Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Deeper Scars ❯ Deeper Scars ( One-Shot )

“Hey Vegeta,” he called out as he appeared in the room, not giving the slightest regard to the other man's whereabouts. This, of course, was why he nearly tripped over him as he stepped forward. “…Oh! Sorry,” he scratched his head, grinning apologetically to the prince sitting on the floor. “I was just gonna ask you if you wanted to…ah…hey, whatcha doing?”

 

Vegeta growled under his breath at how easily distracted the other man was. “Kakarrot,” he replied simply, evading the question. He continued wrapping bandages around his arm, pretending Goku was not there.

 

Goku bent his knees to bring himself down to Vegeta's level, resting an arm on either leg and tilting his head curiously. “Bandages, huh? Have you been training hard?”

 

“No, Kakarrot! I've been drinking tea!” he spat. “Of course I've been training!”

 

“Ohh. It sure looks like it,” he nodded, first observing the blood and sweat that covered the walls of the gravity room, and then Vegeta himself. It seemed he had washed and wrapped most of his wounds, which were concentrated around his forearms, but there were a few on his face that were yet to be tended to. Goku fought a sudden impulse to reach forward and wipe the blood from his prince's brow. It was then that he noticed other wounds on Vegeta's beaten body - wounds that had already healed over. “Scars,” he stated simply, quietly, reaching forward and tracing over a particularly prominent one that slashed across Vegeta's chest. “So many,” he breathed softly.

 

Snarling, Vegeta grabbed Goku's wrist and pushed his hand away. “Stop,” he barked, and then sent the other Saiyajin a caustic glare as he continued wrapping another wound.

 

“How did you get it?” Goku continued, unperturbed, pointing to the scar he had touched.

 

Vegeta ignored him, tying the bandage.

 

“Was it…was it Freeza?”

 

“Hnh,” he graced him with a response this time, albeit one that did not answer the question.

 

“What did he do to you?” Goku pressed on, assuming the small grunt had been a yes.

 

“You don't want to hear about it,” Vegeta retorted, almost inaudibly.

 

Goku's eyebrows twisted his expression into one of sympathy and confusion. “Of course I do, Vegeta.”

 

“No, Kakarrot, because you are too empathetic, and I don't want your pity.”

 

“But I…” he couldn't say that he wouldn't pity the prince. “What about that one?” he pointed to another, that crossed Vegeta's left shoulder from front to back.

 

“Purging a planet,” he responded gruffly.

 

“What kind of planet?” Goku questioned, saddened at the thought of the act - and that the same was to be Earth's fate, had he and his friends not intervened - but at the same time thirsty, somehow, to know more about Vegeta and his past.

 

“The same kind of planet Freeza always took a liking to. Full of resources and easily manipulated subjects to rule - but these stood against him, so we killed him all to sell their planet. It was always easier that way anyway.”

 

The younger man nodded solemnly. “And that one?” he pointed to another scar.

 

“Freeza again.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“I wiped out the people on the planet when, as it turned out, he wanted to see if he could use them.”

 

“Why'd you do that?”

 

“Like I said…it was easier that way.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“And…” he glanced off into nowhere, seemingly glaring at the gravity room's wall. “…It was always more fun that way, too.”

 

Goku smiled sadly. Even he occasionally felt the Saiyan desire to kill, but it was always overridden by his morals, his common sense, his love for all things living.

 

Vegeta, moving his eyes back toward his subject, snorted at the sorrowful smile gracing the man's face. Normally, he would have sneered that such an expression was unbefitting for a Saiyajin…but it looked natural on Kakarrot. For a man he usually saw displaying so much gusto, the reserved acceptance of reality provided for an interesting change of perspective. Perhaps Goku had not been subject to as much adversity and pain as he had, but he'd had more than his fair share, compared to the pathetic humans he saw all around him. Goku took it all with a smile and a laugh, and Vegeta had never until now seen him display what was perhaps the pain that he hid beneath the childish grin. He brought a hand up and tapped a finger to the bottom of Goku's chin, but, realizing what he was doing, quickly drew back.

 

The other man's troubled smile brightened, and became a soft glow of joy. “What about that one?” he let his finger skate across the scar that slashed Vegeta's abdomen.

 

Vegeta shook at the sensation, and mentally chastised himself for letting his reaction show. Kakarrot's touch was so gentle…perhaps it had tickled him, and that was why he quivered. But, Goku did not seem to have noticed, so Vegeta let it pass without further self-criticism. “From Freeza.”

 

“Again?”

 

“As most are.”

 

Goku gazed slowly once more over Vegeta's body. “All of those…?”

 

“Most of them.”

 

The sorrowful smile once again spread over his face. Vegeta snorted in some twisted mix of disapproval and fondness. The man always feels like he has to smile. Why? Saiyajin don't smile like that.

 

But Kakarrot does.

 

“But the scars aren't really significant,” Vegeta continued after an uncomfortable stretch of silence in which Goku held his gaze on the prince. “Those only come from physical pain, and only mark the skin. There are deeper scars.”

 

Goku nodded knowingly, solemnity once more ruling his features. “I know. I see them, I hear them, all over you, Vegeta. In your eyes…in your voice… Even if the wounds seem to have healed, they'll always be scars.”

 

Vegeta lowered his head, staring thoughtfully at the lines that crossed his body. Something he recognized - but refused to accept - stung his eyes.

 

“And just like this scar, and this scar…” Goku continued softly, tracing his fingers over two of the many marks on his prince's skin, “…those other ones will never, ever go away. That's why they're scars. And that's why people can't change you to what they want to, Vegeta. Because there are scars, and they don't disappear. Right?”

 

Overwhelmed, Vegeta collapsed forward into Goku's arms. “How dare you…Kakarrot…” he nearly wept, and tried in vain to beat Goku's chest with one fist. “…You're not supposed to be intelligent…you're not supposed to understand…”

 

“Maybe I'm not very smart,” he wrapped his arms around Vegeta, stroking another scar down the prince's back. “But I understand feelings. Hey, Vegeta…I want to think that I'm not really like those other people. I'm not going to try to get rid of your scars. I'm just going to try to help you see how they can look nice on you.”

 

“I…I…” Vegeta pulled back, wiping his eyes and sending an accusatory glare toward Goku, as if looking tough right now would erase the fact that he had cried. When the other man did not seem amused by Vegeta's loss of pride, his glare softened. “I…would like that.”

 

“Good,” he smiled, and the glow lit up Vegeta's heart.

 

“Kakarrot,” Vegeta hesitantly returned the smile. “You are a fool.”

 

“Thanks, Vegeta.” If it was possible, the smile warmed. Goku leaned forward as if to look at the older man's face more closely. “This one - how did you get this scar?”

 

“Which one?” Vegeta reached up to his face, confused.

 

Goku pulled Vegeta's hand away. “This one. Right here,” he tilted his head forward, pressing their mouths together. He lingered for a moment, and then pulled back, fear and a nervous questioning shining through his eyes and replacing the smile momentarily.

 

“Moron,” Vegeta reached up to place a finger over his own mouth, mystified. “Those are my lips.”