Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Borrowed Redemption ❯ II ( Chapter 2 )

Borrowed Redemption ::

Chapter 2

 

 

Goku's eyes welled up as he watched the prince beside him, struggling through a restless sleep. They'd managed to escape the gravity room and find somewhere to lie down - namely, Vegeta's bedroom, the nearest area with space for the both of them. Vegeta, obviously more distraught than he wanted to let on, had fallen into an almost-sleep instantly, leaving Goku to his thoughts.

 

“Vegeta…I'm sorry,” he whispered, buckling to the urge to run his thumb across the prince's cheek. Air rushed noisily into and out from his throat as he felt a stab through his struggling heart, and he was forced to draw his hand back and clutch it to his chest. Goku glanced over to the table across the room, where he'd set the antidote.

 

Such a tiny vial…

 

A small but resounding growl from his left shocked Goku, and his gaze whipped over to Vegeta. By the look on the prince's face, he was rather displeased with the fact that they were sharing his bed. However, his scowl faltered for a moment when Goku gasped in pain, curling up as he grasped at the torn gi that mostly covered his chest.

 

“You know why this happened, don't you, Kakarrot?” he murmured.

 

“You do?”

 

Vegeta nodded slowly, hand quickly clenching into a fist and then relaxing over his ribcage. “It was…it was…probably transmitted by…”

 

“That day…” Goku trailed off as Vegeta's face twisted into a sour expression. They'd promised not to mention it again - to even think about it, ever.

 

 

***

 

 

Goku smoothed his hands over the covers before lying down beside Vegeta. “Hello,” he murmured, and rolled over onto his side to face the prince, whose gaze bored into the ceiling.

 

“Kakarrot,” Vegeta acknowledged him.

 

It had been a long day - as each day before, and now the small Saiyajin was numb even to the grating annoyance that his counterpart usually assured by his very presence.

 

“How're you?” Goku continued, keeping distance between them, although again he found his hand creeping toward his stomach. Vegeta had hardly even spoken to him since they'd left Earth, making sure to train by himself, eat by himself, and sleep by himself. How could Trunks' word be right?

 

Vegeta didn't answer, maintaining his upward stare.

 

Goku waited impatiently, but he shifted his gaze so that it was focused on the ceiling as well. The two lay there in silence, the quiet in the air between them not stacking up a wall, but tearing one down.

 

Suddenly, the prince ripped his eyes from the ceiling and focused them on Goku, and Goku's orbs flitted to Vegeta. When their stares met, a wave of electricity passed between them, and Vegeta leapt up from his spot to crouch over the other Saiyajin, a wild noise erupting from his throat as his hands dug into the sheets on either side of Goku. Goku bolted up and hastily pulled Vegeta toward himself. His fingernails cut into the prince's skin as he clutched at his shoulders and crushed their mouths together. Vegeta groaned into the kiss, pressing his eyes shut and savoring it, until just as suddenly as he'd sprung onto Goku, he leapt up, eyes wide with panic.

 

“Vegeta?”

 

“Don't—don't you dare—don't touch me again!” he screamed from across the room, fists shaking more in fear than in rage.

 

Goku opened his mouth to speak, but only dry air squeezed through his throat. “I'm sorry,” he finally murmured. What else was there to say? Even if Vegeta had initiated it, he'd enjoyed it just as much as the prince had seemed to - more, probably.

 

“Just—this never happened, all right?” his voice dropped to a deadly, silent tone. “You dreamed it—I dreamed it. No—we didn't even dream it. It never existed.”

 

At a loss for words of understanding, Goku forced his head to creak forward in a nod.

 

“Now get out of my bed, and never come into this room again,” Vegeta growled, pointing to the door. Goku's gaze focused on the prince's index finger, his ungloved hand, and followed the skin up to his shoulder, down the curves of muscle of his bare chest, and before it strayed any lower, guided it back up the smooth sweep of his neck, over his scowl, across the elegant arch of his pressed-down eyebrows, and let it rest in the pools of disappointment just below them. He inclined his head and slid from the mattress, padding heavily out the door. Vegeta's eyes followed him until he was gone, and the prince's arm slowly lowered until it was slack at his side. “Kakarrot,” he mouthed, and climbed back into bed alone.

 

 

***

 

 

Goku blushed slightly at the memory, and he saw that Vegeta was wearing a similar expression. Clearly, their agreement had not held well.

 

“Probably,” Vegeta answered quietly. He winced and clutched at his heart as the virus' effects took hold of him once more, and his teeth nearly screeched as they clenched. A pained squeak escaped his throat, and his grip over his heart tightened.

 

The other Saiyajin shook slightly when he saw blood not from the earlier battle leaking through Vegeta's shirt, his hand wrenched so tightly that his nails had dug through the thin-worn gloves and training top, burrowed into his skin. He reached for the hand, trying to pull it away from Vegeta's chest, but it wouldn't budge. “You have to let go, Vegeta. You'll hurt yourself!”

 

“Kkk…k…” the prince struggled to speak, thrashing wildly in an attempt to remove Goku's comforting touch from his skin.

 

Goku watched helplessly for a moment before he realized what was going on. His mouth moved for several seconds before he could push words out, and even then they were sparse. “Ohh…Kami…you're dying…!” Disregarding the pain that was reemerging from his chest, Goku dove for the medicine on the table; fingers clumsy with panic and quivering in agony fumbled with the tiny cap, and then steadied the vial as best they could near Vegeta's mouth. “Drink this…Vegeta…” he gasped.

 

“No!” Vegeta screamed through his dry throat, snatching the vial in a graceful movement and replacing the cap. “I am…the prince of the Saiyajin…I don't need…an…Earthling…medication to get over this!”

 

“Trunks said I died because of it! And you will too, Vegeta!” Goku yelled back, his fist closing around the prince's.

 

Vegeta's features froze at the name momentarily, but quickly swirled back to rage. “I'm not so weak! I'll…get over it myself! I—” a cutting cry sliced the air, and the prince's neck arched back, threatening to snap in half, as he screamed out.

 

“Vegeta!” the volume of Goku's voice fought through Vegeta's, and he pried the tiny vial from the prince's hands. He kept it wrapped between his fingers and his palm in one hand as the other reached for his heart. “Listen to me!” he shouted, pleaded, breaths coming as short gasps.

 

“No!”

 

“You have to drink it!”

 

“No!”

 

Golden anger swirled around Goku, threatening to engulf Vegeta in its wildness. “Now!” Vegeta removed his hand from his chest, extending both arms to thrust Goku away, but the other Saiyajin did not shift, instead deflecting the push and roaring out, swiftly uncapping the bottle and shoving it into Vegeta's mouth. As he squeezed his eyes shut, the empty vial's glass shattering in his grip, Goku screamed two more words: “Goodbye, Vegeta!”

 

 

***

 

 

Vegeta shook his head slowly as he came to. The antidote, somehow, had knocked him out - or perhaps that had been Kakarrot.

 

Kakarrot.

 

Kakarrot.

 

He closed his eyes, wishing away the shards of glass spread across the floor. A few were lined with thin strips of dried blood, but most were scattered to reflect every corner of the room in their clear, crystalline beauty. True, the damage the virus had done to his heart was still causing him some pain, but of course it would go away.

 

The prince let himself fall backward onto the icy, tiled floor, trying to remain blind to the other half of the room.

 

But there was no hope for that.

 

Vegeta slowly pulled himself to his feet, so close to regretting every second his eyes spent opening. Nonetheless, they opened, and with what was supposed to be a stony wall, he faced the Saiyajin on the floor, sprawled gracefully amongst the glass shards from the vial. The prince shuddered, slamming his eyelids together at the sight. It's just a dead body, he reminded himself. You've seen lots of them.

 

It's…it's just…

 

It's…Kakarrotto…

 

No, no, no! This is pathetic! You, the Saiyajin no Ouji - reacting how to this…corpse? Absolutely unacceptable!

 

His eyes flew open once more, and he quickly knelt to press Goku's lids over his hollow orbs, drawing back as soon as the deed was done. His breathing had quickened to a frightening pace, daring to cut the oxygen short. “You're not dead, Kakarrotto!” he keened, and as he stood with closed eyes and clenched fists and panicked gasps, fury wormed its way into him. “You're a moron! You're not dead; you're just stupid! You're not—you're just—you're not—”

 

And he fell forward onto the chilly body, wailing out and grabbing fistfuls of his half-golden hair, shaking his head and refusing to hear the ululations that issued from his own mouth. The sudden spurt of power, coursing through the only living veins for thousands of miles around, meant nothing to him, and it faded quickly when his ire calmed to gentle sorrow. Vegeta leaned down until his lips hovered just over Goku's, he and gingerly brushed them together before ripping himself away, sprinting into another room.

 

 

***

 

 

“Why, why, why, why, why?” he repeated quietly for the hundredth time over, treading a path through the only carpeted area of the ship, ignoring the bursts of throbbing pain in his chest as the antidote did its work and the cold sweat that sheeted his skin. Vegeta sucked in a deep breath and pressed his hands to the corners of his eyes, checking to make sure they were still dry. “Why is this happening?”

 

Goku had been nothing but a nuisance - and still was.

 

“Why, why, why, why, wh…why…?”

 

The renewed self-hatred that had sprung up shortly after his death was as strong as ever. How could this low-class peasant have such an effect on him? Why, why had he been driven nearly to tears? How had it been the cause of his transformation? What was it…what was it that made Goku so unintentionally powerful?

 

It was terrifying.

 

Vegeta tried to still his quivering fists, but the fact that all these reactions, this turmoil he was experiencing, was because of Kakarrot, was overwhelming. Unbelievable.

 

Disturbing.

 

 

***

 

 

His fingers tapped the counter restlessly. Not only was it his duty, it was also unavoidable.

 

But what would his friends say?

 

Vegeta eyed the marble with dread, knowing that once he returned and sorted things out, there would be no more time for another training excursion - and after the ghost that had haunted him for the past few days, he was hardly eager to spend more time in the chilling loneliness of space. Still…spending more time on Earth would hardly be preferable.

 

The ship landed without difficulty on a Capsule Corp. landing pad, and with solemn eyes fixed downward on the sheet-covered body he held, the prince slowly, somberly, exited the ship.

 

“Vegeta!” Bulma's cheery eyes sparkled as she came sprinting out the door, baby cradled in one arm. “You're ba…who…what…” her face fell.

 

Vegeta's blank eyes rose to meet her, and he quickly diverted his gaze, turning his head to the side. “The virus,” he explained quietly.

 

“But—there was an antidote! That the kid from the future gave him—don't tell me he forgot to bring it?” she answered hurriedly, still in complete disbelief. It was a joke, obviously. A sick, twisted joke that Vegeta had come up with, and convinced Goku to play along…

 

“He did.”

 

Bulma waited several moments, expecting Vegeta to explain. “It…didn't work?”

 

“It worked.”

 

“Then…why is he—you mean, it's really that he's not—”

 

“I'm alive.”

 

A long few seconds' pause was cut off with a sharp slap.

 

“You—you—” Bulma fumed, balling her fists, then releasing them to slap Vegeta again. “You got the virus and then took it for yourself, didn't you?”

 

The conclusion she'd reached, clashing so harshly with the prince's feelings, left him taken aback. “N…no, I…”

 

“You killed Goku!”

 

“I…”

 

“I don't care if you were going to die!” she screeched. “You know that he's the only hope this planet had, and now he's dead!”

 

“I…”

 

“You selfish yaro!” she slapped him again, and then turned on her heel, leaving without another word.

 

Vegeta blinked slowly, supporting Goku's covered body with one hand and using the other to stroke the other man's face through the sheet.

 

If Bulma was this furious, how would the people who hated him before react?

 

 

***

 

 

He soon discovered the reason for Bulma's rage.

 

It took approximately five seconds of watching the television flicker on to see, and only a little longer scanning over the ki signatures on the planet.

 

A quarter of the population gone, plus one of that fool's friends. Yamcha, or whatever his name was.

 

Obviously, the others were unable to stop them.

 

Vegeta quickly set off to chase after the cyborgs, leaving Goku's body to rest on his bed, unsure as to what to do with it. Burial would be foolish…and would mean accepting that the other Saiyajin would not be coming back.

 

 

***

 

 

“Ooh, look, it's another one,” the female mocked, pushing her blonde hair behind one ear. “We thought we'd beaten the sense into all of you already.”

 

“Let me take this one,” her counterpart answered, chuckling.

 

“Absolutely not!”

 

“What?”

 

“That's what you get for making me sit through your boring car trip.”

 

“Aargh, you're no fun. Fine, go ahead. It probably won't take too long anyway.”

 

Vegeta lowered his eyebrows, balling his fists and searching for the spark that would allow him to power up to this new level. Well, it was obvious that these two cyborgs were strong—even if Kakarrot's friends were nowhere near to him in strength, they hadn't even been able to put a dent in them, or so it seemed.

 

“Still, I do wonder where that Goku went,” the male pondered.

 

The prince took in a deep breath, trying to slow his heart. “Cut the chatting,” he ordered sharply. “Let's begin.”

 

 

***

 

 

There was no denying it, no trying to think otherwise, any longer.

 

They needed Kakarrot.

 

Vegeta stood at the edge of the cliff, taking in the fresh air. He'd failed, miserably.

 

Now that Cell, running rampant in his perfect form, had issued the challenge of his tournament, there had been a growing tension amongst all of Goku's friends, and the one time Vegeta had shown his face had been a mistake. Bulma had spread her story to all the others, and it was obvious that no one was willing to listen to the prince's words. He quickly gave up, shouldering all their insults quietly. Elevating the argument would only be an insult to Kakarrot's memory.

 

But they all knew, and Vegeta most painfully, that even combined they did not have enough power to overcome Cell.

 

They needed Kakarrot, and there was no getting around it.

 

 

***

 

 

“I don't have time to waste with you,” Enma spat. “Don't come back until you're dead—and I'll know right where you're going!”

 

“I need to speak to Kakarrot.”

 

“Goku? Why?”

 

He held a harsh gaze upward, nowhere near as intimidated as he felt he should have been. “I need to get him back to the living world.”

 

“There's a way to do that, but I'm absolutely not letting you into Heaven to see him.”

 

“Very well, then,” he growled, the acrimony in his voice suggesting the opposite. “Is there a way for this to happen that does not require I see him, then?” It hurt, but if it was the only way, then so be it. Besides, once Goku was alive again, Vegeta would be able to see him alive on Earth.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Good. What is it?”

 

“You can transfer your life to him.”

 

Without a thought, Vegeta nodded. “Do it.”