Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Confessions Of A Believer: II ❯ Shadows Of Nothing ( Chapter 9 )

It was late by the time we'd arrived back at Capsule Corp. Tired, I said goodnight to Bulma and Vegeta and headed for my room. I paused at Chikara's door, walking into the room to gaze down at my sleeping son. He looked so peaceful, his lips curled into a smile as he dreamed. Reaching down, I ran my hand over his cheek, bending down to brush my lips lightly across his brow.

"Sleep tight, little one," I whispered as he muttered something in his sleep, his tail wrapped about his waist, "I love you."

Leaving his room, yawning, I went back to my own, getting undressed and donning a pink and white nightshirt that came down to my knees that had "Almost Perfect" written across it in cursive lettering. I had just crawled under the covers when I heard the voices from the living room pick up. Vegeta and Bulma were fighting. Again. They fought alot, I noticed. Covering my head with the pillow, I tried to drown them out.

"No!" I heard Bulma yell, I wished they'd keep it down, people were trying to sleep, "Vegeta, get away from me! I told you I'm not in the mood!"

"Your never in the mood anymore!" Vegeta's voice, angry, frustrated, "You have to do what I say, woman!"

"Oh do I?" Bulma said, "Just leave me alone! Go work out in the gravity room or something!" I heard footsteps and a door slamming. I wondered if it were just her getting older that had put such a damper on her libido. I heard more footsteps and another door, the front door, I think, slamming shut as well.

Vegeta must have taken her up on her advice and gone to his gravity room. I saw a light from the hallway flick on and got up, padding down the hall to Chikara's room. The boy had been woken up by the noise and sat up in bed rubbing his eyes and looking around.

"It's okay, Chikara," I said, sitting down next to him, "Go back to sleep."

"What's going on, Mom?" He asked, his voice scratchy from sleep, "Why's Dad yelling at Bulma?"

"I don't know," I said, not ready to explain some things to a five year old, not yet, "Come here, I'll rock you back to sleep."

I held out my arms to him and he hesitated for a moment, I know he was thinking that warriors don't allow thier Moms to rock them to sleep, but he sighed and curled up into my lap anyway and I wrapped my arms about his little body, moving back and forth. I sang Anne Murray's "Danny's Song" softly under my breath to him, one of my hands stroking his hair in a soothing rhythum until his eyelids drooped closed once more and he went limp in my arms.

"People smile and tell me I'm the lucky one, and we've just begun, I think I'm gonna have a son." I sang softly, knowing my voice isn't very good and I can't really carry a tune, but not caring as he didn't seem to mind, "He will be like him and me, as free as dove, conceived in love, the sun is gonna shine above..."

I sang the song to it's conclusion, probably messing up a few of the lyrics, but it didn't matter. Not really. It had put Chikara to sleep.

Kissing his nose as I picked him up and laid him back down in bed, I pulled the covers back up and headed back into my own room, meaning to follow my son's example and go to sleep.

I was woken up sometime later by the feeling of something holding me down. My mind still in a fog of sleep, I felt warmth on my neck and someone pushing my nightshirt up over my chest. Slowly, I realized that the sheets and blankets had been pushed off the bed near the edge, probably by myself since I tended to move about alot in my sleep, and the cool air on my skin left goosebumps in it's wake. My nose wrinkled at the smell of sweat and tried to push the weight off of me so I could wake completely up and figure out what was going on.

"Shh!" I heard Vegeta's voice near my ear, tickling it, "It's just me. Don't fight me..."

My mind cleared as one of his hands brushed against my thigh. Somewhere in the back of my mind I was yelling at myself for being an idiot and diving right back into the same old mess, but as his fingers found themselves inside me, thrusting in and out, my body began to heat in a familiar feeling that seemed to burn me from the inside out. Closing my eyes, I leaned into him as I felt his hardness pressing against me.

Running my hands along his shoulders and back, I noticed he'd not changed from the one-piece black spandex-like suit he wore to train in, though it was ripped in several places. I wondered if he'd just gotten back from the gravity room as he paused above me to remove the rest of the garment.

I saw his eyes from the little nightlight I always kept on plugged into an outlet in the wall next to my bed. I am horribly afraid of the dark, so I always sleep with a light on. His expression scared me. It was almost like he was a predator and I was the prey.

Closing my eyes, I did not want to see his face when he looked at me that way, I forced myself to shove all thoughts of self-disgust and other negative emotions away as I felt his hands forcing my legs apart, his pelvis bearing down hard on me and making me gasp in sudden pain.

Biting my lip to keep from crying out as he entered me, part of me prayed that no one would catch us, but part of me prayed someone would, as well. I had never experienced such a mixture of emotions in all my life.

Slick with sweat, he grabbed my hair and slammed into me, gunting as he did so. I made small noises in my throat, trying to keep as quiet as I could and dug my hands into his shoulders, feeling myself being lifted highter in a climatic vortex. I felt him stiffen above me and bury his face in the space between my neck and shoulder, breathing heavily into my skin for several long moments.

Warm stickness flowed into me as he continued to move inside me, swiftly growing soft once more until he I felt him slip out of me completely. He didn't even speak to me when he was done. I watched him stand up, pick up the tattered peices of his training uniform and walk, naked, out of the room and down the hall.

A moment later I heard a door clicking shut and water running. Still dripping from his recent manipulation of me, I curled up into a ball on the bed. The musky scent of the evidence of his being with me assailed my nostrils. After a while I knew I had to get up and get cleaned up and made my way towards the downstairs bathroom.

Without thinking, only reacting, (I think I may have just broken down and started screaming and throwing things if I'd paused to really think about what had just happened. Again), I went through the motions of taking a shower and cleaning myself up. All the while I was screaming inside my head.

Why did you let him to that again?! I cried to myself as shampoo got into my eyes, He doesn't care for you, stupid girl, he's only using you!

Stupid girl...

Stupid girl...

Stupid...

Standing at the sink, a towel wrapped about my form, tucked over my breasts, I had been holding the drinking glass I had just used after brushing my teeth. I had been holding it so tight that I jumped a bit when I felt it break in my hand, sending shards of glass into my palm. Dropping the glass into the sink, I watched as the water in the sink turned pink with my blood with a kind of morbid fastination.

Carefully I removed the glass sticking to my palm and fingers and held my hand under the running tap, washing it off as best I could. I held one of Bulma's mother's hand towels around my hand to staunch the flow of blood and, once that was done, put some ointment on the cuts and found a bandage in the medicine cabinet.

Then, I walked back to my room and went about the task of changing the sheets on the bed. As I did so, my drawing pad and pencils fell from beneath my pillow next to the wall and I watched as it landed on the floor, it's page falling open to a picture of Vegeta I had done several months before I went to the anime convention. Without thinking, I bent down and and tore it from the pad. Folding it over, I ripped it down the center, then I folded the pieces and ripped them too. I kept ripping untill the area around the bed was filled with tiny, confetti-like peices of paper, all the while I kept telling myself what a complete weak-willed moron I was.