Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Black and White ❯ 09 ( Chapter 9 )

They paced out the door and hovered into the air, taking off at a pace that Bulma could handle.

 

"Perhaps one of you will be able to answer my question," Vejata spoke, glancing first over to Piccolo, and then to the side at Bulma's head, leaning against her shoulder. "You said that if Cell was destroyed, all those who had been absorbed into him in Hell would be destroyed along with him."

"I believe so," Piccolo answered, voice tense with what Vejata could only assume was nervousness about the situation at hand—but then, perhaps it was her presence.

 

"Would they not normally perish inside this being's body anyway?" Her teeth were tightly clenched as she waited, and Piccolo shifted his gaze toward Bulma.

 

"Eventually," Bulma answered after a moment's thought. "I think."

 

"It's impossible to die twice in Hell—so I hear. Would the condition of anyone inside him begin to deteriorate as soon as he leaves Hell?"

 

"I don't know how all that afterlife crap works," Bulma waved her hand, and Piccolo shrugged in agreement. "But I guess if that's the case then anybody inside him has, I don't know—a week or two before they're completely gone?"

 

"Cell did spit the cyborgs back up," Piccolo reminded her.

"Spit—spit back up?" Vejata's eyes widened. "That's possible?"

 

Piccolo nodded. "At least with the Cyborgs, it was." His eyes narrowed. "Why?"

 

"Not of your concern," she spat.

 

"With what you did to Son? Everything you do is of my concern," he answered bitterly.

 

Cole glanced at Trunks, who shrugged. "What did she do?" the girl asked, and Trunks nodded as if to repeat the question himself, eyeing Piccolo as he waited for the answer.

 

"I think you're a little young—" Bulma started, but Piccolo interrupted her.

 

"She raped him."

 

"So that's what you call it," Vejata muttered quietly. "You know, he could have stopped me."

 

"It was wrong," Bulma insisted. "And awful." At the thought of it, she seemed to flinch away from Vejata, even as she lay in her arms.

 

"Maybe," she murmured, looking the woman in the eye. "But I've done awful things before."

 

"Not as bad as—"

 

"Don't fool yourself," Vejata was suddenly loud, and Bulma winced.

 

"She's done some pretty bad shit," Cole added, and Vejata narrowed her eyes. "Like killing my dad." The girl glanced over to Trunks. "Then again, Vegeta—he's your father, right?—he killed my grandpa."

 

Trunks bit his lip, glancing over to Bulma and Piccolo, who shrugged. "Who says?" he challenged.

 

"He told me hisself."

 

"Oh." The boy seemed to glance pleadingly at Bulma, as if she could offer some redeeming words for his father. Aside from Vejata's tail and tattered clothing, she was nearly the very image of his father carrying his mother. The way the woman held Bulma seemed wrought with the protectiveness that he had glimpsed, on occasion, from his father, and he was certain that Bulma was the reason his father had seemed so tame when he was younger. Quiet, yes, and taciturn, but hardly ever physically vicious—sometimes downright sweet to Bulma and himself, in his own subtle ways. Maybe he had been bad earlier in life—but maybe he was better now. Maybe he was getting better. Vegeta's apparent rage when Trunks had suggested otherwise had, upon reflection, meant more to the boy than Vegeta likely even meant it to, but the boy still wondered.

 

Trunks watched Vejata's distant eyes at they seemed to scan the skyline, maybe for the Lookout or maybe for Goku and Vegeta to reappear with the Cell creature. He had hated her for killing his father—then slowly got past it, until hearing that she had killed Goku and taken his mother hostage. When she had stepped from the spaceship with the woman, she seemed dazed, and as he and Goten had fought her into unconsciousness—put up a fight though she tried—she'd seemed to alternate between a slow tiredness and crazed action. He'd had no time to ponder it, of course, and had been far too furious to even consider asking her. The only one who had seemed to have any real familiarity with the woman was his mother, and in the months after Vejata's death Bulma had revealed to him, through weighty passing comments, that Vejata had threatened to kill her—but never did. It was never clear from their conversations exactly how his mother felt about the matter, but now she rested in Vejata's arms without complaint as they flew. If his father had been so horrible, too, when they first met, well—maybe she was used to nestling up with murderers. He shook the thought from his head.

 

"We're almost there," Piccolo finally spoke. As they alit, Dende rushed to see them, and then faltered at the sight of Vejata.

 

"Where's Son?" he asked. "And Vegeta?"

 

"On New Namek," Piccolo growled, "Wishing Cell back to life—somehow."

 

"They're—they're what?"

 

"Son is foolish," he continued. "But of course, none of us can stop him. Even Vegeta hardly put up a fight."

 

"You guys can beat him—right?" the god of Earth bit his lip in concern as he turned his attention to Trunks, laying his hands over the boy's broken leg.

 

"I hope so." Piccolo looked to Vejata, and seemed to notice her appearance for the first time. He frowned and lifted his hand to her, and her tattered clothes were replaced with a fresh outfit. Immediately he regretted making it so like Vegeta's—but it would be petty to change it now. She gave him a short growl, crossing her arms and wrapping her tail around her waist. Piccolo set Goten down before Dende as Trunks moved out of the way, and the smaller Namekian focused on healing the boy, who slowly came into consciousness.

 

"What...happened?"

 

"The Cell guy knocked you out cold," Trunks helped him up.

 

"The bug guy?"

 

"That's the one."

 

"Who's that?" Goten blinked, pointing at Cole.

 

"Some bitch who thinks she knows stuff," Trunks frowned. "She's a Saiyajin, but she's a total weakling."

 

"Am not!" she huffed. "And I have a name. Cole!"

 

"Okay," Goten bowed. "You seem nice."

 

"I ain't."

 

"O-okay." He smiled a little, and she smirked in return. Goten glanced around and paused when he noticed Vejata. "That's the girl one, right?" he pointed. "What's she doing here?"

 

"Hell if I know," Trunks shrugged, and leaned in close to Goten, "but I think that Cell guy sucked up somebody that she wants out, 'cause she won't stop talking about it."

 

"I don't get it," he blinked, and frowned a little. "Whaddaya mean? Sucked somebody up? I was asleep the whole time all this happened, y'know, Trunks!" he crossed his arms, sticking his tongue out.

 

"All right, lemme tell you..."

 

"I can tell it better!" Cole boasted.

 

"Cannot!"

 

 

...

 

 

"Son Goku," Muuri spoke, "It's hardly my business to delve into personal matters—and really, I think it was unwise enough of me to let that woman—but—this is—"

 

"Please," Goku nearly begged, "You gotta!"

 

The Namekian glanced toward Vegeta, who seemed subdued, gritting his teeth with things on his mind that he didn't appear to be ready to speak.

 

"I bet Vegeta wants to fight him too," Goku glanced toward the prince. "Don'tcha?"

 

Vegeta frowned. "Kakarrot, I'm not like you."

 

Goku raised his eyebrows. "What? No way, Vegeta, I know you love fighting—"

 

"I thought watching your son die would be enough," he spoke quietly. "But I guess anyone before that wasn't."

"I know dying sucks," Goku pouted, "And you ain't being fair, saying it like that. Of course I care—but—but fighting is so much fun—an'...they can be brought back...or I can...anybody...y'know?"

 

"Fuck this, Kakarrot."

 

"Wh...what?"

 

"Do whatever you will. I can't stop you."

 

"You—" Goku paused. Vegeta was probably right—physically, he wasn't strong enough to stop him from doing anything he wanted. The man was so grave in his expression, his tone. But saying that he couldn't stop him? Why, if he just asked Goku not to—the Saiyajin shifted his weight, thinking. Would he go against Vegeta's wishes like that? Maybe the prince had some reasons for not wanting to bring this stronger-than-ever Cell back to life—sure. But they had always won before, and thanks to the dragon balls, not a soul was left dead. Well, besides him, after that fight—but he'd chosen that.

 

"Let me make this easy for you," a deep voice spoke from behind them, and Cell finally stepped forward, looking Muuri in the eye. "Summon the dragon and wish me back to life—if you want your planet and your favorite little heroes to make it to tomorrow."

 

Muuri's eyes darted to Goku, and then Vegeta, and then back to Goku. "Do it," Goku finally muttered. Vegeta closed his eyes.

 

Cell grinned and chuckled. "I'll say it again—you never fail me, Son Goku." He crossed his arms, tilting his head. "We're not so different, you and I."

 

"Nuh-uh," he shook his head, and then glanced at Vegeta, who held his eyes closed. Goku sighed, and his own eyes were fixed on his boots as Porunga burst forth.

 

 

...

 

 

"You don't get it," Trunks smirked. "Goten and I are just way better than you."

 

"Naw."

 

"You aren't a Super Saiyajin, are you?"

 

Cole blinked. "W-well...I'm...gonna be!"

 

"And you don't know the fusion technique, either!" the boy continued.

 

"I...I bet Vegeta and Kakarrot were gonna..."

 

"You act like they like you," Trunks rolled his eyes and threw an arm around Goten's shoulders. "But even if they do, they like us better. They're our dads."

 

"My dad is dead," she frowned. "So that's not even fair. He was real strong too!"

 

"My dad was dead," Goten piped up. "Then there was the tournament and the Buu monster and now he's alive again. I dunno exactly how it happened."

 

"Children," Piccolo boomed, suddenly behind them. "Don't you think you could be doing more productive things?"

 

"Like what?"

 

"Your fathers might need our help—they probably will. How are you going to fight? What is your strategy?"

 

"We're gonna be Gotenks!" Goten grinned, and Trunks nodded.

 

"And?"

 

"'And?'" Trunks repeated, scoffing, before feigning shock. "Oh, he doesn't know about it," he gave a wide smirk.

 

"Well a' course not," Goten frowned, "since you said to keep it a secret an'..."

 

"All right. What is 'it'?"

 

The boys glanced at each other. "A secret!" they bloomed into grins.

 

"Can you tell me?" Cole tugged on Goten's gi.

 

"M-maybe?" he glanced toward Trunks, who shook his head. "No..."

 

Piccolo rolled his eyes, glancing over his shoulder toward Vejata. She spoke to Bulma quietly, tail twitching gently behind her. He considered trying to tune out their conversation—from the way Bulma leaned in close to hear Vejata's nearly inaudible words, he guessed it was probably something he was not meant to hear—but there were more important things at hand than politeness.

 

"...didn't seem too eager about the fight," Vejata was muttering, "is it related to what the Namekian alluded to, something that your son doesn't know—"

 

"Maybe," Bulma nodded.

 

"What—"

 

"It's a confusing story," she muttered, "but years ago Trunks from a different timeline than our own traveled to the past to warn us about some cyborgs."

 

"That he said the Cell creature spit up?"

 

"Those same ones," she nodded. "And that Trunks was there when they fought Cell. Vegeta told me," Bulma paused, glancing sideways wistfully, "he told me that Cell killed Trunks, the Trunks from the future. I think he's worried about it happening to our Trunks..." she exhaled heavily, "I'm worried as hell." Her eyes narrowed, and her gaze was suddenly accusatory. "Why were you so keen on them not killing Cell for good?"

 

Vejata leaned closer to Bulma. "I'm worried as hell, too."

 

"Wh..." she paused. "There is someone he absorbed that you want out, huh?"

 

She nodded solemnly. "I—I thought—" she gritted her teeth. "I thought death meant being gone, then—at least convinced myself of it—"

 

"Who is it?"

"I can't explain," she shook her head.

 

"Come on," Bulma touched her arm, desperate to know what had caused this spark of—she couldn't think of a word but humanity—in the woman. "I'm not going to laugh, or anything, you know. I won't tell anyone." The two of them glanced toward Piccolo, who had been holding his gaze in their direction. He turned away, ears tinged red as he seemed to find something to discuss with Dende. Moments later, Cole was yanking at his cape, frowning and asking him something—or maybe demanding it—and Piccolo turned to speak with Trunks and Goten. Whatever he was saying, Bulma couldn't hear it—her senses were fuzzy with Vejata's closeness as she remembered what had happened last time she could so distinctly hear the woman's breathing.

 

"It doesn't matter."

 

Bulma frowned, poking at the woman's sternum. "Now listen here—here I am having a civil conversation with you even though I know full well what you did to Son. The least you can do for me is answer my goddamn questions."

 

"Fine. What are you to Prince Vegeta? What is Kakarrot to Prince Vegeta? She is both those things to me. A sparring partner, and a—a..." she trailed off, glancing away.

 

The woman blinked. "O...oh." She smiled a little. "And you found her again in Hell?"

 

"Yes. Cell was going for me, but—absorbed her instead."

 

"Well," Bulma grabbed her hand reassuringly, and Vejata glanced down at it, "We'll figure out how to save her. Son will—"

 

"Kakarrot won't do a damn thing for me," she snapped. "And you know it." Her eyes met Bulma's. "I wouldn't ask him to, either. Only—shit, there's no way I stand a chance against this thing. And if they just kill it—well, that won't do any good, either. Probably they'll find some way to get rid of it completely, since they know it can escape Hell..."

 

"I don't know how to say this," the corner of Bulma's mouth turned down a little as she thought, "but look, it's kind of—somehow—it always turns out that our side wins. It always turns out...right. And I think...I hope...it'll be that way again."

 

"I think Kakarrot would tell you that I," she narrowed her eyes, "ain't exactly on 'your side.'"

 

Bulma bit her lip. "We'll figure it out."

 

"I know the gods would never side with me," Vejata muttered, "and I'm not inclined to ask for help, but—shit—" her hands balled into fists. "I need this."

 

"I think you should tell Son, when he gets back." The queen glanced up at her, and Bulma gave her a thumbs-up. "I'll back you up. I'd like to think that as his first-ever friend, I have a little sway. Maybe he and Vegeta can figure out a way to get your," she smirked slyly, "lover out of Cell before they kill him."

 

"Whoa," Trunks whistled, and both their eyes widened as they turned to face him, crossing his arms as he stood just to their side. He snickered. "Vejata's got a boyfriend!"

 

"Girlfriend," Bulma corrected matter-of-factly.

 

Vejata looked away, flushing as she grumbled syllables with the distinct sound of "eavesdropping whelp."

 

"Now that makes a lot of sense," the boy took on his mother's knowing tone. "Finally, somebody else who gets it." At the curious stares of the two women, he elaborated, "Girls are gross, so if they just stay together they can keep their grossness all to themselves." Bulma snickered, and Vejata simply maintained her raised eyebrows. Trunks closed his eyes and turned to Goten, who had since joined him next to Bulma. "But Goten, do you know what's even worse than girls?"

 

"Nuh-uh."

 

He glanced past Goten to Cole, staring at her for a moment in apparent disgust before turning back to his friend. "Weak girls."

 

She stepped around Goten to stand face to face with Trunks. "You ever known the taste of your intestines comin' up through your mouth?" He shook his head, suddenly dazed, and she cracked her knuckles. "Wanna find out?"

 

"I changed my mind," Goten crossed his arms. "You're not nice. You're scary."

 

"I aim to be."

 

"But not as scary as my mom."

 

"We'll see about that."

 

The three whipped around at the sound of a loud cough behind them. "Excuse me, children, but this doesn't look much like teaching the fusion dance to me." At their blank stares, he barked, "Well? Get back to work!"