Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Dragon Ball VE: The Keeper Saga ❯ Chapter 9

Dragon Ball Vegeta's Era: The Keeper Saga

 

Chapter Nine

 

 

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ. I do, however, own the plot of DBVE and all of the original characters that might appear.

 

Author's Notes: Important author's notes will be located at the end of this chapter. Please read them once you have finished reading the chapter.

 

Co-written by: Mia Skywalker

 

~*~

 

…Blood. He was coated in so much blood. They had both been in Oozaru form, and her blood had rained down on him when he turned back to normal. The blood had coated everything, even the two creatures killed during the battle. Two beautiful animals that would never fly again. Animals that were dead while the creature responsible still lived, though just barely. But the egg could be saved….

 

…A mental distress call sounded in his head, a cry for help. He would kill his tormentor later….

 

…He was in the main part of the ship, fighting through the aliens. One of the aliens had altered the main controller of the collars. Some of their power had been restored, but not all. They would have to destroy the controller in order to go home….

 

… Too many aliens, too many trying to come up on his blind side. A little girl's shriek of anger and fear. He turned in dread in time to see the danger behind him. Brightly colored streams of energy twisted and twined together, destroying the one who had almost killed him. And behind the dead man, there was yellow hair where once there had been blue, there and gone again before he could be sure of what he had seen….

 

…She was dead. Her killer stood before him, wearing her blood, though not as much of it as he did. Silently, her killer thrust his hand out, offering a heart, still dripping with blood….

 

… “For you, Ackay Ayanni….”

 

Vegeta jerked awake, breathing heavily. He shuddered and slowly got up, his abused body protesting the movement. He ignored it and made his way to the closet, pulling on a pair of soft, slightly baggy black pants.

 

He had only been able to get three hours of sleep, but knew there was no point in even attempting to go back to bed. Not after dreaming about what had happened. He quietly headed for the door, stopping once to retrieve the capsule that he had had in his pocket the day he was kidnapped. Then he left the room, careful not to awaken Bulma. There were many things he had to do. Now was as good a time to begin as any.

 

…

 

Bulma woke to the soft breathing beside her, and smiled drowsily. She opened her eyes, wanting to see her husband sleeping soundly next to her, but to her surprise, her gaze encountered a bright blue shock of hair that matched her own. She sat up quickly and looked down at her daughter. What was Bra doing in her bed?

 

She noticed the girl's damp hair, and freshly scrubbed look, which reminded her that she had her own shower to take. Smiling down at the little girl, Bulma lightly kissed her brow before slipping out of bed, careful not to wake her up. Bra was obviously still exhausted and after what she had been through, Bulma wanted to let her have as much sleep as she needed.

 

Bulma's showers never took very long and that day was no exception. Normally, she would spend a bit of time on her makeup and hair, but other than a careful amount to enhance her features, she didn't spend much time on it. She was eager to find her husband and find out what he was doing.

 

She had no doubt that he had gone to the gravity room to begin his morning workout. Undoubtedly that's where he would have gone in such a hurry, since he always liked to wake up early to begin training. She would have liked to have spent a little time with him this morning, but she had to admit to herself that she did enjoy watching him go through his various athletic routines.

 

She heard the baby fussing in the room next to theirs as she passed by it, but she deliberately ignored it. The robots would take care of the child. She didn't want anything to do with it. It was a reminder of the tortures Vegeta had had to face this past year, and she wished fervently that it didn't exist. Had that baby not been born, she would have had her Vegeta back earlier. She hated it.

 

She paused in the dining room only long enough to grab a cup of coffee and a pastry, then headed towards her lab where she could view the monitors to watch Vegeta. To her surprise, she didn't have to turn the monitors on to see him; Vegeta was in her lab, sitting on the floor and very calmly sorting through her tools.

 

“It would be much easier for you to find things if you kept them organized. I would suggest an alphabetical system as well as one based on the various tool sizes,” Vegeta said, not bothering to turn toward her or stop what he was doing.

 

His wounds had all been dressed, a length of white gauze wrapped snuggly around his left shoulder and upper arm. An assortment of screwdrivers, already sorted to Vegeta's satisfaction, had been set aside while he worked on the wrenches.

 

Bulma stared at him. Vegeta sorting through her wrenches was not what she had expected. She had always known he was a neat freak, but he'd never before shown any interest in her tools.

 

“Vegeta, I've always been able to find what I needed. They were sorted well enough for me to find things. I can't always re-sort them whenever I work on things, or I would be spending all of my time doing that and not actually working.” She had a lab assistant who came in once a week and actually sorted through things the way Vegeta was doing, but he had been on vacation for the past two weeks. She didn't tell Vegeta that, however.

 

She shook her head, then sat down on the floor across from him. “Never mind that. Are you all right, Vegeta? I thought I would find you in your training room.”

 

“Hn. There is no reason at the moment to push myself while I am injured. If I was preparing for something, such as when we had to deal with the androids, I would ignore any damage to myself, but a true warrior always knows that it is best to allow your body to heal when you have the option.”

 

He continued to sort, acting as if everything was normal. As if he had not just returned from a yearlong captivity.

 

He finally looked at her, then inclined his head toward the portable incubator he had tucked into the corner of the room. “Would you turn the egg? The parents normally turned it once every few hours. I am unsure if it was to keep even heat, or to keep things from settling all in one place.”

 

Bulma blinked, having been too focused on her husband to notice the incubator before this. She walked over to it and bent down, looking in through the glass on the door.

 

“An egg? What sort of thing is it?” Her parents sometimes brought eggs of various creatures in to hatch and raise, especially when the parents had any sort of accident and couldn't do it themselves. She had never really studied zoology, however, so had no idea how to recognize what sort of creature this would prove to be.

 

“It's a laquri egg. They were flying furred creatures that my people kept as pets and hunting companions.” There was a slightly sad and wistful tone to his voice as he spoke. “The parents of that one befriended me, but were killed during my battle with Kiddae. I rescued the egg, and also brought back some frozen embryos the Keepers had.”

 

He set down the last of the wrenches and lithely got to his feet, padding over beside her. “I do not think they were genetically engineered. There were several Saiyan laquri breeders who were willing to trade eggs and babies for technology. The animals were very popular with hunters.”

 

Bulma nodded. A little bit of his destroyed homeworld. She could understand why Vegeta might have risked a bit to save this egg. She was one of the few who really understood him, and she knew how incredibly lonely he was. She hoped the creature wasn't dangerous, but even if it was, she wasn't going to take it away from him.

 

After carefully shifting the egg, she turned back toward Vegeta, studying him a moment before reaching one hand out to gently cup his scarred cheek, her thumb drifting gently across the old wounds. “I missed you,” she said softly, smiling wistfully.

 

Vegeta didn't say anything in reply, didn't tell her with words that he had missed her as well. But he did let her know. He moved forward, pushing her gently against the wall, and kissed her deeply, his tongue flicking into her mouth and slowly exploring.

 

Bulma slid her arms around him, happy to have him home, and knowing now that he had missed her as much as she had missed him.

 

…

 

Gohan's arrival later that morning was both unexpected and unceremonious. He ignored the startled looks of the Capsule Corp workers when he landed in the compound around the Briefs' home and headed straight toward where he sensed Bulma's presence.

 

He was only slightly surprised to note that she was in her lab and that Vegeta was elsewhere, though not too far away. He had known Videl wouldn't want to let him out of her sight so soon, so had left before she had awakened. He had left her a note saying he would be back soon, but gave no more information than that. He hoped it wouldn't upset her too much. This was something he had to do.

 

He had expected Bulma to be as possessive of Vegeta's attention, but he realized he shouldn't have. His moody prince would need some time to himself, and despite what most of her friends thought, Bulma had always been sensitive to Vegeta's moods. She would give him space when he needed it, though if he swung too far toward depression or rage, she was very good at snapping him back to his version of normal.

 

Gohan managed to avoid direct contact with Vegeta as he went to see Bulma, though he had no doubt that the Saiyan prince knew he was there. Neither one of them had even attempted to contact the other since their return home, even though it had become almost instinctive during their time in space.

 

He found Bulma in her lab, the door lock recognizing his handprint and opening for him without raising the alarm. She didn't seem to have noticed his entrance, so he cleared his throat. She looked up at him in surprise.

 

“Gohan? What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with Videl?”

 

Gohan frowned, trying to think how to phrase it. The past year of constant telepathic contact had changed the way he tried to communicate with others. It was very difficult adjusting to the fact that he didn't have to pretend one thing when speaking while only telling the full truth of something when communicating telepathically.

 

“Bulma, I need to talk to you. About Vegeta.” His expression was serious, almost grim. The blue-haired inventor's eyes widened in alarm, wondering what he could possibly be that serious about.

 

“What's wrong, Gohan? He told me a little bit about what happened, but I know it wasn't everything.”

 

Gohan's face grew, if possible, even grimmer. “That's what I need to talk to you about. Vegeta will never tell you the truth about what happened, so I will. He feels that he deserves to be punished for betraying you, but I want you to know the truth.”

 

He pulled up a chair next to her, and she turned away from her computer, giving him her full attention. He told her everything he could think of - how Vegeta had been raped and mutilated by Kiddae, how the Keepers refused to heal him, claiming his injuries were normal. How Vegeta had insisted that both he and Gohan stop fighting the Keepers, for the sake of Bra. He even told her of the one Keeper who had helped them protect the little girl. Finally, he told her of their escape, of Vegeta's fight with Kiddae, which had ended before her death. The only thing that had stopped him from claiming her life with his own hands had been a mental call for help from Bra.

 

“Once all but one of the Keepers was dead, my prince went back to finish the job. I used instant transmission to get there first. When he got to the habitat, I offered him her heart, as I had sworn that I would.”

 

As he finished his tale, Bulma stared at him with tears in her eyes, stunned. She had known it would be bad, but she hadn't expected it to be quite that bad, for any of them.

 

“Thank you for telling me,” Bulma finally whispered. “I knew he hadn't betrayed me, even though he seems to think he did.”

 

Gohan didn't say anything in answer to that, just handed her some senzu beans. “My father got several of these from Korin this morning. I told him that I'd bring some here for Vegeta.”

 

At that, he stood and left the lab, heading for home. Bulma quietly watched him go, wishing that she could bring back the happy, nearly carefree Gohan of old. She knew, though, that he would never quite be like that again.

 

…

 

Around noon, a creature that could have easily been mistaken for one of the undead lurched into the kitchen at Capsule Corp, its lavender hair sticking out at odd angles. It squinted its eyes against the bright light as it made its way to the coffee maker.

 

“Good `morning', Trunks,” Bulma said, her voice slightly tinged with humor, as she fixed lunch for herself and Bra.

 

Trunks gave a caveman-like grunt as he got a coffee cup from the cabinet. “Un. Hi, Mom. Hi, Bra.” He poured himself some coffee and took a long drink, sighing slightly as the glorious caffeine began to hit his system.

 

He had just started on his second sip when something he had subconsciously noticed finally penetrated. He swallowed wrong. “Bra?” he gasped in shock, choking and sputtering on his coffee.

 

“Hi, Trunks,” the little girl said, waving at him. She was well rested, but looked a little haunted and unsure of herself.

 

Before she could even finish her wave, Trunks was there, scooping her into the air and holding her close, giving a whoop of joy. “Oh, sweetie, I missed you.”

 

“Missed you, too, Trunks,” she murmured, nuzzling her big brother's shoulder.

 

Trunks held her tight, glancing over at their mother. “When?”

 

“Last night,” Bulma replied, setting down two plates. “They were so tired that I decided to let them sleep instead of waking you up for a family reunion.”

 

“Then Dad and Gohan are back too,” he said, gently setting Bra down so she could eat. At his mother's nod, he raced out of the kitchen and up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

 

He had to wake Goten up and give him the news. He'd be ecstatic that everyone was finally home.

 

“Goten, wake up!” he yelled, pounding on the door.

 

“Dun' wanna,” came the muffled reply.

 

“Get your lazy ass out of bed! They're home! They're finally home.”

 

There were several thumps and the sound of random cursing before Goten finally flung the door open, eyes and hair equally wild. “All of them? Gohan, Vegeta, and Bra?”

 

“Yes, and get some pants on, damn it,” Trunks said, shielding his eyes from his best friend's nakedness. “I'm sure they'd love to see you, but not that much of you.”

 

With a sheepish grin, Goten dived back into his room and pulled on a pair of pants before joining Trunks once again in the hallway. They were racing for the stairs to head back down when a sound stopped them both dead in their tracks.

 

A baby was crying.

 

…

 

Bulma was programming one of the robots to clean the dishes when she noticed Trunks standing in the doorway, staring at her with an odd expression on his face. “Trunks?” she asked, looking curiously at him. “Is something wrong?”

 

“There's a baby in Bra's old nursery, right next to your room. Why are robots looking after her?”

 

Bulma's face tightened as she turned away from him, unnecessarily fiddling with the programming controls on the dishwashing robot. “The baby is fine, Trunks. You don't need to worry about it.”

 

“I looked at her, Mama. I saw the tail and the spiky black hair. She's a Saiyan. She's that girl who came from the future, the one whose face looked so much like a girl version of Dad's. She has to be. She's Dad's baby. She's my little sister,” Trunks said with quiet intensity. “Why is she being left alone, with no one but robots to care for her? When Bra was a baby, you held her all the time. You told me that a baby was happiest and healthiest if it had plenty of human interaction. Why are you denying that to my new little sister?”

 

Bulma was silent for a long moment, her back still toward Trunks. “You don't understand. She's not… she's not….” Bulma choked on her grief, then stood up, tears welling up in her eyes. “Bra, go outside and play for a while, will you, sweetie? I need to talk to your brother alone for a few minutes.”

 

The girl studied her briefly before answering. “Okay, Mama,” she said softly, sliding out of her chair. She looked back over her shoulder before heading out the door. “She's my little sister too, Mama. I'm glad we waited for her to be born, even if it meant I had to kill to protect Daddy when we broke into the nursery.”

 

Bulma's hands shook at that declaration. One more thing to hate the baby - and the Keepers- for. Her little girl should never have been forced to learn such violence. She dismissed the fact that Gohan had been even younger when his father had sacrificed his life to save the boy from his own uncle. She'd never been happy about that, either, but Gohan was male. It seemed so much worse for her little princess, her sweet little girl, to be tortured and taught how to kill.

 

Bulma waited until Bra had closed the door behind her, then sank down in one of the chairs and allowed her tears to fall. “Trunks, you need to understand. That baby, it isn't… it isn't mine, and it isn't Vegeta's. It's that… that thing's. That thing those creatures created. Do you know what your father called their created female Saiyan? `The Abomination'. That little infant is the child of that thing. The creature who raped your father, who tore his eye out, who tortured him. She did all that, and you want me to accept her baby?”

 

“No,” Trunks said softly. “I want you to accept Dad's baby. She's innocent, Mama. She didn't make the Keepers kidnap our loved ones. She didn't make the female Saiyan rape Dad.”

 

He moved closer to her, each point accented by a step in her direction until he had his hands resting gently on her shoulders. “Would Dad have brought her home if he considered her the child of his rapist? Half of the blood that runs through her veins is the same that runs through mine. It's Dad's blood. By denying her, you are denying something that is a part of him. I hate what happened to him - I wish there was a way I could make it so he was never taken at all - but I don't hate that baby. I love Dad too much to hate anything that carries his blood in its veins.”

 

Trunks' words were like a slap in the face. Bulma stood up abruptly, glaring at him angrily. “You don't understand! I can't accept that baby because… because it's what kept him from me! He stayed there for that baby, and he was tortured because of it! If it hadn't been for that baby, Vegeta and Bra would have been home months ago! Gohan told me they only stayed to make sure they got the baby out too. I wish it had never been born!”

 

“Well, we can't always have whatever selfish thing we wish for, even with the dragon balls,” Trunks said harshly. “If that were so, Dad would never even have come to this planet. I've heard about how you and the others tried to wish that he and Nappa wouldn't make it here. You thought he was a horrible thing that you didn't want here, and he turned out to be a good husband and a loving father. What could that baby be if given half a chance?”

 

“You will never understand!” she cried out, turning on her heel and storming out of the kitchen. She ran upstairs to her room, slamming the door shut behind her. She vaguely remembered that the last time she had shouted something like that, before fleeing to her room, had been when she was ten. She felt strangely like a small child who had been scolded for doing something wrong, like a spoiled brat who had been sent to her room and was having a temper tantrum.

 

“No! I am not in the wrong here!” she insisted, angrily dashing tears from her cheeks. “I didn't ask for that brat! I just wanted my husband and daughter back - I didn't ask for that baby as well! It isn't even mine!”

 

Apparently, the sound of the door slamming followed by Bulma's angry yelling had frightened the baby, causing it to cry. The robot nannies assigned to the child were trying to soothe it, but nothing seemed to help.

 

“Stop it!” Bulma shrieked, pressing her hands against her ears in a futile attempt to block the loud wailing. “Stop it, stop it, stop it!”

 

She tore out the room, intent on doing something, anything, to stop the irritating sound. One of the robot nannies held the baby in its metallic arms, unsuccessfully attempting to determine the cause of her distress. Bulma snatched her from the robot, holding her out at arm's length.

 

Strangely, the baby quieted in Bulma's hands, staring at her almost mistrustfully. It stuffed a hand in its mouth, its face beginning to screw up into another cry. With a strangely maternal surge of protectiveness, Bulma drew the girl toward her, holding her against her chest. The baby calmed instantly, though she continued to whimper slightly for a bit.

 

Bulma stared down into the tiny face, seeing for the first time her husband's features.  For all that this baby was the result of Vegeta being forced to mate with another woman, it was his.  She could see it in the baby's nose, in its mouth, in its eyes.

Something wakened in Bulma then, something she had never expected.  She wanted to hate this baby.  It had taken her husband and daughter away from her for a year, and because of it her husband had been tortured mercilessly.  But the baby itself was innocent, as Trunks had insisted, and Bulma found her anger evaporating as she held it in her arms.

 

She gently rocked the baby, unaware of a presence in the doorway. Vegeta had sensed the baby's distress, and Bulma's as well. When he had located their ki, he had been dismayed to realize they were together. Knowing that she disliked the child, he had raced to the nursery, ready to prevent his wife from hurting his youngest daughter.

 

Shame filled him as he watched them together. He had automatically assumed that Bulma would harm the child, yet here she was, cradling it close and comforting it.

 

“The aliens named her Kiddasa,” he said softly, leaning against the doorframe. “I do not care for the name overmuch. It's too close to that abomination's name.”

 

Strangely, Bulma wasn't startled by Vegeta's voice, even though it was unexpected.  She turned to look at him, the anger she had felt earlier now completely gone.  She nodded at him, then looked down at the child.  It looked almost as much like Vegeta as Trunks had as a baby.  Bra had always looked almost identical to her, but Trunks - and now this new baby - were definitely Vegeta's.

“We should name her Kini,” she said quietly, then looked back up at the startled expression on his face.  "It can be short for Zukini, but it will also be a Briefs name that way.  Or... do you mind naming her that?"

 

“I don't mind. If she's going to be named after a parent, I would prefer it not be the thing that birthed her,” Vegeta said quietly. “And I will not call that creature her mother. You are Kini's mother, not Kiddae.”

 

Bulma felt her throat tighten and tears well up again.  She looked down at the baby to try to hide her emotions from him.  “Yes, I am.  Well, we'd better let our friends know about our new baby, don't you think?”  She smiled up at Vegeta through her tears. “They need to know there's a new Briefs now.”

 

He nodded once and wrapped one arm around her shoulders. Then they left the room, ready to show off Kini, their new daughter.

 

…

 

Author's Note: This is the end of The Keeper Saga. Now, I know you're probably thinking “but… but what about such-and-such plot line, and that one thing or other that you left hanging?” so I'll repeat: this is the end of The Keeper Saga. It is not however, the end of Dragon Ball VE. I've already started the second saga, The Shadowed Soul Saga, and plan to have at least two other sagas after it.