How could it, when he'd come so far?
But something did go wrong.
Vegeta had unexpectedly appeared, hurling a large ki blast into him.
"VEGETA!!!!!!," he sneered, his guard temporarily down, staring up in shock and outrage at the Saiyan Prince. With his attention wavered, Gohan saw his moment. He screamed, throwing his entire being into one last boost of his Kamehameha. Turning back too late, Cell felt his control melt.
His body was disintergrating, being destroyed. He could feel himself being ripped apart. His vision clouded by spots of red before finally settling into blackness. He couldn't see. The blast had all but destroyed his eyes. In a last desperate attempt, he flew. Left, right...or maybe it was up. He didn't know in what direction. His only instinct was to get away from this place. To preserve himself. He would not allow himself to be destroyed. But the explosion seemed to follow him, burning at him as if trying to purge the evil away.
He cried out then, giving up on flying for the moment. He landed with a loud, hard, thud on the ground. For a brief second, the pain intensified; the most excrusiating pain he'd ever imagined his body could be in. It felt as if every one of his nerve endings were being burned and stabbed. But suddenly, shockingly, the pain stopped and his conscieouness began to drift away.
No...
He fought at the darkness. Fought it in a vicious and vain attempt to heal himself. He couldn't let anyone find him like this. So...so vulnerable and pathetic.
I am Cell! I refuse to be defeated!
He was loosing. He couldn't keep it up, this battle with his remaining consciousness. In the end, the darkness claimed him, washing over him like a cold ocean wave, his body beaten and bruised, canopied by the trees and bushes.
And Perfect Cell was defeated.
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It was growing dark by the time Asia got back. She had stopped to see a movie on the way home, which had lasted about two hours. She gave a huge sigh, preparing for the classic ear-full. She hadn't meant to stay out so late, but her parents always had a fit whenever she went anywhere on her own...even though she was nearly nineteen.
She climbed slowly from the car, contorting it carefully back to it's dino-capsul. After pocketing it, she began the slow, suspenseful trek towards the house. However, to her intense relief, she found the house empty.
They weren't home!
Giving a huge sigh of relief, she unlocked the door and flipped on the lights, revealing a blue tiled kitchen. A quick glance at the microwave clock confirmed that it was 11:20. 11:20 pm and she had come home to an empty house with no idea where her parents were.
Howver, she was used to staying alone, so the absense didn't bother her too much. She somehow felt more at ease in the night hours anyway, staying up late just drawing, reading, listening to music, or surfing the internet. Kicking off her sneakers, she ran to her room and flopped lazily on the bed, enjoying the quiet hum of the air conditioner and the symphony of crickets outside. Pretty soon she began to grow drowsy and closed her eyes.
But then something happened. Another noise, one that didn't sound familiar, rang out. A quiet sound; not as concrete as the air conditioner, though not as prominant as the chirping of the crickets, either. It was just...different. Like a noise a human would make.
Asia sat up, frowning. Something was wrong. She strained her ears, listening for the sound to identify it, but it didn't come again. Perhaps she HADN'T heard it..she was nearly asleep anyway. Her senses were clouded. Maybe someone had left on a television or something. She got up, going across the hall to her younger brother's room.
After a moment she came back looking worried. Her brother's tv had been off. She frowned again, peeking out of the window, for once ignoring the beautiful full moon in the sky.
Suddenly she heard it again, this time more clearly; a soft moan right outside her window. She lept back nervously.
"This is like a scene from a scary movie or something...."
She glanced around for her cell phone. Was someone trying to break in? But if so, then why were they under HER window, which was facing the front of the house? They'd be in plain view of the road! It didn't make sense. Grabbing her phone, she quickly flipped off the lights and returned to the window.
"Please don't let this be a burgler," she prayed fearfully. Stuff like this didn't happen to her. She was just an average, everyday, middle-class girl..nothing like this was supposed to happen!!! Cautiously, she peeked out the blinds straining to see in the dark. Maybe it was just an animal. A rabbit or a cat or racoon or something. But after a third moan from below, she knew she was wrong. NO animal made that kind of sound, she was sure. No animal but a human being, that is. And then she saw it.
Outstreched on the ground below, she could just barely make out a booted leg. She gasped aloud, falling back. Someone had collasped outside her window! Had they hurt themselves trying to break in? Her hands shook as she began to dial the number to the police. But at the second digit, she stopped. Something told her that this person, whoever they might be, had not been trying to get inside. And from the position they were in and the sound of the moans, this person was in serious trouble. They were in pain, maybe even in need of an ambulance. She stood slowly, pinning the phone to her jean pocket and opening her door.
Geez! I am such an idiot!, she cursed at herself. But at the same time she kept going. If someone ended up dieing just because she was too afraid to go help them, she would never forgive herself. At the door, she slipped back into her sneakers, quietly closing it behind her and making her way down the porch steps.
What am I doing?! This is INSANE! He could be waiting with a gun or a knife or something ready to rape and kill me! She stopped at the side of the house, peeking causiously over the lush bushes and azaelias. There it was, the figure. Still sprawled under her window where she'd last seen. From the shape of the profile, she realized now that it was a male.
A very large male.
Suddenly she didn't feel so good. That familiar fear began driving at her, making her want to run back into the safety of the house. But then she realized something.
He wasn't moving.
She couldn't even tell if he was alive or not. The upper part of his body was heavily concealed by the bushes and greenery. Feeling incredibly silly, she did the only thing she felt she could do at the moment. She cleared her throat and called out to him.
"Um...s-s'cuse me, sir.." she began nervously. But when he didn't respond, she took a step forward, for the first time noticing the odd angle at which one of his legs was twisted. Without thinking, she rushed forward, kneeling helplessly beside him and wondering what to do next. She barely knew anything about first aid...except that you weren't supposed to move a person with a concussion. But did he have a concussion? She couldn't tell. He was making noises, but that didn't mean anything in the medical world.
Remembering something, she reached around in the dark for his hand. She'd check his pulse! Feeling proud of herself for thinking of this, she fumbled around until she'd located one of his arms, gasping at how hard it was. Was that skin?! No. It couldn't be. No one's skin was that hard. It had to be some sort of suit he had on or something. Whatever it was, it was making it hard to get an accurate feel on his wrist. But never-the-less, she finally found it and sighed in relief. His heart was still beating. Faintly, but atleast he was still alive. She had to get him inside where she could see him better! Although she wasn't sure if she should be moving him or not, but it was so dark that she couldn't see anything out here. Plus, even if he did survive, it would do no good if he got bitten by a snake or something out in these bushes.
Straddling his waist, she gently began to turn him on his back, which proved far from easy considering his size. But after a few minutes, she succeeded in getting the upper part of his body on his back. And that's when she noticed it.
His head. Frowning, she leaned in for a closer look, not really seeing anything but the sillouette of it. He was wearing some sort of hat, or what was left of one. It fit over his head exactly and didn't seem as if it would come off easily. What an odd looking thing to wear on your head, she found herself thinking absently, then instantly felt ashamed. For whatever reason, what he wore was none of her business. She was supposed to be helping him, anyway! Not judging his fashion sense!! Whatever kind of hat or helmet ist was, it was broken anyway. She could tell even in the dark.
Dismissing it, she turned back to the strenuous task at hand. She hesitated now, unsure of how to to move the broken leg. She probably shouldn't move it, but she didn't want to leave him out here either. There had to be a way to get him to the back porch atleast. She sat back, thinking. What could she use to support his leg while getting him inside? After a moment it came to her. Running back into the house, she came back with her brother's old skate board. He'd begged their parents for it 2 years ago after seeing some professionals on television, but had quickly lost interest when he'd nearly broke his neck trying to stay on. She was sure he wouldn't miss it. Getting on her knees, she carefully lifted his leg, wincing when he jerked unexpectedly.
"I'm sorry!," she whispered sincerely. "But I have to get you inside!" He didn't react, and she wondered whether he was still unconscious or not. After getting his leg onto the skateboard, she removed her belt, tying it loosely around his leg and the board so that it wouldn't slip off while she drug him. Then, going to his head, she grabbed him gently beneath his arms and pulled.
Since his head was in the direction of the back of the house, she began moving towards the back door, quickly becoming winded. God but he was heavy! It felt like her arms were being pulled off by the seams. Every few seconds she had to stop, put him down, and catch her breath. Then she would resume again. By the time she reached the back door, she was drenched in sweat, her stomach throbing painfully from that stupid hat of his poking into her flesh. She'd tried to take it off, but it seemed to be glued to his head. Maybe he'd hit his head somehow and it was swollen. She hadn't had a chance to inspect him closely due to the lack of light.
The skate board seemed to be doing it's job, however. His leg was still firmly attached to it. Reaching the step though, she came across another problem. Getting him up them. Lifting him was definately out of the question since she could barely drag him. If only they had a ramp or something to-
Below her, the man began to stir, breathing in raspy gulping breaths. Was he waking up? Maybe he could help her bring him in. If he could still walk on his other leg, she could probably manage to support him atleast a little. She shook his shoulder gently, trying not to hurt him. When he didn't respond, she kneeled beside him and gave his cheek a soft hit.
"Listen," she began slowly not knowing if he could even hear her, "I'm trying to get you inside, but I can't lift you by myself..do you think you could help me just a little?" When he didn't respond she sighed and began to move away. But suddenly, and quite unexpected, his hand shot out, grabbing her own small wrist in an iron grip. She immediately stiffened. She didn't like being touched, wasn't used to it. When people did make contact with her it made her uneasy, which was just how she felt at the moment. She tried to pull away, tried not to overreact. This man was injured afterall. He was barely conscious! It was just a reflex; he couldn't know what he was doing.
But in the next instant he attempted to rise, pushing her away from him and leaning against the support of the porch. The effort of rising seemed to wear at him, and a few seconds later he was gasping for breath. Asia ran to him, sliding a hand around his waist, which was about even with her neck, and carefully situating his arm around her neck and shoulders.
"Come on! You can't just walk away. Literally. You don't have the energy," she reminded him quietly. Whether he heard or not, he allowed her to act as a surrogate crutch and lead him to the threashold of the doorway before collasping on top of her, causing her to lose her balance, which resulted in the both of them falling. After some effort of getting him off her, she turned on the light, intending to get a good look at this person and the severity of his wounds. But after hitting the switch, she nearly fainted with fright.
The man...the 'man' she'd gone through such lengths to rescue was none other than the horrible creature on every news channel across the country. The creaure who's life she had unwittingly been trying to save was the same person who had in turn, been trying to, destroy all life.
The man before her was the being called Cell..and she had just brought him into her house.