Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Everything Happens For A Reason ❯ Found Out ( Chapter 18 )

Everything Happens For A Reason

Chapter Seventeen

Found Out

Disclaimer: Never has been, never will be anything other than my fantasies. Everything else is AK's

***************************************

Vegeta wouldn't sleep - not until he found abatement for his anger. He wouldn't achieved this through high or noble feelings though, oh no! Vegeta was aiming for a state that would make the anger irrelevant - somewhere where the dark, thick, ties that strangled him with rage, were looked over - not gone. He would push his body to the point of exhaustion and carry on through it.

He did just that.

Never in his life had he trained on emotion so raw - fuelled as it was by two of the biggest catalysts ever known to him -- anger and hate. Teachings of compassion were lost. They were submerged under emotion so thick that it asphyxiated every last strand of composure he could let surface. Never had Vegeta asked so much of his body. Never had he received so much in return, and never had he felt so frustrated that it wasn't more.

Early morning sun crept through the training room portals. Vegeta's ki energy had forsaken him hours ago, but such a trivial thing would not slow him now. When he could no longer gather ki he merely reverted to formwork, just as he had before the training room was finished. Then - when his lack of balance made formwork impossible, he still refused to quit. He walked around the room, circling the central support for lap after lap. The pace waned as the minutes ticked by, and dizziness added frustration to exhaustion as he slowed.

Half an hour later he stumbled. He fell to the floor but defiantly picked himself back up. Three times more he did this, and when he could no longer walk he just stood. Finally, even staying upright was a challenge, and with the room swaying around him, he fell.

He did not get up again that morning.

When Vegeta's body recovered enough to allow consciousness once again, he could only take a guess at how long he had been passed out. The shifting of light from one side of his training room to the other, suggested that it was afternoon.

It was true that Saiyajins didn't require as much sleep as the creatures of Earth did, but in such an instant, it must not be classed in the same league. Saiyajin physiology was unparalleled in the known universe. Their unique eating and sleeping patterns were the key. One automatically relied on the other, and even though Vegeta was probably out for no more than six hours, he would be fine so long as he could drag his sore body to the kitchen and find something to eat. Only if he were unable to do this would he really be in the shit.

Several stuttered attempts to stand ended in failure, but that didn't stop Vegeta. He might fall, but he would pick himself up every time and continue until he got what he wanted. At last his legs regained strength enough to support his body.

As though he were the fittest in his life, Vegeta pushed his chest out, ignoring the crunch that underlined it, crossed his arms, and made his way to the main house.

How did he feel? 'Numb' would probably be the best description. Oh, the anger was still there somewhere, but it was so dark and deathly that it made emotion useless. Unlike the training, Vegeta had experienced this before. Just never had it been so hard to attain. This was what he had been training for, the point beyond anger. While the anger dominated him he was emotional and weak - a useless puppet - easy to manipulate, but now, oh now it was different. Now he could think through the anger, think in a detached but calculating way. When he was this way it was as though the part of the brain left for consciousness was floating above his body, giving him an unparalleled view from the outside in.

Aloof, indifferent, but similarly sharp and decisive - this was when he was his most efficient.

He didn't have to wait for food. As soon as he stepped foot in the kitchen, the blonde woman was before him, ready to pander to his hunger as though she had been waiting all day. Her chatter was incessant as she piled plate after plate before him, but it was not of the tune to require response. It was mindless, trivial banter, and being as it was, below his notice, he ate with selfish abandon. There were only two things he thought on as he ate. Kakarrot and Bulma. The confrontation with both was eagerly anticipated. Bulma would naturally be first, but he would not seek her out. He knew, that one way or another, their paths would cross this day - probably his last full day on Earth.

She was awake and somewhere in the complex, he knew as much the moment he first walked through the door. She would find him and she would want answers and he was in no mind to refuse her.

It took longer to eat than anticipated. He didn't enjoy the food. He ate as a necessity, and as a means for survival, nothing else. The meat, with its lovingly spiced marinade, tasted toxic as he swallowed. The hot sweet beverage was like acid, scorching his throat on the way down, but both were essential and he endured them. By the time he had finished, both the mother and her continuous chatter were gone, replaced instead by the daughter. He had not seen her enter, engrossed as he was in forcing food into his recovering body, but he had felt the moment as though there were two galaxies colliding in his mind.

The silence was palpable, but fitting. Confrontation was upon him and he would relish it.

Wiping a napkin across his face, he first met her gaze. Yes, she was staring - and yes, she would not speak. Her face held more colour than it had the previous night, but only just. She looked as exhausted as he felt. Were all humans this incapable of hiding emotion? Her blue eyes glistened in the shadows as they searched him for answers.

"You want to know what happened last night?" he asked, throwing down his napkin, and resting back on the chair.

"Yes."

"No doubt," he replied. "And I am more than willing to tell you, but you have to humour my curiosity first." He crossed his arms. "I have no desire to drag this out. Tell me what you know for fact so I don't have to speak of what we both already know."

She moved now and lifting a chair, swivelled it to sit opposite Vegeta - her arms braced on the table as a means of support.

"I remember speaking to Dende, and then waking up to see you." Her cheeks flushed. "I remember you offering me something that I didn't want to believe I wanted, but which I couldn't refuse either." She smiled, touching two fingers to her lips. "I remember your lips on mine - the hunger and desire I felt in them, and the desperation and despair I felt from you. You told me to 'take it,' demanded that I give myself up to you, and I did. When you pushed me up against the cupboards, it felt right that your hands were all over me - it felt good. You ripped my top and I didn't even care." The smile disappeared. "Then - then something changed and I still don't understand what. I went from perfect understanding to confusion all in a nanosecond. It was a weird sensation, as though the heat was being sucked from my body, and then -- then I remembered."

Her eyes fluttered insecurely to Vegeta, as though she were looking for the strength to continue.

"You remembered that you were already spoken for. You thought of your human lover. The one in the video." He frowned. "Do not be afraid to speak of him. I am beginning to understand how your weak sensibilities work."

"I did," she admitted. "I thought I could hear him. Not in the room, but in my thoughts. It was as though he were sitting behind me. He was professing his love to me. Oh god! I'm so sorry Vegeta. I never… that is… I thought I knew what was happening. I thought I was helping you, giving you the compassion I wanted you to feel and understand. I wanted to give you the chance to think beyond strength, but I was wrong. It didn't matter though, I suddenly felt weak - sick to my stomach and dizzy. I presume I passed out?"

"You did."

She hung her head, her features shrouded under a veil of aquamarine hair. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…."

"Don't be," he snapped, sickened to hear her sound so weak when she was not. Repulsed to see how effective the human had been in humbling her fire. "You will not utter those words in my hearing."

The silence was back, but it was not awkward. Rather, it gave Vegeta the opportunity to collect his thoughts. He would not hide what he knew. She would understand completely, because it was not right for her to be ignorant. Either way it would not affect him, but she deserved to know it all.

"And that is all you know - that is all you can remember?"

"Yes."

"Then you are ignorant and I will tell you what you need to know." He uncrossed his arms and stood. "We were not alone last night."

"What do you mean?"

"You said you thought you heard your lover's voice."

"I thought I did. I must have been tired, emotional or hal…."

"No," he interrupted. "You were not deceived. The human was here."

"Don't be ridiculous, Vegeta. Yamcha is dead. He won't be revived until tomorrow."

"And have you ever died?" he asked.

"No."

"Then don't discount the power Other World holds," he snapped. "Death is not the end. There is life beyond it, or at least a realm beyond the physical. You must at least know that much."

"Yes. Both Son-kun and Piccolo have told me of it. Before you came to Earth, Goku died fighting Raditz. His soul was noble and good. He sacrificed his life for the planet and those he loved. He was allowed to keep his body and he trained under the North Kai. Piccolo says that Yamcha is doing the same."

"That is true. He spoke to you the day Namek was destroyed, didn't he? Through the Kai he told you Frieza was defeated and Kakarrot was dead."

"He did." Tears were now pooling in her eyes.

"I did not feel his life-energy then, but I felt the Kai's, just as though he were in this reality and not the next. Last night I felt something similar. It was not the Kai's energy though. It was weaker, less decisive, and definitely human. It was similar to the day Namek exploded, in so much that it was only your acknowledgment of the phenomenon that made me take notice. By then it was too late. He had already possessed you. I do not know how he managed this, nor do I care, but he was there, and he was manipulating you. That is why you passed out."

Under this information Bulma stood. The fire was back. Her eyes were alight with it as she rearranged her chair and then paced backwards and forwards on the kitchen tiles, almost as though she were venting her conflicting emotions through movement, just as he had through training. It was intriguingly similar.

"Why?" she spat, not breaking pace. "Why would he do that?"

"I would have thought that was obvious." Vegeta smirked, ready to pull strings. "He could see what was going on and he was jealous. He wanted to stop what was happening and so did the only thing he could. He took control of you. It worked, but he didn't count on me noticing. He would have kept you ignorant."

She stopped, those fierce and emotional eyes meeting his head on. "Why are you telling me this? What are you getting out of this?"

"Nothing," he admitted. "I will be gone tomorrow. After then, this will all be irrelevant to me."

"That's bullshit and you know it! Don't think I don't know how you get your kicks, Vegeta. You didn't need to tell me and yet the first thing you do is just that. How do I know that you haven't told me this just to fuck with my head before he comes back?"

He chuckled at the accusation. "You don't." Then he moved to stand in front of her, stopping her from escaping his gaze. "I have told you nothing but the truth. What you do with that information - whether you choose to believe I did it for any reason other than for my own amusement - is entirely up to you. It no longer concerns me and that is an end to it."

"Oh no it isn't!" she said, jabbing a finger into his chest. "You told me this for a reason and I will not let it go until you answer me."

"You are entitled to know your body was violated. That is why I told you. Yes, there is something in the situation that I find amusing, but it has no more bearing on my actions than as a diversion from frustration and regret."

"Regret?"

Vegeta mentally winced. How did she always do this? Find the weakness in his words so easily. She had effortlessly picked up on the one word he hoped would go unnoticed.

"Yes," he admitted. "I regret what happened last night."

She considered this for a moment. "Why?" she asked. "Do you regret that you tried to seduce me? Or do you regret that it didn't work."

There he was, stuck between a rock and a hard place. Cornered he could only do one thing. Tell her the truth. No matter the outcome, he wasn't going to deny her the answers she craved. He wouldn't flatter her emotions by admitting that he had planned on seducing her, because he hadn't. The opportunity had presented itself and he had taken it, but he was likewise glad that it had been halted, because it would have made leaving either the planet or this reality, harder.

"Both."

Bulma was content with the answer. Her anger cleared under his admission. She smiled. "I regret it too."

Curiosity got the better of him. "In the same way?" he asked.

"Yes."

It was the answer he had hoped to hear. "Then we shall go on as we go on. Our destinies are both in the hands of others and we will each deal with the situation as it faces us."

Then, to Vegeta's shock, she nodded. She took a pace forward and her arms wound around his waist. He was incredulous for a moment and then he remembered the term. A hug - that was what the humans called it. Not an embrace as they had shared the previous night, but a purely platonic gesture, given to say the she understood and accepted his words.

He allowed the contact, but did not return it.

"I know you don't want to hear this, Vegeta," she sniffled. "But I am sorry that I didn't get to know you better than I did - and I'm sorry I wasn't able to help you reach your destiny."

The mention of his failings might have been more than he could take at that minute if he had not trained his thoughts into order that morning. As it was he was able to reply with a degree of composure that befitted the sentiment. "You're right. I don't want to hear it, but…." He relented a little and put one arm awkwardly around her. "For now, I will take it."

Vegeta could not say how long they remained in the unfamiliar position, but he could at least say he found some comfort in it. He wondered what other tricks these weak but sly creatures had up their sleeves, and he was, for the first time, sorry he would not be able to find out.

"We are friends aren't we?" she asked, when he stepped away.

"I cannot say. You are still the only one in the room that fully understands that concept."

She smiled at that. "Then I say we are, and you're just going to have to accept as much."

He shrugged his shoulders, unsure how to escape more of her emotion. She probably sensed his growing unease, and so abruptly changed the subject.

"So what are your plans for today? Let me guess. There'll be training, followed by training and then topped off with even more training? Am I right?" she asked with a wink.

He smirked. "You couldn't be more wrong. I will do nothing today other than eat and rest. I was training all night, and it only succeeded in crippling me. I want to face Kakarrot at my best. I will not be at my best with a tired body and an empty stomach."

Her edginess on the subject was apparent to Vegeta. She busied herself with some menial task that didn't need doing, fussing over the cut roses in the jar on the table.

"So you are still not reconciled to my fight with Kakarrot?"

"No."

This would be interesting for him to explore and seeing as he had nothing else to do, Vegeta would explore it. He wondered if everything they had gone through before was really all she was feeling, or if there was something deeper. He suddenly had a very selfish wish to know more. With no principles to forgo, he attacked his curiosity head on.

"Tell me, Bulma. What will you do tomorrow when I defeat Kakarrot?"

Her eyes flew to his, and then winced in pain. One of the thorns had cut her finger. "Don't you mean 'if'?" she chided, before sucking on the finger to reduce the sting.

The simple action effected Vegeta more than he would have liked, but he did not lose his proud glare. "If a warrior doubts his capabilities then what is the use of fighting? Now answer the question."

"Fine," she snapped. "If you defeat Goku I will simply wish him back again. Even if it means travelling to find the Nameks and using the dragonballs on their new home world, then I will do it."

"You seem mighty confident that you will have the means necessary to do this. What if I were to destroy this planet once my victory is confirmed?"

She frowned at this. Vegeta knew he was pushing the line, but what did he care anymore? It was fun.

"Then I would start from scratch. Wherever I will be when you destroy my home, I will find a way to wish Goku, my planet and my people back."

He nodded. "Very well, and what if you were to still be on this planet when it meets its demise at my hands?"

"Oh," she said, confidently flicking blue hair behind her ears. "I don't think that will happen."

"Really… and what makes you so sure?"

"Because you promised not to kill me… remember?"

He did. Bad move. He had told her it was his present. Her life. The tricky little minx had a way out of everything didn't she? He laughed out loud. Bulma Briefs was indeed by far the most cunning and unparalleled creature he had ever come across. As effortlessly as that she had won, even when his mind was at its clearest. Good grief!

"What's so funny?" she demanded, hands firmly rooted to her hips.

He couldn't let her know. He couldn't tell her how easily she had won. That would leave him open, vulnerable. He could not take back his words, because that would mean sacrificing both his honour and integrity. He only had one defence left. Deflection.

"I was laughing because I find it amusing how much trust you openly put on the word of a mass-murderer. Now if you'll excuse me. I have a battle to plan for."

And without so much as a goodbye, he left the room. If it were to be the last time he saw her alone, then it was fitting for it to end that way. She would never know how easily she could defeat him, and that was just the way he wanted it. No one would ever know there was another dimension to the Saiyan no Ouji, and his pride would feel all the better for the universe's ignorance.

***********************************************

A/N - I can't believe how much fun this chapter was to write. I hope you all like it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Someone asked in a review why I called the last chapter 'The paranormal Gooseberry?' I am assuming that it was the gooseberry part that confused you. I'm not sure if it's a Britishism or not, but here goes for the explanation. A gooseberry used in this context, for me, is a term for an unwanted third-party. For example: If you went on a date with your boy/girlfriend and a friend showed up, then he/she would be considered a 'gooseberry', because they would be getting in the way of more romantic moments. I hope that clears things up.