Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Chizzari-Raditz ❯ An enemy's promise ( Chapter 19 )

Zarbon is waiting for me when I step from the tank. "Feeling better?"

I take stock of myself. I bend and stretch, then sigh with relief. "Yeah. I got the same quarters?"

"Yes. Follow me." I do, after I put on the clothes he has brought me, since I'm not really sure which part of the ship I'm in. That med bay was tiny, and I had really been a bit big for the tank I was in. But it did its work, so I don't plan to complain. I get a lot of odd looks from the other fighters as Zarbon leads me towards the upper decks. I see one of the Ginyu, that little white haired one. He stops and stares, even follows us down the hall for a way. I am beginning to wonder if the small pants I wear are see through when Zarbon stops and turns.

"Jeice, do you need something?" His drawl is all affected annoyance.

Jeice's reply is equally affected. "No, mate, I was just making sure I wasn't seeing a ghost."

"Raditz is one of the survivors. Be so kind as to tell Lord Frieza about him, will you?"

I think I should be white enough to pass for a ghost. I don't understand why Jeice would think I was a ghost, other than that, and I don't like the idea of Lord Frieza knowing I'm here…. Wait a sec, what the hell did Zarbon mean about me being a survivor? I glance at Zarbon, who is giving Jeice that hard-eyed look that reminds you just exactly what he is. The little goon scampers off. Zarbon continues to the deck I remember, but takes me to his quarters.

"What're we doing here?" First things first. I wanna know why I'm not in my quarters.

"Your planet was destroyed."

"What?!"

"Lord Frieza has offered a berth and job to any survivors."

I sit in the plush chair he motions to. He doesn't look like he's joking. Doesn't sound like it. "What happened?"

"The official story is that a meteor struck the planet, and destroyed it."

There's something in the way he stresses that that makes me know the official story isn't true, but that my planet, my home, is very much gone. I lick my lips. "When?"

"The day you arrived."

My father… he'd just come back from a mission. He had been wounded. Now, he was dead, killed in the fluid that should have healed him. And there had been a festival planned, for the full moon that had been due the next day. Most of my people had taken leave and were on-planet for it. "How… who…" I mumble, not sure what I want to say.

"Nappa we found sleeping in his quarters. Vegeta is returning from a mission." Zarbon knows me well enough to understand what it is I need to know. He turns from the small bar, finally, and comes towards me. I can see the truth in his face. My planet is gone. My people, destroyed.

I wait. Wait for it to kick in. I've been through so much… shouldn't this hurt more? He gives me a small glass, and I toss it back. A moment later, he is pounding my back while I choke. "What?"

"Fireberry rotgut. Made it myself." He pours another glass while I cough and splutter. He offers it to me. "You, Nappa, and Vegeta are the only known survivors."

I grab the glass and down it, wordlessly asking for another even as I choke. I… Nappa… he… why him? Why? My father is dead but that perverted freak survived? Why? Zarbon hands me another glass, and another. He brings the bottle over, curling comfortably in the chair opposite of me, but I can't stand that now. I'm used to Zarbon, his scent, his touch. I stumble over to him, collapsing at his feet and pillowing my head against his thigh. There's too much to take in, too much new pain, and I whimper as I huddle on the floor next to him. I drink a lot. More than I should - I'm very, very drunk when I manage to establish that my sons are alive. I don't mention my brother to him. Instead, I give him an abbreviated version of my life after Jilt was recalled, since I just can't deal with the idea that I'm alone again, except for those who've abandoned or tormented me. He starts drinking with me before I am half through with a recital I never do finish.

I wake up with the worst hangover of my life, nestled in Zarbon's arms, on his bathroom floor. We're both nude. He's pressed up against my back, cock tucked up my ass, and as I get an idea of what is me and what is him, I realize my tail's embedded in him. Pulling it out wakes him up, and a hung-over Zarbon is not a pleasant way to start the morning. Especially since I am equally hung-over, and we are both in a position to fuck. Which we do, to the advancement of pounding headaches.

A shower is the next order of business. One or the other of us had puked, maybe even both of us, and it had gotten in our hair. That is a mess we determine needs immediate attention. I wash his hair, he washes mine. And each other's bodies. Hung-over or not, we can't seem to keep our hands off each other. I have the advantage, being able to use my soapy tail to wash him very thoroughly. My head aches, my stomach's in knots, and I want him to fuck me.

I press against him; he growls and whacks my head. I wind up on the floor of the shower with a worse headache than I did have, and him inside me. That works, even though my head aches. I really don't much care, I just want to… to feel. And I know he won't hurt me. He's never really hurt anything but my pride - and I don't think I have any of that left. How can I, after all? I'm nothing… nothing… worthless, shamed, mated to an outlander against my will, weak. I have nothing to be proud of. I can't even be proud of my race anymore, because it doesn't exist.

He pulls me up against him suddenly, so that I am resting between his legs, against his chest. My chest is heaving with my sobs, and he is whispering something that I know is supposed to be comforting. He's not fucking me anymore, either, and I'm not sure when that quit. We sit there, on the floor of the shower, while I bawl and he just holds me, until the water is far too cold for comfort.

I don't really help much when he pulls me to my feet, but I do stand while he towels me dry. Even my hair. His touch is gentle, soothing, and eventually, my crying stops. I let him dress me in the usual bodysuit I wear, and watch while he pulls on that ridiculous outfit he always wears. It doesn't have much more to it than my outfit, but he's chosen to wear shades of blue that make him look like he isn't wearing anything at all, except for that white armor. He leads me to the bedroom, pushing me down into that lushly covered softness he calls a bed, and tells me to get some sleep.

I guess I must have listened to him, because when I open my eyes again, the blankets are a tangled mess around me, and Zarbon isn't around. I crawl out of the massive bed and straighten the covers out, not wanting him to be upset about it when he gets back. Zarbon's a bit of a neat freak; there isn't a damned thing out of place in his quarters, and I learned a long time back to tidy up after myself if I was in here with him. I go out to the outer room, sinking into one of the comfortable chairs he's got scattered around.

He brought me to his quarters. I still don't understand exactly why he did that. Certainly not just to tell me that my… that my home was gone, get me drunk, and fuck me, right? Far as I know, Zarbon doesn't operate that way. Oh, hell. I am his cousin's mate. Maybe that has something to do with it? Maybe his people share their mates? I never did ask. My fingers creep to the mark on my neck, and a moment later, I'm in front of one of the many mirrors on the walls, peering at it. It hasn't darkened, or disappeared. It doesn't hurt, or itch, or burn. I rub at it… I've cheated on my mate. Something should have changed.

I don't even realize he's back until I see him in the mirror behind me. Startled, I jump and whirl around. He reaches out, touching the mark his cousin left on me. "He was experimenting, you know," he says conversationally. "He had his own mate on our homeworld, but he couldn't stand seeing you in such pain. I had told him a little of Saiyan claims, so he attempted to ease your pain by marking you as his. Did it work?"

"Yes." It is the only thing I can say. Jilt… I mean, I know he had told me he hadn't known if it would help, and that it was an experiment, but to hear that I was nothing to him… not the mate he had claimed me as, used me as… it hurt. Zarbon was still talking to me, but I couldn't process what he was saying. I was trying to understand. Jilt had loved me. He had. I had felt it, through our bond. I'd felt it! Except…. I turn from Zarbon to face the mirror again, pulling the armor aside to get a better look at the mark. It looks… faded.

"Is he alive?" I have to ask. I have to! I know I have interrupted Zarbon, know that whatever he was saying he considered important, but I hadn't heard any of it.

His hand raises, and I cringe. I can't help it. I've been beaten too many times. A sad smile crosses his face, and his hand drops to land on my shoulder. "No, Raditz. He was executed for treason shortly after he got home."

I sink to the floor, my head bowing. I hadn't even known. I should have known when he died, should have felt the bond snap. But… as often as I was in pain, as often as I was abused? Maybe the pain of losing another mate had just blended in with the rest of the trauma. I lean against Zarbon, dry-eyed, unable to mourn the mate who has been dead for months without me knowing. At least now, I understand why he never came back for me. A trembling purr rises as Zarbon strokes my hair, an unconscious request for him to keep up the soothing touch. He is the first, since his cousin, to have touched me gently for longer than I care to think about.

He picks me up, far more easily than it seems he should be able to, and carries me to the velvet-covered couch. He settles into it, yanking off his armor and my own before cuddling me against him. "Are you a warrior, still, Raditz?"

I shake my head. I am not a warrior, for all that I was dressed as one as soon as I got out of the tank. I haven't been able to consider myself a warrior… I don't know how long it has been. There are still gaps in my memory, things I should know that I don't. I don't properly understand why I don't remember them, or how I know that I don't remember, which is even more troubling. He asks again, and I suppose that he took my head shaking for part of the rest of the trembling my body can't seem to stop. "No. Not… not for a long time."

"You told me something of your life after Jilt left." He leaves it open. I suppose he expects me to continue to tell him about it, but I don't want to. I'm afraid to. I manage to make a slight scoffing sound, aimed at myself. I'm a Saiyan, and afraid. Those two words aren't supposed to go together.

"What doesn't kill me only makes me stronger," I whisper, instead of telling him what I think he wants to know. "I am… physically stronger."

He is quiet, and I know he is thinking about what I have said, how I have acted. For a long time, he does nothing but hold me and stroke through my hair, and I do nothing but lean into him and purr softly, even though my tail is wrapped so tightly around my waist I am in danger of snapping the bones again. It relaxes slowly… and so do I. I know there are tears slipping down my cheeks again, but this time I don't care. I feel safe enough to allow them to fall, safe enough to turn my head so they soak into the blue suit he wears. His only reaction is to pull me closer as he promises to help me heal.