Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Downward Spiral ❯ Chapter Three ( Chapter 3 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Alone he sat cross-legged within the dark shade of an elm tree, his dark black eyes falling emotionless upon the Son house, it filled him with the most horrible feeling, never had the large building before filled him with such dread or intimidation. He looked away from Goku's home and shook such emotions from himself angrily. To think, in a few minutes he'd have to knock upon that door and face what lay inside - why did he have to promise that baka that he'd meet and talk to him? Kami how he was regretting it . . .

The rising sun sent a serene red glow across the woods, casting shadows far and wide; Vegeta flinched as the bright light struck his eyes and blinded him. He looked back to the house. Lights were flicking on from within some of the rooms, casting silhouettes of chibi Goten and Chi-Chi across the opening curtains. He watched the life within the building hoping it would serve as some distraction, but as his fingers played with the cold metal of the blade he realised it wouldn't serve any such relief.

Kami - how long was it till seven-thirty?

It felt as if the blade was etching itself into his mind, blinding him and begging to be used, urging him to be brought to his skin. As much as he fought such thoughts the feeling, the need carried on. A cool morning breeze brushed the skin of his tanned chest, he shuddered; he could feel his breath leaving him as fear kicked in. He brought the blade to his bare chest. He held it steady, watching it, holding it to him but not moving it . . .

He couldn't describe how he felt. It was like a black hole was consuming him, dragging him down into some oblivion like void, pulling him in against his will, the sorrow that weighted on his mind covered his sight like a black veil and begged to be lifted. Only the blade brought such relief. The emotions he learnt to deal with, he hated the despair, the hate, the isolation, but he dealt with it, the blade and blood rid him of it - but the fear he felt now?

That emotion he could not escape nor relieve. Why was he scared of talking to Kakarott for anyway? It was ridiculous to fear something like that and even more so to feel the emotion itself. He was a Saiyan Prince! Fear was a weak emotion that he should not feel! It wasn't right or normal. He needed punishment, he needed release - just one stroke and it would calm him down, take away the edge of the emotion and help.

Digging the blade into his chest he bit into his lip, the pain was sharp, stinging and acute, enough to make him wince, but he had to do this, it was necessary! Blood bubbled as the metal scraped and sliced through the skin, turning into a deep red line. He closed his eyes; he felt calmer, relaxed and even his breathing had slowed down. Smiling he made more, making a total of five. The fear faded quickly as the blood poured over him, it was the most welcomed feeling in the world.

Wiping the blood away he quickly pulled on his shirt shoving the blade into his pocket, pulling his jacket over him for warmth. The trickling of the blood comforted him, it was like finally he had a way to let out his pain, the pain he couldn't allow himself to feel and finally he had a way to relax himself. The blade was like an old friend that you could always rely on . . .

Standing shakily Vegeta wandered over to the Son residence, knocking the door loudly. The sound of Gohan's voice echoed through the house deafeningly.

“I'll get it!”

Vegeta waited as the key turned in the lock and the door swung open, revealing an extremely tired and half-dressed Gohan, pulling at the sleeves of his open shirt and hopping with one shoe. He looked at Vegeta with total confusion.

“Vegeta? What are you doing here at this time?” His eyes trailed to Vegeta's chest where small red spots had appeared on his shirt. He eyebrows knotted in a curious confusion. “What's that on your shirt?”

“Red paint.” He answered straight-faced. “That onna's painting one of the guest rooms and demanded that I help.”

“Funny, can't remember Bulma mentioning it to me.”

“She wouldn't, she only just decided she disliked the colour this morning.”

“Oh . . . okay.” He paused, looking at Vegeta sceptically; he seemed stern and serious as ever. He shook his head and forced a smile. “Well if you need any help I could come round after school -.”

“That won't be necessary. I can do it alone.”

Vegeta's cold eyes traced the entrance hall to the Son residence and then turned to observe Gohan. His gaze landed sharply upon his arms.

Dark suspicions consumed Vegeta once more as Gohan tugged sharply on his sleeves, as if he was trying to hide something; if Vegeta didn't know better . . . He let lose a low growl. Something wasn't right and he knew it. Usually it wouldn't matter to him, but the way he acted was so familiar. He was hiding his arms the exact same way that Vegeta hid his chest, and what was with his behaviour earlier and his sleeping in Bulma's laboratory? This was ridiculous. Surely he was just reading too much into things. Gohan wasn't the sort to do such things, but moreover why did Vegeta even care?

Scratching his neck nervously Gohan looked behind Vegeta as if expecting someone else to be there. “So I guess you're here for dad, huh?”

“No a train. Why? Has that damn baka forgotten that I was -?”

“Chill! He's just finishing breakfast, why don't you come in and I'll go get him.” Holding the door open the Saiyan Prince remained still. Gee, what was his problem today? “Vegeta?” His eyes moved to the obsidian ones opposite, the usual spark of anger seemed extinguished but there was something else aflame, something he couldn't place.

Slowly Vegeta walked in, pushing past Gohan and heading for the family room. He quickly found himself a seat and fell into the soft material. Gohan rolled his eyes as he slammed the door closed.

“Please, sit down.” He said sarcastically. Shaking his head he made his way to the kitchen.

Vegeta took in a deep breath, his eyes skimmed the brightly lit room, it was certainly well lived in and quite messy too. Books were piled upon tables, food was scattered everywhere, and all sorts of toys were dashed about. It was more than strange. Chi-Chi wasn't usually one for letting anything go two minutes without being tidied and cleaned - it didn't seem right. He foot kicked a book lying on the floor, a textbook of some kind, probably belonging to the brat that answered the door. A low sigh escaped his lips, Kami he hated this place.

Within a few seconds Goku was racing Goten into the living room, laughing wildly. Goten skidded along the floor and nearly tripped over a pile of clothes as Goku came behind him.

“Okay, you beat me son!”

“Ha, knew I'd win! You're too slow!” Goten jumped up into his arms with a large smirk and a large hug.

“Yeah, well don't get too cocky! When you get back from school I'll race you to Piccolo's and then we'll see who's really the fastest!”

“Cool! Can Trunks come? Oh - and Gohan?”

With another laugh, Goku gave a wink and a nod. “Sure, why not? As long as Gohan isn't busy and Miss Briefs doesn't mind.”

“Cool! I'm going to go call Trunks now and see if he wants to!”

Eagerly the chibi jumped down and raced through the room to the phone grabbing and dialling as Super Saiyan speed. Waving a hand to Vegeta Goku made his way over to him and fell onto the floor cross-legged; gazing up to the Prince he gave an apologetic smile and wink.

“Hi `Geta! You came early, didn't you?”

“No earlier than usual.”

As Goku leant back Goten raced past and dived across the floor. “Mrs Briefs said it was okay for Trunks to come! He couldn't answer the phone though as he's grounded till this afternoon.”

“Okay son.”

“Uh-oh! Got to go dad! Gohan's leaving and he's taking me to school! Bye!” Within seconds the chibi had darted off again through the kitchen doors, the door swung behind him before closing. Vegeta groaned, rolling his eyes, a hand brushed through his hair as annoyance struck.

“That brat of yours has some energy.”

Goku gave a chuckle. “Yeah, he gets that from me. So why's Trunks grounded? You never mentioned that last time I saw you.”

“Why should I? It's not something that I'd know. What that bastard does isn't my concern unless he skips training or breaks the GR.”

A low sigh escaped Goku's lips. Since when did Vegeta take a dislike to Trunks? He never heard him use that language about his son before, and usually he was always with him training, playing and teaching him new things. Why the sudden resentment? Man, he seemed really different, this wasn't right - and the way the Prince looked was so disconcerting, he wished there was something he could do to help, but that's why Vegeta was here, wasn't it? If they had a proper conversation then maybe he could find out something useful.

His eyes trailed over Vegeta's body. He looked amazing as usual, tight black jeans, brown jacket and brown shirt scattered with - with red . . . No. No, Vegeta hadn't -. Had he? Damn it! If Vegeta needed to do something like that why hadn't he come to Goku to talk about it before he did? Goku would have done all he could to stop `Geta cutting and to help him! Wait, how did he know that it was even blood? Who was to say that he had cut himself again? He could ask, but how would he react to that? His heart raced with worry as his mouth opened and closed, searching for the right words. Gulping loudly he breathed deeply and let the words come to him.

“'Geta? What's - what's that on your shirt?”

Vegeta's eyes gazed down. Specks of blood were still seeping through, larger than before and darker as the stain grew. “Paint. Bulma wanted me to repaint the guest rooms.”

Goku gave a nervous chuckle. “Oh, that's it? You had me worried! Well, why don't you take it off, Chi-Chi's in the other room I'm sure she won't mind washing it.”

“No. My old cuts are still visible I'd rather have her not see them.”

“Well, just do your jacket up when it's off - don't mind me, I've already saw them last night, didn't I?”

“No Kakarott, I'm okay, I can promise you.”

Goku's eyes trailed over the red flecks, maybe it was his imagination but they seemed to be growing larger, as if the true source of the colour was still seeping, still active. He was lying wasn't he? Goku's heart dropped, his suspicions were right, damn. What could he do though? He didn't even know why!

“I'm sorry if I sound paranoid, but - . . . is that blood?”

Vegeta looked down into his eyes, but the sight forced him to look away, where he usually saw beauty was simply pain and worry, and it was caused by his own actions . . . He felt so guilty, his heart so twisted, it was like a knife stabbed into his chest. Why did he care what that baka felt? He wasn't cutting him, was he? Why did he feel so guilty? Never had he before felt regret! But when he gazed into those eyes it was all that filled him . . . Why?

“Does it matter if it is blood?”

“Yeah! It does, it matters a lot.”

“Why? It doesn't bother to me.”

“But it bothers me! If it's blood then it means you've cut yourself today, right before you came to see me - something had to have caused it, and I don't know what! I want to help you, `Geta, but I can't if I don't know why. If someone's doing something to you, tell me and I'll stop them . . .” He paused. “Are you really doing them yourself?”

“You think someone's doing them to me! No! They are done entirely by me.”

“I don't understand. Why? Please tell me. Why do you do it?” A low moan escaped his lips. Why as Vegeta doing this to himself? Didn't he realise how much he was hurting him? A thought struck Goku suddenly. Was this he fault? “Vegeta . . .” Just the thought that it might be because of him was too much to bear. He leant forward and rested a hand on the chair by Vegeta's knee, looking deep into his eyes. “Is it something that I did? I found out last night, is that why you did it today?”

It was Vegeta's turn to be surprised and hurt. “Of course not, this has nothing to do with you.”

“Then why?” Goku's hand moved onto Vegeta's holding it tightly for reassurance, mainly for himself. He needed some sort of closure, but most of all he needed to help him . . .

A loud cough came from the doorway causing both Saiyans to jump, Goku spun around to face the dark silhouette of Chi-Chi standing tall and glaring menacingly at him, releasing Vegeta's hand he looked away sheepishly and guilty.

“Oh, hi honey.”

Chi-Chi gave a sharp frown and placed both hands on her hips. “Don't call me that, please Goku. I'm sorry to interrupt you two Vegeta but this can't be helped, Goku I need you to remember our conversation earlier.”

“Conversation?” He searched his mind briefly and quickly found what Chi-Chi asked. He winced at the painful memories of the morning just passed, the verbal sparring, shouting, threats and other such things. They swept his mind agonisingly. Chi-Chi wasn't going to call a spade a spade in front of company; she'd use euphemisms for as long as she had to - but within his mind he knew `conversation' was far from what happened, `violent fight' would have been more accurate. “Yeah I remember.”

After all, how could he forget Goten weeping loudly, or Gohan locking himself in the bathroom? How could he forget the bruises he got and trying to explain them to his eight-year-old son? Or even trying to comfort Gohan, who unfortunately was old enough to understand what had happened, and what had been going on for months, years before . . .

What happened that morning in particular though was this; he'd just got home worried to death over Vegeta who was cutting himself, and trying to ignore the pain of a broken nose, when he found Chi-Chi - and that's when the `conversation' took place . . . This time more serious than usual.

She glared at him deeply than struck a look of death to Vegeta. “Goku - everything's waiting for you in our room, you have until tonight to move it - I want you out tonight.” With that she stormed out of the room leaving Goku shivering.

Vegeta looked down with complete confusion. “What the HFIL was that about?”

“Err - well . . .”

Goku shivered once more, what could he say? There were no words that could explain any of this.

“Is that harpy kicking you out?”

“Sort of . . .”

Vegeta fought a mental battle with himself; the idea of touching the third-class or trying to comfort him was one that part of him hated the idea of, but his feelings and emotions commanded he must. He decided it was perhaps best to console him and placed his hand on his shoulder, holding firmly as Goku leant back silently. He slid down off the chair beside him on the floor letting his arm drape around his shoulders.

“Tell me what's happening.”

“You'll still tell me about - . . . `you know what', afterwards?”

“You mean this?” He pointed to his chest. Goku nodded. “I promise I'll still talk to you about it, yes. Now what was that about?”

“Well, like you said Chi's kicking me out of the house. She told me she was getting a divorce a few months ago but I never thought she was serious, but now she's got my stuff packed in our - her room, and I've got until tonight to move it all. I don't really mind so much being homeless, I've got loads of places to go if I wanted, and I built this place myself so I could build another, it's just - . . . it's Goten I'm worried about, this morning he was weeping his eyes out and now he seems normal as ever! I think he's in denial.”

“You told him you were leaving last night?”

“No. It was just the usual, Chi-Chi was screaming at me because Gohan was out so late, you know? She said it was my fault and I was a bad influence. Then well - after she gave me all this verbal abuse everything got kind of violent, as it usually does.”

“You hit her!”

Even Vegeta was shocked - beyond shocked. What kind of man would do such an act? Kakarott certainly wasn't whom he thought. His body tensed in shock and horror and he turned fully to face him. How long had this man been doing such an appalling thing? And why?

“No! No I'd never do that! I swear to Kami, I'd never, ever hit her! She's the one who hit me!” He flinched. Did he really just admit that? Kami! He should have just let Vegeta thought he hit her, what would he think now? The pain struck him hard as the words he spoke echoed in his head. He forced a smile. “Don't look shocked. Anyway, that's when she brought up some old issues and told me she'd given me enough time to find a new place and I have to go tonight.”

Vegeta's head shook. “You're coming to my place.”

“What?

“You heard, Kakarott. You re staying with me until you can find somewhere more permanent.”

“Won't Bulma mind? I mean she is Chi-Chi's friend.”

“Yes, but she's your best friend, and besides you said it yourself that you have nowhere else to go. Don't think twice about it.”

“Thanks Vegeta.” He said weakly. . .