Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A Place Within Strangers ❯ Part Three: Completed ( Chapter 8 )

AN: Final chapter, after this, only epilogue left. Enjoy.

I do not own or make a profit of the DBZ franchise. I do believe that the honor of creating such a show, manga, etc. is of Akira Toriyama. DBZ is a trademark of TOEI Animation (says on the label of DBZ videos) and licensed by FUNimation. So from all that legal stuff, you can conclude that I DO NOT own this stuff....I just get a kick of out using their characters for entertainment purposes. So please, do not sue.

*How sad it is to hear thee cry.

The stains upon your cheek bring mercy.

I bring the gift of not demise, but fulfillment.

Her touch, faint and familiar and yet strange all the same, rousing me from the imprisonment of loss, and awakens me to the reality of her existence. In the comforting ambience of darkness, her form is overridden by shadows, her breath concealed by a soft nightly breeze, while her eyes seem to offer the only light. Surrounded by her essence, I am left undone and paralyzed with relief. But she continues to move, as if nothing has taken place. As if the last four months have not come to pass and no havoc has occurred -all an unpleasant dream and the debris of anguish blown away by a chaste kiss.

She smiles, and innocently leans in, as her hand comes to rest on my cheek, compelling my body to lean into her touch. She whispers, her blue eyes overfilled with emotion.

"I've really missed you."

I choke at the sound of her voice, softly ringing through the room, continuously echoing in my mind. How is it that she exists? My mind is filled with unanswerable questions, but as I look at her saddened face, my throat closes in and no word can escape. She continues to smile, tears drip over her cheeks and she throws her arms around me, crying with all her might.

This has to be an illusion. Another game invented by the inner demons of my mind. I am torn, as part of me wishes to resist this sadistic joke, and another desires to give in and seek whatever temporary relief.

I find that I no longer care, and real or not, I need her.

I'm surprised when I look down to find that she is still here, and the fresh tears streaming down her cheeks and onto my chest start to make me believe that this could be less of a lie after all. I stroke her back in an attempt to comfort her, although my shaking hand probably frightens her more than not. Instead, her lips blindly search for mine and I don't hesitate to plunder her mouth frantically, all for the fear that at any moment she may disappear once again.

She releases a shaky breath as we part, and my anxious hands carefully trail her soft skin, somehow removing clothes by their own accord.

But as much as I try to concentrate on the moment, memories plague my mind...

* * *

"You know," she panted lightly, fingers running over my damp flesh. "This couldn't have happened at all if we weren't friends."

I grunted, bothered by the fact that she could still think when I had fucked her senseless. Always with questions, always speculating pointless theories. I suppose that one was about us...they usually were.

I followed her example and my hand landed on her thigh. Pressing casually, my thumb traveled along the supple leg, distracting her for at least a moment. But she continued, and so I interrupted her with a question of my own.

"What makes you think we are or were friends?" I chuckled, and she followed my gaze, knowing full well that my fingers would begin an intimate rub. "It looks like this began with something else."

She groaned in reaction. "Well, y-yes." Her hand clasped my wrist, nails dug into my palm. Her blue eyes stared at me and she paused, attempting to gain some control. "But eventually, we would have become bored."

I turned, slightly amused. "Really?" I mockingly asked as my index finger pushed in. "And a `friendship' would have been better?"

Her back arched and her hips raised a little, only to inform me that she disagreed and yet wanted me to continue. She thoughtfully chewed her lip as her eyes occasionally closed, all while turning crimson as she neared release.

She moaned. "Y-you aren't listening."

"And you," I countered, pushing a little deeper and seeking that spot that she so desired. "Aren't paying attention." I leaned in close, as my other hand rested on her cheek and turned her toward me. "This began because of lust, the primal urge to fuck you blind." The words escaped my lips quickly, too low to be heard over her breathing.

Her scent filled my sensitive nostrils, her moisture dampened my hand.

"Yes." Whether it was a word of encouragement or of agreement, I didn't know. Her body became rigid, her breath appearing in short gasps as her hand tightly clenched my own. She lay still - her breathing labored - and I allowed her to recover as I found myself curious. She eventually released her grip, lips parted for speech.

"Although true," she smiled pleasantly as her hand brushed over my shoulder. "It wasn't the only reason we began, Vegeta. I couldn't have stayed with you if you hadn't become my friend at some point."

"How..." I paused, and thought over her words carefully. "How could you be so sure?"

She grinned. "That we were friends?" She shrugged and pulled me close, her lips brushing teasingly under my throat until she reached my mouth. "You began to care."

* * *

I press her naked body close to mine, nothing physical bares us from each other.

And yet...I am not at peace.

There is no feeling of salvation from an infinite ache and my soul is still broken, untended by her healing hands. I feel the warmth of her body, her cool tears on my skin, but it is the same as touching the shell of a person - there is nothing underneath.

This - my inability to feel her spirit - confirms my previous suspicions and makes me more prone to resist. I gently push her off as this new realization sounds truer every passing second - she may be an illusion, though she's one I don't want to harm. But as her blue eyes stare at me in confusion and pain comes to surface, I am seared by her abrupt presence.

Rendered motionless, her pain suddenly touching my own, dissolving in it, until I can no longer tell the difference. It is innocent and unselfish, contrasting my dark grief and adopting my doubts. A rage against destiny, an incomprehension of fate's will, or that fate had a will at all - these thoughts and emotions invade my soul. But she has more than anger toward fate, she...she is scarred by defeat.

She feels guilty.

As if it were her fault that our children will forever cringe at the thought of her being sick, all for the fear that she may die again, their sense of security lost, all due to her absence. She feels she is no longer dependable, branded as weak. She feels out of place, unworthy to be in this reality, as if what tied her to this world no longer exists.

But I know better.

Those emotions and doubts, they are all taken from my own. She is in pain, but her sentiments are unlike mine. Part of me concludes that my pain came from loosing her, as that itself was a lost within me. Another concludes that this life was not meant for me at all, and as much as I've tried to deceive myself, her death proved it all the more. Her sudden presence has brought out my oppressed fears and has shown them as her own.

It is more pain than I can ever allow, and I can't help but to remember the first time I truly felt defeated...

* * *

The bitter taste of my own blood spilled from my mouth. Agonizing lost of breath, brittle soreness of my bones, muscles worn, energy drained. My inability to fight back reduced me to tears. The frustration of learning that my life had been meaningless and my goal untouchable, shattered my pride.

I lost the will to fight.

My life had always been molded by the hands of others and never myself. The legend. My legend. Handed down by my father, my salvation from insanity. The legend gave my existence value, it was the tool that would help me avenge my exterminated race. And when the legend became reality, I would feel the power that had been denied to me for far too long. I would have control. And I would defeat Frieza.

It was all I could think about - my unquestionable desire. To Frieza, it was child's play, and he allowed me to believe that I had finally reached my goal. He allowed me to believe that I could finally be free. So close, my mind and body felt a fleeting moment of joy, before the peace and redemption I had sought my entire life were ripped from my hands.

His sadistic grin of pleasure, his taunting laughs, the childish delight in his eyes. I discovered my life's work had been in vain and there was nothing left to do. I lost hope before I even knew I had it and I lost whatever tied me to my existence. It was when my defeat truly began.

And I died before Frieza even touched me.

* * *

"I don't belong here." The words tumble out of my lips before I can prevent them, and the truth in these words hang heavy in the air.

"Wh -"

I grab her before she has a chance to finish, pressing her body tightly to mine while covering her mouth. She needs to hear this. And I must express the thoughts that have been tearing at my mind and greedily devouring my soul. At all costs, it must be said. I pull her closer, willing her to be calm. In a moment, she is still, although her trembling does not stop. She is scared. So am I.

"Did you ever wonder why you became pregnant in the first place?"

She nods, clutching my arm tensely.

"I wanted you to be happy."

Her blue eyes widen in bewilderment, more tears appear and roll over my hand.

"I saw the look in your eyes when Gohan's mate brought their child over and placed her in your arms. I never thought you were... being deprived."

I stiffen at her muffled gasp, chest heaving, body shaking. I swallow.

"I wanted you to be happy...." I laugh bitterly, startling her into silence. "Look at you. Look at how well that turned out. I vowed that I would protect you and now I know I'm not fit for it." I growl lowly, clutching her roughly. "For anything. I'm only good at pain. I only know how to hurt people." I look at her. "Like you."

She begins to struggle, and somehow, escapes my embrace. Her face is red, her body trembling uncontrollably. I can easily detect her fury.

"How -"

Fragile, warm, the room strangely comforting and dark.

"- what could ma -"

Soft breeze passes through, chilling my damp flesh.

" - I know it hurts, but you just can't -"

Another breeze, compelling my eyes to slowly close....fall back into dreamless sleep.

Vegeta.

"- and what about me?" She finishes, eyes tearful and pleading.

"Ve - too tight."

My eyes snap open at the sound of faint wheezing. Desperate breaths fill the room, shallow...throat sucking in air, heavy exhales.... `What is going on?' I look down to find....her.

Bulma.

"Bulma?" I release her quickly, finding that my arms had been wrapped around her...but not the way I had them before.

She coughs, clutching her throat and throwing me an angry glare. She stumbles off the bed and into the bathroom, taking gulpfuls of air along the way. She comes back with a cup of water and a questioning look.

"What was that all about?"

My mouth opens but no words come out. Instead I can't stop myself from staring. She feels different. Shifting uncomfortably, she carefully climbs into bed.

"Are you ok?" She looks down and following her gaze, I notice that I am badly shaking, my body coated in sweat.

I blink and look cautiously around the room. It is unchanged, as if someone has turned back time. Everything is organized and calm, no signs of distress. I feel for familiar energies and everything is there...except her. I cannot feel our infant child, it is as if she does not exist.

"Hey," I flinch under her gentle touch, her eyes portraying concern. "What's wrong? You don't have to freak out or anything, you didn't hurt me."

`She's not real, it's another game.'

"Vegeta?"

`No, it's another game. Another sick game. I'm not falling for it this time. Not again.'

"Was it one of those dreams?"

I want to tell her to shut up, but I can't bring myself to do it. Her voice, soft and innocent, I can't bring myself to silence her. She leans in, her arms wrapping around my body, embracing me.

"It was just a dream...." She whispers, her hands gently rubbing my back as if I were a child. Only then do I notice dry sobs are racking my body, only then do I believe her.

I tell her everything.