Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Avenging Angel ❯ Avenging Angel ( Chapter 1 )

Avenging Angel

By The Eternity Dragon

Disclaimer: ……….. ($..$)

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This has been a working project for me over the last six months over a serious area of depression and writers block, losing Murray and finding him again contemplating the forces of divine evil, the idea came to me whilst trying to write an entirely different project about a girl in a coma.

So Avenging Angel appeared taking place after the Majin Buu saga and before Goku discovers Uub.

When Trunks and Goten grow up and Goku is in training, the story is set both in Vegeta's mind and the outside world.

This is a one shot fiction; well, I could expand it I suppose, I guess it depends on how popular it is.

I will finish Separate Beds and Juggernaut, in fact I've already gotten halfway through both chapters but I'm stuck…….lol, you can view the chapters on request I guess but until I can finish them you're gonna have to satisfy yourself with this.

There are several different meanings to this story.

See if you can guess them all, I've enjoyed writing this immensely, I hope you enjoy reading it, I think my writing skills have improved whilst writing it.

So all that I have left to say is that this again, is based on an episode of Farscape I saw a very long time ago, so enjoy!

All hail the magnificent Murray!

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He was lying there in the dark, with nothing but the voices in his head to keep him

company.

"You're dying you know." One said; his face over shadowed by the darkness, arms

crossed staring down at him.

"What are you going to do about it?" He growled his voice low and menacing.

"Nothing." The man on the floor retorted, staring up into the abysmal blackness that

was his mind, "Nothing at all."

"So you're giving up?" another voice said, joining the turmoil of the other two.

"You're going to let yourself fade away?" He was younger than the others, standing

in the corner out of eyeshot.

His voice echoed eerily in the man's ears.

"He tried to kill you you know." The first said again, the shadows growing over his

face and body, the man on the floor said nothing, his dark eyes bored into the gloom

searching for an answer.

"I fell." Was all he said.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*

"No!" Bulma was screaming, pearly tears adorning her azure eyes; she flung another

fist into Goku's chest.

"Tell me you didn't do it Goku, I need to hear you say it!" Her eyes streaming, she

gazed into the ebony eyes of her longest friend, he grabbed her hand in his and

brought in down to her waist.

"I did." Was all he said, the light in his eyes had flickered out, no smile was hidden in

his youthful features.

She shook her head, blue hair cascading in all directions, "Why? I don't

understand…..What were you doing?"

Goku took a step backwards, regret deeply etched along the worry furrows in his

brow, he looked up at Bulma, taking in her sadness, feeling her loneliness, watching

her confusion.

"I don't really know how it happened……." He began; he was surprised by how

much the words caught in his throat.

He closed his eyes trying to remember, the air this morning had been cold and crisp,

like it so often is on a hard September morning.

Concealing years of suppression and anger, things had started innocently enough, a

spa, had been suggested, they had both been eager for a fight.

Pent up energy that had been contained in the normal routine of everyday life had

been unleashed allowing the freedom of ones body and soul once again.

The punches had fallen; comments had been made in good humour, old friends

fighting again like it had so often happened before.

Until something had stirred in both of them, a trace of the bitter past they had both

shared and held at arms length for so long, feelings and emotions better left upon the

self.

The air had grown sour as the horizon had slowly grown redder and redder, they had

both tried to stop but they could no longer control the animalistic behaviour that was

driving them to fight.

The desire to win.

At break neck speeds they had hurtled against each other, a battle of the tyrants, no

longer between friends but the old hostility of mortal enemies stood between them,

awakened with a new hunger poisoning them; consuming their minds entirely.

They had both fallen, stumbling and failing down the sheer drop, bodies colliding

with each other and the brutal force of flesh and bone against cold stone.

He had been fortunate; he had been spared, but Vegeta?

He had as good as killed an old companion.

The guilt he was trying to avoid was catching up with him as he tried to justify

himself, "It was an accident," he muttered to the floor, gazing at his feet as though

they could atone his sins.

The truth was for a moment he had let the blood lust consume him, the desire to kill

as a full blooded Sayain had been overpowering.

For a fraction of a second he had derived immense pleasure from the realisation of

Vegeta lying blooded and broken by his side, his scarlet blood mixing with the brown

earth, and then reality kicked in, Goku had never been more sickened.

Guilt flushed over him in crimson waves; filling his every pore, ensnaring his mind

and senses, leaving the acidic taste of regret in his mouth, and the uncontrollable urge

to vomit.

"Bulma," he said, unable to look her in the face, "I'm so sorry."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*

He was standing here, in a place he knew from so long ago, this place he had

forgotten, the memory gave him comfort as he took in the surroundings of the room.

The same carpet, a deep ruby red embroidered with gold, the same wooden floors, a

deep chocolate brown, the bed, still the same hangings and material he remembered

curling up under so long ago.

"You can't hide here forever you know."

A voice said behind him, anger consumed every syllable, each born from a deep

hatred.

"I'm not hiding." He said slowly, looking at the illustrious walls, "I'm just thinking."

His eyes rested on the portrait on the wall, the way it had been, the way he would

always remember it.

"You can't always run away from it." The man said, folding his arms and leaning

against the doorway, "Because it will catch up with you, it always has done before."

Vegeta sighed and bent down to touch the cold floor, feeling the varnished wood

underneath his freezing fingers.

"I'm not running from anything." He answered finally; standing up again and staring

at the ceiling in moody defiance, "I'm just thinking."

"But you're dying," the man said again, Vegeta sighed and turned around to face the

man properly, "So you keep telling me." he growled.

"So?" The man questioned further, "What are you going to do about it?" his onyx

eyes contracting to stare Vegeta hard in the face.

"Nothing," Vegeta answered off handily, turning round and walking defiantly across

the room to throw open the widow.

A long silence followed, then suddenly like a shudder the words crept down his spine

bringing with them a cold irrational fear.

"He tried to kill you." The man said; his dark tone penetrating the sense of security

Vegeta was trying to loose himself in.

"He didn't," Vegeta answered vaguely, climbing out of the window and sitting on the

ledge, "I fell."

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Bulma raked a hand through her cobalt hair, struggling to remain calm; he just

couldn't die, she thought furiously, he just couldn't.

There was no way in Hell she was letting him off that easy, there was to much they

hadn't said to each other, to much they hadn't done together.

She couldn't lose him again she just couldn't, she'd die first, if the slow madness that

was creeping up on her didn't get to her first.

She sat next to him; her eyes watching his chest rise and fall with rhythmic breaths,

tears flooded from her eyes unhampered, trickling down her neck, crystallising on her

cold skin.

"Vegeta," she murmured, "Please don't leave me."

The words flew from her mouth in a dying plea, she'd give anything to see those onyx

orbs flicker open again, that annoying smirk play on his irritatingly handsome

features.

Anything; but this awful stillness.

Droplets of moisture falling onto his olive flesh Bulma leaned over him, his breath

tickling her skin as she did so and kissed her husband on the mouth.

His lips were cold and strangely numb, her silky blue hair trailing across her cheek,

she gazed down into the face of her Vegeta.

His skin was lifeless and grey; his eyes remained still under heavy lids, his mouth

didn't move at all the way it might have done in he had been asleep, the only

assurance that he was actually alive was the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.

Her prince of Sayains reduced to a lifeless slumber, and with each passing minute her

hopes of his miraculous reawakening were shattered a little more.

"Vegeta," she said softly stroking his cheek with her hand, "Wake up."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*

"You're in denial again." The man said, following Vegeta out of the window,

"Nothing can be gained out of this futile pastime, with each passing second we die a

little more."

"Then why?" Vegeta asked through gritted teeth as he struggled to suppress his

temper, "Do you persist in drilling into me the hopelessness of the situation?"

He stumbled across the dry ground in overgrown yard to the gate at the bottom,

tripping as he went over stray roots and large green plants.

"Because," the man behind him said, scowling at Vegeta's back, "We still have a

chance to survive, if you would just listen to me."

Vegeta rolled his eyes as he pulled open the rusty gate, the cold metal resounded into

the dark night with a fierce-some clang.

Looking up, Vegeta could see storm clouds gathering in the grey sky; yes, he thought

this was just like home.

"Are you listening to me?" The man questioned, pursuing doggedly after him; Vegeta

moved down the dirt trodden track quickly, hoping to loose him so he could be alone

again, he didn't want to think anymore, he just wanted to rest.

"Running again?" A voice said, higher and softer than the other, "Giving up so soon?"

Vegeta shook his head as lightening streaked the sky above him, "I just want to rest."

He answered staring down at the muddy ground, "You cannot rest here remember?"

The younger said, glaring up into Vegeta's face with dark onyx eyes.

Like a plague coursing through the world of pretend, the plants wilted and died, the

sky turned black and the ground beneath Vegeta's feet crumbled away like melting

snow.

He fell through the blackness, through the cold onto hard stone; seeing before him the

grave stones carved with names belonging to more than a billion Sayains.

Of course he remembered, how could he forget?

The icy laughter of his tormenter coursing up and down his spine, Vegeta stood up

his head raised, staring into the blackness determined not to see.

"You know what you have to do," the man said, his Sayain tale curled behind him in a

gesture of superiority, "You cannot hide in the child like security of your mind for

long, because you will eventually die here; alone." He added nastily, sneering at

Vegeta with an expression of deep hatred imprinted across his shadowed face.

"Revenge Vegeta," he said quietly, allowing his icy tones to ring eerily across the

graves, "You must kill the one who did this to you."

Vegeta closed his eyes slowly, trying to remember, "But I fell." He said angrily.

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Trunks sat there, legs drawn up to his chest, head resting on his knees the wind

ruffling his hair and chilling him to the bone.

He was going to stay out here all night, his mother wouldn't notice, she was too upset,

he was going to remain out here and count the stars.

Maybe, just maybe if he wished enough on each star in the sky, his father would wake

up.

Perhaps his father was already awake, Trunks would do anything to hear the gravely

tones of his father again, everything seemed so still now.

An owl hooted in a neighbouring tree sending goose bumps down his spine, sitting up

a little straighter, Trunks pushed the branches on either side of him back a little bit.

So far he'd counted 12 stars, he scanned the sky looking for the 13th, but then he

remembered that 13 was an unlucky number and decided to wait for the 14th to come

out before counting again.

Sighing and leaning against the gnarled bow Trunks slowly closed his eyes wishing

he didn't feel, he wished that it had never happened, he wished so hard he felt dizzy

and could hear the blood gushing through his head.

He could smell blood, secretly he wished he was dying, then perhaps he could see his

father again and convince him to come back.

"Trunks!"

His mother piercing yell sliced through the heavy night air, he shook his head and

pressed himself against the tree, Bulma's face was red, she had been crying again.

But he wasn't coming down, he was going to sit up here all night if he had too and

count the stars, then maybe his father would wake up……….

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Vegeta sat there in the darkness, running his cold numb hands through his hair over

and over again; he knew he was dying, he knew why he was dying, but he still hadn't

done anything about it.

He didn't want to do anything about it.

He was so tired of trying to be perfect.

"You make me sick!" said a bitter voice beside him, "You really do!"

Vegeta felt the mans icy fingers prize his clenched knuckles away from his fore head,

"You're just sitting here doing nothing like weak, pathetic human!"

The man shouted, "Where's your Saiya-jin honour? Where is your pride?"

Vegeta didn't answer, he didn't want to answer, he couldn't answer.

"Answer me!"

The man was shouting now, sharp piercing yells puncturing the over hanging gloom;

"Why won't you answer me?"

The man continued to scream, "Do you want to die like this? Like an old man? With

out the glory of battle and the taste of blood in your eyes, ears, and mouth?"

Vegeta groaned, "That would be the point," he muttered sarcastically rolling his eyes;

the man was not impressed and slapped Vegeta hard across the face.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" he snapped.

Slowly Vegeta opened his eyes and found himself gazing into the deadly dark onyx

orbs of his former self; the young proud prince he had first been when he had landed

on planet earth.

"Just leave me alone," he said quietly, "why can't you just let me be?"

The young man narrowed his eyes and his mouth contorted into a furious frown;

"Because I don't want to die like this." He said quietly, and Vegeta felt he could

almost feel the panic his younger self was feeling, "I want to kill the man that did this

to me!"

Vegeta shook his head slowly, "We tried that already remember?" he said

sympathetically, "It didn't work."

"You just weren't trying hard enough!" The man spat, his hands trembling slightly as

he clung to Vegeta's cold wrists.

Vegeta smiled apologetically, "I've spent the most part of my life trying to do just

that," he said simply, he felt no guilt, no shame in the words he was saying.

"I just can't beat him."

The man dropped his wrists as though they were burning coals, "That's it?" he said,

his eyes wide with irrational fear, "You're just going to give up? But that was what

we lived for the thrill of battle-I don't understand.

Why-How-What?"

He opened his mouth and shut it again, unable to find the words.

"I don't want to die like this," he said eventually, "I'm afraid."

"I know Vegeta said simply, turning his head to the bottomless cavern that was his

mind and burying himself in the memories.

"So am I."

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Bulma tossed and turned in the cold bed, she'd spent the better half of the night trying

to coax Trunks out of the oak tree in the garden, finally giving up as her lavender

haired son stubbornly refused to budge.

Eventually they compromised by Bulma bringing out a sleeping bag and pillow for

her son to use.

Woe betide him if he had a cold the next morning!

He was so stubborn sometimes; he could be just like his father when he wanted too.

Bulma moaned as an all too familiar prickling feeling crept into her eyes and throat,

she'd been crying such a lot lately, she couldn't sleep anymore, her bedroom was too

lonely without his presence, she constantly found herself unconciously wriggling

around trying to find another body to press herself against.

She longed for him were ever she went, and what ever she did she missed him as she

would her other half.

She raised the back of her hand and covered her eyes; sobbing quietly into the silent

house, she tried to stem the tears she really did, but nothing worked.

When she'd first met him she thought him to be an egotistical jerk with a bad attitude

and gorgeous features, and she had constantly regretted her moment of weakness

when she had allowed things to get out of hand.

And when she had become pregnant with Trunks words could not describe the anger

she had felt at him for shutting her out of his life.

She had learned later of course, that he had only acted like that out of instincts, a self

preservation mechanism forged from the emotionally crippling years he had spent

with Freza.

But, even through all that she loved him more than she could understand, more than

she could fathom.

And now his continual absence was crippling her, Vegeta, how could he do this to

her!

Her cheeks wet from her tears she sat up, the room spun uncertainly as she stood up.

She was wearing nothing but a flimsy night gown even though the night air was chilly

and the window was wide open letting in a freezing night breeze.

Goose bumps played across her pale skin as she crossed the room and walked across

the corridor and made her way silently down the stairs.

She moved more quietly still across the living room and dinning area until she stood

in front of a closed white door.

Holding her breath and crossing her fingers, Bulma gently pushed the door open, it

swung silently open revealing the silent contents of the room.

She felt the tears swell in her eyes again as she gulped down the icy night air to try

and steady herself and recover from her extreme disappointment.

He was alive, barely alive, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest was a constant

reminder of the living death she was seeing.

"Vegeta." she said quietly, placing a pale finger on her chapped lips, "Please wake

up!"

The tears streamed down her face unhindered as she leaned over him, her cold live

lips pressing down onto his pale ones.

Was he alive?

Brushing her long blue hair away behind her ears Bulma pressed her head against his

chest, the methodical thump, thump, gave her some hope at least.

Climbing onto the bed she entwined her arms around his waist pressing herself as

close to him as possible, burying her head in the crook of his neck.

He was freezing!

But the steady beeping of the life support machine and the steady rise and fall of his

chest gave her surety enough for the moment at least.

Slowly she inhaled his scent; her sense began to whirr down, leaving only a

comfortable blackness that she could sink into.

One hand buried in his hair the other flung across his waist holding him to her

possessively, and quickly she slipped into a dreamless sleep, troubled by ruthless

feelings and distant memories.

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"THEN WHY DON'T YOU FIGHT IT?" The young man screamed, "USELESS

WEAKLING! HOW DID I EVER TURN INTO YOU?" he hollered his eyes wide

and vengeful "KILL HIM! DON'T JUST SIT THERE! KILL HIM!"

"He's hiding." A quite voice said from the corner, the words were riddled with a

silent malice that caused tingles of electricity to dance up and down Vegeta's spine.

"Aren't you?" the boy said looking up at Vegeta with dark and imperious eyes, "It's

better to just not think about it isn't it? That's why it's so dark in here."

He finished quietly, but suppressed anger still moved through the words at a

frightening pace.

"HIDING?" The man said incredulously, "HIDING? FROM WHAT? THAT

SAIYA-JIN FOOL IS NO MATCH FOR THE PRINCE OF SAIYA-JINS!"

"Perhaps," began the younger, "but it's better to run from confrontations, just ignore

them, they are inferior to our species."

The young man tossed his head and laughed, "You'd have us hide I suppose,

imprisoned by the four walls of our room as you did when we where a child!

With out revenge what is there to live for? Our existence would be pointless; we must kill Kakarott for what he has done to us!"

"YOU JUST DON'T GET IT DO YOU!" Vegeta yelled suddenly standing up for the first time in hours, both of the figures fell silent suddenly, arms clamped to their sides in a silent fear and astonishment.

"I can't hide anymore and nor do I want to," Vegeta shouted, a cold fire dancing in his ebony black eyes.

"I needed you when I was small but I can't be like that anymore, I've grown too much; I'm sorry."

He said quietly unable to meet the child's eyes.

The boy gasped silently, like an echo from a memory as he slowly faded from view, into the growing darkness.

The young man shuddered horrified, arms clenched rigidly by his arms as his eyes travelled up to stare Vegeta in the face.

"Don't!" he stammered his eyes wide with a sudden fear, "I don't want to die!"

Vegeta stared at the man, his former self, but himself no longer, he remembered why he had become like that, years of hate, and rational fear and exhaustion had morphed him into a proud arrogant young man seeing only the worst in the world.

It was the only way he could cope with the world around him, the memories played back in forth in Vegeta's mind, struggling with reality and the past.

"We all have to die sometime," he said suddenly, the darkness encircling him, "It's the one surety we have in life, we are all born to die."

The man reached forwards and grabbed him by the shoulder, his hands were cold and slightly transparent, Vegeta could no longer see his face, "Promise me," he stammered as he began to fade, "that you won't let it end like this,".

His words suspending on the fading conscious will, like an overhanging fog,

"You didn't fall and you know it, you can't let it end this way; please, you can still break free!"

Vegeta turned away, blocking out his voice, "I don't know if I still can." He murmured, closing his eyes giving in to the shadows, "Yes you can," the man whispered as he ebbed away into nothingness, "Because you love her."

The words echoed faintly out of the shadows, eventually growing still and quiet.

Vegeta sank to his knees resting his head between his hands, alone; at last, the silence was eerie, no suppressed anger, no hidden agendas, nothing.

He closed his eyes, alone in the darkness with his thoughts, "Yes,"

he murmured, a small smile playing across his face, not a smirk but a smile,

"I love Bulma."

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Vegeta opened his eyes, the room was cold and peaceful, the moon outside cast a thin stream of moon light through the net curtains.

The silence was interrupted by the slow beeping of a rectangle shaped machine in the corner and the steady rhythmic breathing of someone's chest.

Turning round to look at the person lying with her face buried in the crook of his neck, Vegeta smiled slowly, she was a strange one, she had shunned him in the beginning, treating him like something the dog had dragged in, and then suddenly the relationship had sky rocketed, she had proved herself to be passionate beyond belief.

Her personality had intrigued him, sending his mind into endless fantasies and possibilities; she drove him absolutely mad at times.

He had tried to escape at one point, trying to run from the trap that he was falling into; but it hadn't worked, as soon as he had seen her again his icy mask had crack as his heart had skipped a beat as he had seen her ship hurtling towards the ground, to be rescued moments later by his own son.

Jealousy had coursed through him, he had tried to suppress it, tried to deny it, his pride had got in the way of forming close relationships.

Something he had always wanted but tried to avoid; yet somehow.

Somehow this had happened.

He had fallen deeply in love, not in lust, in love with the woman who was lying next to him now.

Vegeta smiled and leaned over, his warm lips closing over her cold soft ones, she murmured softly in her sleep, "I'm dreaming," she said quietly, and kissed him back.

Trailing one hand through her hair Vegeta pulled her small body towards him, "Then it is a very good dream."

Bulma chuckled and moved her head away from his caressing lips; her blue eyes filled with tears as she looked up at him, "Am I dreaming?" she asked, her voice catching in her throat.

"Or am I dead?"

Vegeta wiped the tears from her cheek, and smirked, "Did that feel real?" he enquired, cocking his head slightly to the right, "and what about this?" he said dropping butterfly kisses across her neck.

"Geta," she cried and wrapped her arms around his neck, "I've missed you so……."

"You better have." Vegeta growled in her ear, Bulma laughed it sounded like champagne bubbles cascading down a waterfall.

"Don't you ever do that again." She whispered in the night air, "You frightened the living day lights outta me and Trunks!"

Vegeta frowned, "Where is the boy anyway?" he demanded his voice echoing around the chilly room.

"Up the oak tree," Bulma murmured sleepily placing her head in the crook of Vegeta's neck.

"WHAT?"

Bulma laughed, "I know he wouldn't come down," she smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, "Something about counting the stars……."

Vegeta shook his head slowly, "What would you do without me?"

Bulma closed her eyes and muttered something indistinguishable; Vegeta sighed and moved his wife closer to him.

Later he'd go into the garden and fetch his sleeping son down, later he'd pay Goku a long awaited visit, later he'd start training again, much later.

But for now he was home.

His mouth found hers again in the darkness as silently they showed each other how much they meant to the other.

"Vegeta," Bulma said eventually, he moaned and tried to silence her with a kiss but she moved her head away for him.

"What happened?"

He stopped, his mind a blank, how could he answer this?

How could she ever understand?

He smirked unseen to her in the darkness before leaning forward and spoke into her mouth.

"We fell."

No longer haunted by the voices, blissfully alone, blissfully unaware, the avenging angel was gone.

The End

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So?

Is that it?

No sequel?

Was it terrible?

Good?

Bad?

In between?