Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Chizzari-Raditz ❯ Memento ( Chapter 16 )

"Raditz."

I blink at the lazy acknowledgement, watching him examine my nude form. I can't seem to get my brain working while he does, and the next thing I know he's kissing me. I open my mouth, too surprised to do anything else, and my mind kind of… melts… for awhile. I'm clinging to him when he finally decides he needs to breathe, and he's anchoring me against him with an arm around my waist. The whole time, that thing on my neck keeps throbbing.

"Raditz," Zarbon drawls, "were you mistreated?"

"I…" I start to say yes, then reconsider. I wasn't actually mistreated. I wasn't treated at all. "I guess not."

"You guess not?" Those beautiful eyes regard me thoughtfully for a moment, then shoot to the bars that still confine me. He frowns. "What does that mean?"

"Shouldn't you meet your son?" I motion to Zarrad, still sitting there with that puzzled little look. Zarbon turns to look at him.

"Well…" He sounds surprised. Looks surprised. "He's our son?"

"Yes." I motion Zarrad over, since Zarbon doesn't seem to be moving. Zarrad slips off the bed and comes closer, his head going back further and further as he tries to keep Zarbon in sight. Soon, he is clinging to my leg and staring up at his father. "Zarrad, this is your father, Zarbon."

Zarrad reaches out and pokes the pink thing Zarbon wears on his leg, then looks up again. Very seriously, he asks, "You warrior?"

"I am."

Zarrad's eyes light up. "Mission me! Mission me!" he exclaims, jumping up and down. "I warrior!"

"A very small one."

"Yes." Now Zarrad looks puzzled, and I intervene.

"Saiyans become warriors at the age of two, Zarbon. I have given him our warrior rite." My tail lashes once, then curls traitorously around his thigh. I have not entirely released my hold on him, though one hand has dropped to take my son's small hand. Zarbon's arm around my waist shifts, his fingers circling the base of my tail. I have to lean against him as he begins stroking, and I don't pay a great deal of attention to the conversation he is having with my… our son.

My eyes slip closed as the pleasure from my tail is countered by the pulsing pain from my broken bond. I still lean on him, but no longer relax against him, and the little noises I've been making change from pleasure to painful little yips that I try to keep quiet. He tugs sharply on my tail, his other hand fisting in my hair and pulling my head back. He glowers down at me.

"My son has never been outside?"

"No." His eyes narrow. "It wasn't safe."

"Not safe?" he repeats, hissing angrily.

Slowly, I tell him of what happened when I returned. Of my confinement in the tiny cell in the deepest of the dungeons until my room had been remodeled. Of the limited contact I had had in that cell, and how my keeper had stopped feeding me when he'd seen the mark on my neck. Of the guards doing little things, like tripping me and yanking my hair, while they beat off the ones who tried to do worse when I was moved. "And then they put me in here, and I've been in here ever since. You're my first visitor!" I end brightly.

"And when you had my son?"

I blink, and glance down at the boy. Zarrad is still staring up at Zarbon. I clear my throat. "I, uh, screamed?"

"Who attended the birth?"

"Zarrad," I whisper, "and me."

There is a very long silence. I can't meet his eyes. "What of the doctors?" he says finally. His body is hard against mine, his fingers still on my tail, his arm no longer comforting.

"There were none." I swallow, hard. "I told you, I have seen no one since I was brought here. Our food and the clean bedding were delivered through a service shaft."

There isn't much furniture in my apartment, but then, there never was. He sits me in my chair, where Zarrad jumps onto my lap and burrows under my hair. Zarbon prowls around the few rooms. I hear the cooler open, hear the grunt of satisfaction. He comes back, holding a bit of meat, chewing at it thoughtfully as he looks at me.

I glance down at myself, trying to see myself as he does. I don't see anything unusual, but I've been seeing myself too long to know if anything is out of the ordinary. Except, I still think I look a little thin. Most of our mush has gone to the chubby cub on my lap. I smile, as Zarrad peeks through my curtain of hair and watches his father.

Zarbon settles on my bed, watching us, a hint of an amused smile playing on his lips. I clamp my teeth against the sudden rise of pain from my mark, and urge my son to his father as soon as I can speak again. Once I am sure the two are engrossed in each other, I shake my head a bit so that my hair obscures me from them, and fight against the agony that threatens to take over every sense I have. I do not know what is happening to Vegeta, I only know that it is painful, so painful that he is trying to reach me in spite of our bond having been voluntarily broken by him.

It has happened several times, but this is by far the worst. I catch fragments, almost glimpses, of what is going on, and double over, sickened by even those shrouded hints. I pour what I can into that broken bond, knowing that he may not receive it, not even knowing if it would help if he could. I can feel someone holding me, know it is Zarbon, but can't deal with that just yet. I feel his hands on my neck, pressing against the wound that hurts me so badly. I can hear his voice, but can't make out what it is he's saying. Something cool presses against my neck, but the raging firestorm of the pain isn't even dimmed. I feel myself lifted even as I push the last bit of strength I have into that broken space where my mate once was.

The sun is well up when I wake. Zarbon's long frame is wrapped around me, our cub tucked against my stomach, purring desperately. That is his only real Saiyan trait, his ability to purr. I rumble back at him, causing instant commotion. Zarrad starts crying, Zarbon leans over me, and a half a dozen voices start babbling. I reach up to touch Zarbon, rather surprised to find him in bed with me, actually looking like he cares what has happened. Speaking of which… "What happened?"

"I'm not entirely sure," he drawls, then captures my lips in a luscious kiss. I enjoy it for a moment, before the burn starts and I pull away. "It seems to have happened before. The cub has been most informative."

I look down at Zarrad, wailing against my stomach, and wrap my tail around him. Zarrad doesn't really talk a whole lot, usually listening to the stories and histories and lessons that I tell him, but I know he's got an extensive vocabulary. He probably could find the words he wanted to answer any question Zarbon put to him. "Hey, squirt. What happened?"

"The shame bled. A lot more than last time," he tells me between sobs. "I thought you dying!"

I touch my neck, recognizing now the feel of a thick bandage wrapped around it. I remember the pain. I also remember that Zarbon loves the boy, so I don't ask him what happened to cause such pain. "I didn't die, baby," I manage instead. "I'm fine."

I dodge when he tries to kiss me again, but he, like Vegeta, is worlds stronger than I am. He lowers his mouth to mine, nibbling and tasting until I give him the access he wants. I let him kiss me, trying not to respond too much, not to be too willing. The problem, of course, is that I'm so starved for attention - any attention - I can't keep from responding. The mark flares again, an angry pain that robs me of the little breath Zarbon left me.

He pulls back, looking down at me. I can see the puzzlement in his eyes before he slips from the bed. He picks up Zarrad. "I am sending the boy home to my people now. I can see it would be best for him."

Since I think Frieza's ship would be a better place for him, even with Frieza's known interest in young Saiyans, I nod wearily. I turn my attention to my son. "Zarrad. Your father is taking you to his home now, a planet where you'll be able to run and train outside. You will have new lessons, little one. I want you to learn them, and learn them well."

My little boy nods solemnly. It is only when he stands that I realize he is dressed in a miniature replica of Zarbon's outfit, complete with the headdress and earrings. His hair has been braided as well. I sigh, his resemblance to Zarbon so much more pronounced. He has never looked very much like me, but what little hints there were seem to have disappeared. "Raditz, is there anything of yours you wish him to take?"

A memento? I look around the nearly empty room, shaking my head. "I have given him what I could, Zarbon. I have… no mementos that I can give."

There is a brief singed smell. I yelp, grabbing at my hair. Zarbon merely laughs and plaits the length he has stolen. In a moment, he has slung the plaited lock around my son. It looks much like a rather odd sash, but I smile anyway. My son will have something of me, now. "I will miss you, boy."

"I will miss you too, Dama," he tells me, then executes a perfect little bow.

Zarbon turns to face me again. "I have some doctors here who will see to your health. I know you haven't been eating well." A hand rests on our son's head, the child beams at me. I'm not about to tell him that details like that might have gotten me killed. One last smile from them, and they leave.