Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Fate's Coincidences ❯ Chapter 11

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

He was loosing! He was a Super Saiyan and yet he was losing.


Vegeta couldn’t believe it. The vile taste of being at a disadvantage soured his mouth viciously. He knew how strong King Cold was but he had never imagined it would end like this. With Cold spitting in his face. Was that all he was meant for? Loosing like a common breed? Vegeta hadn’t always been loosing. In fact he had been winning. Although it seemed that King Cold had been relatively strong Vegeta had clearly been the stronger of the two. And he had had the advantage. But somehow King Cold had become slightly deranged when Vegeta had started boasting about how he had beaten Frieza. And that had given King Cold a deadlier edge to his fighting.


In turn Vegeta had started to get more frustrated and his moves became sloppy. He couldn’t believe he was loosing his head. He was always cool when he fought. Whether it was the fact that he had not tested out his new power or that it had been a long while since he had been involved in a fierce battle he couldn’t tell! And now here he was. Here he was indeed.


The stands of the arena had long since been blasted into useless rubble and the fight had long since moved passed the debris that had once been a formidable arena. Now people crowded the pair – the Super Saiyan Prince and the King of the Ice-jins – to get a closer look at the fierce battle that raged on before them. Now and then though, one or two of the spectators had to duck their head’s from stray blasts to avoid being decapitated. Now there were bets being placed on who was going to win.


Not surprising as many of those who had come to support Cold had changed allegiance once they had seen the Saiyan Prince in action. An arrogant smirk had been sewn onto his lips when he had transformed, shocking into utter silence, not just the hundreds of spectators but Cold himself. Momentarily that was, until Cold had re-gathered his air of nonchalance. But Vegeta had not wanted to waste any time on the pre battle warm ups or with meaningless talk. He just wanted a fight. And that’s what he had gotten. A bloody good fight. And so here he was. Blood dripping from torn skin that covered almost every inch of his body, his bones creaking in protest that some were broken and his lungs burning for much needed air. He was lying hopelessly on the ground with Cold’s three toed foot pressed into his broken armor while the Lizard hovered over him with his burly arms crossed over the broad expanse of his chest. And with a tight grinding of Cold’s feet Vegeta’s chest plate was shattered off his body. A groan of pain escaped his lips at the contact of Cold's foot on his burnt and bruised skin and he cursed fluently to make Cold heave a loud laugh. But the laugh soon turned into a cough induced spitting of blood. Vegeta gave a small conciliatory smirk for at least King Cold wasn’t as strong as he had been over an hour ago. The Saiyan Prince had made sure of that! Cold may be the one standing tall over the Saiyan who needed to catch his breath but he was just as bloodied and bruised as his opponent.


The small loss of concentration as Cold stopped the racking coughs from escaping his chest could have been Vegeta’s chance to get out from the miserable position he found himself in, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. What would be the point? He had already died once and he did not fear the prospect of death anymore. At least this time he would be with the rest of his kind, not wished back as a mistake before he even made it to his final destination. Even if it were burning in the bowls of hell – it was surely much better than the degradation of lying helplessly beneath the feet of an Ice-jin. If he couldn’t defeat King Cold while he was a Super Saiyan, what more could he do? And in that moment he didn’t much feel like fighting for Universal domination. All the power, control and credits in the world just didn’t seem tempting enough for him to get off his ass.


Somewhere deep within his last vestiges of pride, sanity and common sense he knew that it was the chilly atmosphere of the Planet Saivic that was making his situation out to be worse than it really was. It was allowing him to give up. But there were something’s even the haughty Saiyan Prince didn’t want to fight against.


“Giving up so easily monkey?” King Cold taunted as Vegeta’s eyes closed shut momentarily to review his options. His mind was unusually blank! He couldn’t think of a single plan to bring himself out of this mess and maybe it was because he really didn’t want to. And then he heard it.


“Vegeta?” It was a soft question from the lips of that blasted woman and it lingered in the air like a soothing balm on his ugly wounds. It was as if she were asking him why the fuck he was on the ground. And by the God’s he didn’t know! And why the fuck was her annoyingly sweet voice in his head anyway? ‘Stupid woman.’ Vegeta mentally cursed her for coming to him in such a time of shame and weakness.


“Vegeta!” Only this time it wasn’t a question and neither was it annoyingly sweet. This time it was a loud shriek that had Vegeta’s eyes popping open and his ears stinging. And there she was. Bulma! Standing at the edge of the crowd with her hands on her face. Her eyes were huge and her face was pale. She definitely looked like she had pushed her way through a crowd and now she seemed not to know whether she wanted to come to him or run back to the ship. He cursed silently. ‘Why the hell hadn’t she listened to me?’


Vegeta saw the way King Cold looked slightly surprised at the sudden appearance of a woman shouting out his name and a tremor of fear passed through Vegeta. Then at that moment Bulma ran towards him. It all happened so fast that even Vegeta’s super senses had to take a moment to register what had happened. One moment she was standing at the edge of the crowd, who she had silenced with her calling of his name, and the next she was at his side her hands pushing at Cold’s ankle. Whether it was sheer surprise that this woman would be so bold – or stupid, that’s what Vegeta thought of her actions – or that Cold was just thrown for six by the lack of fear Bulma showed Vegeta couldn’t really tell, but Cold slowly removed his leg from Vegeta’s chest while his red gaze studied the scene before him. And then she was helping the Saiyan, who was trying to shake her hands off of him – to no avail – to sit up.


“What do we have here?” King Cold mused and Vegeta, with what seemed like immense effort, stood up again pushing Bulma roughly behind him. ‘Wrong move!’ Vegeta chastised as he inwardly cursed himself and Bulma. He may not have acknowledged her clucking like a mother hen or moved her gently away from him but the irregularity of his actions was enough to ignite a small glint in Cold’s burning red gaze making it stand out against the white of his eyes.


But he was too slow to turn around as Bulma’s loud scream reached his ears before his hands found her body. She was pulled away by one of Cold’s oafs and held with her hands behind her back. She screamed, kicked and wriggled but it was of no use. The giant was much larger and stronger than she was. A growl of fierce protectiveness erupted of its own volition from Vegeta but before he could even rationalize the situation an elbow to his back brought him to his knees. From behind, Cold pulled viciously at his mane of hair and Vegeta’s eyes widened in pain while his mouth screamed soundlessly.  And all the while he could feel Bulma looking at him with her dewy blue eyes that were literally begging him to save her. How? He wanted to shout out the question to pitch black sky but the word couldn't get past his bent throat. And nothing came to him. Not a single damn thing.


“I didn’t know you took whores Vegeta.” King Cold broke the intermit silence. “But I can see why. Such a fine creature. Don’t you think she is quite lovely Chill?” Cold asked the giant Ice-jin that held Bulma captive.


Chill gave an enthusiastic nod of his head and instantly groped one of Bulma’s breasts. The ear splitting scream of disgust and outrage was enough to make even Cold grimace and Vegeta wanted to lash out so badly. His tail was trashing around like a snake ready to strike and the gesture didn’t escape Cold’s notice.


“Ah, not so pretty when she opens that mouth of hers is she? Shut her up, would you Chill.” And the big Ice-jin turned Bulma around so a large palm could land on her face with a resounding crack. Vegeta watched as if in slow motion as Bulma’s head swiveled forcefully to the side before she fell awkwardly to the ground. His instant reaction was to go to her and his body must have betrayed him with the slightest of twitches because he didn’t feel it but Cold had seen it.


“Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast monkey.” Cold muttered as his large leg slammed into Vegeta’s back and he fell flat on his face making him eat dirt. Vegeta lifted his head slightly and spat the combination of dirt and blood from his mouth as he watched Bulma being hauled to her feet again. She was still alive but he could see the fear mingled with anger burn in her eyes, together with a large red bruise that had split her cheek. Blood oozed from the side of her face as if mocking Vegeta over his lack of control of the situation. And then she turned to look at him with blatant accusation in those shining blue depths.


“I find your behavior very odd.” King Cold whispered in Vegeta’s ear as he crouched down and lifted Vegeta’s head by his black spikes so his lips and the Saiyan’s ear could meet. Cold's breath was icy cold and annoyingly cooing that Vegeta's ears twitched at the horrid sound as if it too wanted to smash Cold's head to a mushy pulp. “If I didn’t know any better I would think you cared for the girl.” Cold said mockingly, unaware of the hated thoughts flowing through Vegeta's mind, but Vegeta heard the disbelief and triumph from the Ice-jins mouth. And when Vegeta didn’t offer any protests to the contrary King Cold vaulted up again, lifting Vegeta from the ground by the Saiyan's hair before his hideous, scaly tail wrapped around the Saiyan Prince’s neck, leaving his hands free to cross over his bulky chest as if bored with the situation. Vegeta felt the slow burn of anger start to light its way through him and he wanted nothing more than to blast a whole straight through Cold’s face but the situation was impossible. Cold could, in his current position, easily dodge an oncoming attack from Vegeta.


“Lets see Vegeta, how would you feel if I let you go right now?” There was a shocked murmuring from the crowd and even Bulma looked up startled at King Cold’s bewildering statement. “Yes, I mean you are in no state to fight me and I am obviously stronger than you are so I’m being quite reasonable here. I have embarrassed you enough and I think my son is certainly smiling over that fact right now.” He said as if he were just now thinking about what he was saying and the Saiyan Prince had a good hunch that he really was making it along as he went. Anything to drag out the misery of Vegeta’s humiliation. However Vegeta knew the bastard was lying through his teeth and the anger surfacing in his body started to bubble outrageously.


“How about you kill the woman before you - and I let you go? You could really do with a stint in the regeneration tank.” Cold drawled out annoyingly.


“Go to hell.” Vegeta muttered, without pausing to consider his options, and Cold’s tail rammed Vegeta into the solid ground before lazily lifting him up again. He would be surprised if he could walk again, Vegeta mused in consequently.


“Well then, Chill would be only too happy to relieve you of your paramour Vegeta. After all woman can be so tedious at times.” Cold intoned in a long suffering sigh. And before Bulma could even take in another breath she was held up again in slimy hands.


Only this time she felt the razor sharp blade of a dagger pressed into the thin skin of her neck. Bulma lifted her head up, trying to avoid the sharpness of the blade, as she closed her eyes. The cool metal against her body left her scared to even breathe. How the hell did she always end up in these kinds of situations? In hindsight she should have listened to Vegeta and just stayed in the damn ship, after all it didn’t look like anyone would have bothered her there. But knowing herself as well as she did, she knew she would have never lasted long in the relative safety of being out of sight. She just had to wander about in search of Vegeta. And in truth she felt as if she had stumbled upon him at just the right time. She would have never forgiven herself if she had not been there for Vegeta if he died here without her. Ok, so she couldn’t really help him and by the looks of it had placed him in an even trickier situation – if that were possible – but she couldn’t change who she was. She took some small reprieve in seeing that Vegeta was still a Super Saiyan but obviously very much weakened.


He looked like a lone candle on a windy night that would be blown out at any moment and the thought made Bulma shudder in apprehension.


“Go ahead Chill, I know how you like to spill fresh blood.” Cold waved a large hand dismissively as if he were talking about swatting a tenacious mosquito away and Bulma felt her pulse rate skyrocket in fear!


Vegeta watched helplessly as the shiny blade, pressed so harshly against Bulma’s fair skin, drew pinpricks of blood from her neck and the rage that encompassed him made his power levels soar. But rationality stepped in at that very moment. He would have probably only just quickened Bulma’s death had he acted in a fit of rage. However Cold seemed ready to take full advantage of the situation.


“If you don’t want her to die Vegeta then why don’t we do a little trade, hmmm? Your life for hers? Simply stop resisting the inevitable, apologize for your disrespect towards Frieza and then face death like a true warrior. And I shall let the woman go. After all, she has no part in this.”


Again, lies. Vegeta knew, but Cold was right. Bulma didn’t have any part in this. She was completely innocent and didn’t deserve to die because of him. Could he do it? Ask Cold to let her go first, ensure she was safely ensconced in a moving ship before he gave in to Cold? No. it would never work. Neither Cold nor he trusted each other to make the first move. And he was being utterly foolish. He could not let this woman be his weakness. Not now, not ever. And she would certainly not be the death of him here. And even if by some miracle he managed to defeat Cold and ensure Bulma’s safety the people here today would never honor his victory. Because he had an Achilles heel – a mere woman that could be so easily targeted. They would bear witness to a weak man's downfall. There was no point, it was time to cut the cord on this thing that had developed between them both and here was the ideal opportunity. He would leave her to her own devices. Besides, Kakarot and the other Earthlings would no doubt wish her back to life if she was killed. So it was not like it mattered really. He would just stand back and let her die. Right?


“Kill her.” The words sounded as if he had never spoken them but the look that Bulma shot him told him that he had.


“Vegeta! Vegeta you don’t mean that, you can’t mean that!” She wailed, helplessly struggling to move from Chill’s beefy hands. Her eyes were accusatory with betrayal and Vegeta looked away.


“She means nothing to me Cold so don’t waste your breath. She is nothing but a common whore.” Vegeta looked directly at Cold, his dark gaze clashing furiously with red beans of hatred. A cold, seemingly triumphant smirk flashing from the lips that had spoken such deep betrayal of the only person in the Universe that had cared about him.


“No, no, no!” It was all Bulma could say after the words that had left Vegeta’s mouth seemed to cut right through her worse than the dagger Chill held against her flesh. She wanted so much to be in a bad dream right now but she knew that the reality of the situation was too palpable for her to believe otherwise. She also knew that even in her dreams the manifestation of Vegeta’s betrayal would have left her truly shaken. She was going to die. And not by the hands of a strange monster but by the hands of the man she wanted so badly. A man she truly cared about! And even though Bulma should have been fighting death with every claw she possessed she felt oddly numb over the entire situation. It was certainly as if Vegeta’s words had killed her first. They were definitely as sharp – if not sharper – than the knife placed so intimately against her neck.


And then it happened – in a flash of blinding light, loud screams and frustrated grunts. It came like the passing showers on a hot summer’s night. Fast, loud, and then it was over.


Turles appeared before Chill who turned to look at the new threat but was saved any harm when Cold saw the movement and sent a furious blast straight towards Turles’ head. However that was the split second that Vegeta and Ren needed to take control of the situation.


Ren appeared on the other side of a distracted Chill, bending the arm that held the dagger away from Bulma’s neck in a crushing motion that broke the bones there. She pulled the blade from his hand and with supreme efficiency she managed to stick it swiftly in the neck of Chill. The Ice-jins face read disbelief, his eyes wide with shock, one hand bent at an awkward angle as he slowly fell forward – death claiming him. Ren immediately moved towards a startled Bulma and picked her up with muscular arms as Chill fell heavily to the ground. Falling on the exact spot where Bulma had lain mere seconds before. There was a large thud, echoed with a puff of dust and Bulma could only close her eyes to steady her swirling thoughts. Ren flew off a few meters away from the scene below.


While Cold was focused on blasting Turles’ head off Vegeta used some energy to directly land on Cold’s tail, slicing it off the Lizards body neatly, thereby freeing himself from the strangle hold. He then pulled the proverbial mat from under Cold’s legs as he kicked the Ice-jin behind the knees so that Cold’s large stature flailed inelegantly until he landed on the ground - face first. Vegeta then let the anger he had been keeping a lid on boil over. His energy crackled around him like a flaming firework as he proceeded to decimate Cold with a flourish of kicks and blows. His anger at having had to witness Bulma in danger not abating at her safety now. His anger at having been put in the situation of choosing between a woman he now actually – unbelievably, insanely, inexplicably – cared about drove him to a relentless assault on King Cold. He didn’t want to kill Cold, he wanted so much more now. He wanted Cold to suffer.


Vegeta wanted to beat Cold to within an inch of his life while he held back from killing the Ice-jin. He wanted to watch the blood splatter from Cold as he ripped of his flesh in tiny pieces. And all his thoughts only fueled the raging inferno of anger within him, in turn lighting the spark of power that a Super Saiyan held to raging heights.


Cold tried his hardest to dodge the Super Saiyans furious blows but it was just of no use! He was too quick, too clinical, too there! And so he lost his upper hand, literally, when it was ripped from his shoulders. Cold couldn't save his limb for he was too busy trying to save his life. The loud roar that would have put even Earth's lions to shame was enough to enchant the Prince of all Saiyans into a realm of maniacal characteristics that he would not emerge out from until he was declared winner. Purple blood squirted and flooded the ground around Vegeta as Cold’s other arm was ripped off, followed by both his legs and both his large horns. King Cold writhed on the ground like a threatened snake and all the while he knew it was hopeless. Everyone watching knew it was hopeless. There was no escape now. But still Vegeta was not done yet. He gave a loud, maniacal, cruel laugh and with a ball of energy forming in the palm of one tattered gloved hand he blasted a whole straight thorough Cold’s chest.


Cold’s shoulder twitched as if he wanted to hold onto the recent wound but he was handicapped and that only made Vegeta laugh harder, louder until that was the only sound that filled the Planet.


“No hands, no legs … what else is there left for me to take from you Cold?” Vegeta mocked as he stepped menacingly, like the dark angel of death,   towards Cold who was still trying desperately to slither away from the insanity of his upcoming end. Lifting Cold’s body up into the air with a beam of energy straight through the Ice-jins chest Vegeta stood before him, levitating a little so that he could be face to face with the taller being.


“You’re right. It is unbelievable, but I do care for her.” He admitted softly for Cold’s ears only and the Lizard sputtered and gasped, wide eyed. “Say hello to Frieza for me, will you?” And with that a hand made into the equivalent of a blade beheaded the enemy of his today. As body and head separated Vegeta caught the head in his hand like nothing but a beach ball, before it would have inevitably joined the rest of Cold on the ground, and lifted it towards the remaining crowd that had not been too cowardly to flee or had been too enraptured by the fight to even move a muscle.


“All hail Lord Vegeta!” That started it. One sentence of praise from one being and everyone else subserviently followed like sheep. Vegeta stood there, bruised, bloodied and battered but he reveled in the feeling of finally reaching his destiny. It may have been a little late in the making, it may have been much different than he had ever expected, but it was there! He was finally there, were he should be. Lording over the Universe who would cater to his every whim with respect, fear and in-superiority!


“Let this be a lesson to anyone who wishes to challenge me in the future. My strength is far superior to any mortal alive today and I will not show any mercy to those who shall not bow before me.” He spoke like a true barbarian King before his people when the crowd had quieted. “And let it be known that I, Prince Vegeta of all Saiyans have no weaknesses. I stand alone in my strength!”


His eyes clashed, involuntarily, with blue fires and he felt it sour his prideful victory. There would be time for explanations later, right now he needed to get her away from this place. He nodded his head and flew off, instantly dismissing the crowd to disperse into readying the base for its new master. He flew over to were Bulma stood in-between Ren and Turles, the latter who looked a little worse for wear but still bowed respectively before him.


“We shall spend a night at this base to recover from our endeavors and then leave soon after.” Vegeta commanded and Ren and Turles nodded obediently.


“I want to go home.” He had not expected her to make such a claim and he had to hide his frustration and anger at her words. She didn’t look at him and with a glazed stare she seemed to find a point over his shoulder much more interesting. As if longing for the chance to leave him. That infuriated him all the more! This was the woman who had dared to look him straight in the eye, the woman who had refused to cower at his threats and strength, the very same one who had kissed him with such unadulterated passion and now she was afraid to even look at him.


“This is not the time. You need to rest.” His words weren’t harsh or hard but their was a cold, commandeering bite to it that had her head whipping towards him so her eyes met his furiously. It was better than her fear, he told himself! Her anger was much better than her fear.


“Rest?” she gaped disbelievingly at him. Who the hell was he kidding? Did he think that she would just say, ‘Hey Vegeta you chose for me to be killed instead of trying to rescue me but that’s ok, I forgive you.’ Or maybe he had thought that she would just ignore the fact that she was almost killed because he had said so. Or maybe he believed that because she was not dead but still alive that it changed everything that had just happened. And even if he did think all of that did he really think that she would ever get over that little speech he just made now? Hell, the only thing short of full conviction of his claim to stand alone was that he hadn’t sliced off her head before all those blood thirsty animals. And in all honesty, after the recent events, that was what she had been half expecting.


And how could she ever forget the maniacal gleam in his eyes, the feral way he had brutally ripped off someone’s every limb from their body without even flinching? And she had to hold back the bile rising from her throat from seeing the head of Cold lying so innocuously in his hands. What did he plan to do with it? Mount it as a souvenir? Her thoughts still made her bitter though and so were her words.


“Do you think I would need to rest had today not happened?” She shot back furiously as she felt the events of today catch up with her. A sense of hysteria mingled with the reproach of anger she felt was threatening to overwhelm her.


“If you had stayed in the ship like I ..”


“Like you what?" Bulma cut him off impatiently.  "Told me to? Why? So you didn’t have to choose between my death and your pride. So you didn’t have to rip the blinkers I’ve been wearing around you?” It was an unfair accusation because she knew exactly who he was and what he was capable of, had even witnessed it first hand before today, and he had never pretended to be otherwise. But she didn’t feel like being fair right then. She wanted to hold onto her self righteous anger because allowing herself to wallow in the dread that she meant nothing to Vegeta – that he had just said those very words along with giving someone the permission to kill her – was just not acceptable. She had to be strong.


“I am who I am.” He said unapologetically with a one shoulder shrug of casualness that made Bulma want to hit him over the head.


And then it bubbled from her chest to spurt from her mouth. A hysterical laughter that was accompanied by fat tear drops and chocked sobs. “Yes, you’re one sick bastard Prince Vegeta.” She mocked sarcastically poking a shaky finger at a part of his chest that didn't look too badly bruised. Bulma didn’t care about the way his mouth twitched in its set, hard line or the way his vein pulsated in his forehead. She didn’t care about the gaping expression of incredulity on Turles’ face or the shrewd assessment on Ren’s after her audible intake of a sharp, shocked breath. All she cared about was getting as far away from the murdering Prince before her as possible. But first she needed to do this.

This happened to be the smacking of Cold’s head from his hand so that it rolled on the ground as she launched herself at him and her fists pummeled at his rock hard chest. He didn’t stop her and her behavior raised curios eyebrows from their two spectators. But soon she was too exhausted to continue and she clung to the fronts of his torn body suit as she stared daggers at him with a burning anger and right now – hatred. She knew that when she calmed sufficiently she would have had to view everything that happened today again but she was not calm now and all she wanted was to be angry at his betrayal. He owed her that much at least. And then he raised a hand towards her, the same way he had raised his hand to decapitate Cold, and Bulma’s eyes widened in shocking disbelief.


Yes, there was no way he would let anyone witness her behavior towards the mighty Prince of all Saiyans. And in one fell swoop his hand connected with her fragile neck. And she knew before she felt it, before her eyes closed at last what she had truly meant to him. Nothing. Absolutely nothing!


Author’s Note: Did Vegeta really choose his pride over Bulma? Or was there more to her being saved than lucky intervention?
I however don’t think Bulma will take too kindly to secrets that she starts unraveling … not unless Vegeta can provide some very persuasive pleasure to change her outlook on things.


Until the next time, happy reading!


S …

Converting /tmp/phph9d5ax to /dev/stdout