Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Finding Peace ❯ Twenty Percent ( Chapter 37 )

~~~~~~~~~~`` Chapter 36- Twenty Percent.

Now it has occurred and I can't escape

From these memories that run so deep

Prevented of everything devoid of sleep

And my attempt at deletion remains incomplete-- Keepsake

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Bu lma stared at the empty side of her bed; the moonlight and chilly air came through the open balcony doors flowing in the room. She sighed for the hundredth time looking at the clock again. Two-thirty in the morning and he still hadn't come out yet. It's been twenty-six hours since he flew out of this room angered and upset. She wondered how long it would be till he stopped beating himself up. Didn't he know it was not his fault?

It was all hers. She should have tested the medicine before to see if it reacted badly to his body. But even if she did, she would never be able to tell just by blood samples. This was the test. And it hadn't passed. Now they would have to start anew but more then likely Vegeta would not approve.

Bulma understood how he was feeling. Vegeta was an emotional guy. She smiled and giggled to herself at that comment. Yeah, it was true. He was very emotional and moody but he only had two emotions and two moods both matching each other. The angry mood and the sex mood, everything else didn't matter. And when he can't feel any of each, it would more the likely tear him down. He needed one mood at least but to have both taken away was probably more frustrating then having the flashbacks.

Bulma lifted her head, hearing the GR shut down. It was about damn time. He would have to come in the house if he wanted to take a shower or slept considering she had shut off the water ten hours ago. And the bed had been taken out after they had their little escapade in it. She sat up, holding the blanket to her naked chest and stared at the balcony's open doors.

She heard the door open and close but after that it was nothing until with a frightened jump she heard the shower next-door turn on. The little bastard wasn't planning on coming to see her. Sometimes his pride was just as annoying as hers.

Bulma waited twenty minutes, the shower shut off, the bed banged against the wall gently. It was like the many nights she experienced twenty years ago when he still slept in his old room. He woke her up constantly in the middle of the night with his showering and then the bed. Especially when he had flashbacks it was the most annoying sound at four in the morning.

She remembered many a night she would get frustrated and stomp her way out of her room to bang on his door before opening it herself to see him sitting straight up, panting heavily with sweat covering his naked torso and face. She would yell at him to stop moving and he would yell at her to get the fuck out and that was that.

Grabbing her robe, Bulma went out of the room and gently knocked on the door before opening it up and leaning against the doorway. Vegeta sat on the bed, his feet resting against the carpet ground with his head in his hands. "Go away, Onna." He whispered too tired to deal with her shit at the moment.

Bulma's face twisted in worry at the sight of his boxer-clad body with clean cuts and welts all over him. "We need to talk about this, Vegeta."

Growling he lifted his eyes to her, ignoring her frightened expression, "There is nothing to talk about." He put his head back into his hands so she wouldn't be able to see the large gash that went across his eye. But obviously it caught her scared sight. Vegeta heard her footsteps go straight to the bathroom. He made a mental note to clean out all of the bathrooms with the emergency kits she had bought.

Bulma set the box on the bed, quickly taking out special formulated alcohol that wouldn't destroy the Sayians healing cells, which she had come to find out happens with peroxide if mixed with Sayian blood. "Vegeta let me see."

"Leave me, Onna."

"Vegeta. Now."

Wanting to glare at her for her demand he lifted his face, however realizing too late that it had been a trap. She caught his chin in her hand and quickly placed the alcohol swipe upon his wound. He winced away though not pulling back knowing he shouldn't. Vegeta glared at her for her actions battling in his mind that she was overreacting. Wounds weren't meant to be tended. That was always his line when she babied him like this. It only hurt worse when they were treated. They were to be left neglected until they healed on its own. That's how it was for a Sayian. But the woman refused to buy that and only end up calling him a baby. "It's going to need stitches." She frowned.

"Please, woman." Vegeta rolled his eyes through finding that action to be painful. He had come a half a millimeter from losing his eye and it showed by the burned cornea. He couldn't see out of it but he'd be damned if he admitted that. The woman would surely make him go to the hospital.

"Oh, stop being such a baby. You know you should. Look at this." She gripped his hand and moved his sulking form to the mirror above the dresser, turning on the light. Vegeta mentally cringed at the sight of his eye. The inch wide gash stared back at him sickeningly. Bulma smiled at him over his shoulder, "You know, you wearing an eye patch kind of sounds sexy."

Vegeta smirked but quickly realizing what exactly she was trying to do made his blood boil. He glared at her in the mirror and she swiftly noticed the slitting of his eyes. He growled turning away from her and going back to the bed, "Leave, Onna." He rested upon his stomach, plopping his head down on the pillow, his bad eye toward the ceiling.

Bulma sighed, holding her forehead in her hand. She went to take a seat next to him, "Do you feel better?"

"It has worn off if that is what you mean."

"So you do feel better."

"I didn't say that."

"What's wrong, Vegeta?" She laid her head down on his naked shoulder blade, soothing her hands over his back only to stop as soon as she felt the welts that lie there. "Please tell me." She could feel his heart beneath her ear, relaxing her tired body but worrying her for his heart was beating much to fast to be calm.

"They're worse."

She had heard the deepness of his voice through his back, vibrating against her cheek, but the whisper had made her eyes snap open. Bulma lifted her head to gaze down at him, "What?"

"They play constantly in my head."

"Even now?"

"Even now."

"What kind?"

"All kinds."

"Oh, Kami, baby." Bulma rested her forehead down on his shoulder blade shaking her head against him, tears swelling up in her eyes thinking how much torture he must be in at the moment. "I don't know what I'm going to do with you."

A chuckle bounced her, "Same here." Bulma smiled and kissed his skin, feeling it flex beneath her lips. Vegeta slowly turned onto his back, his eyes closed, resting against his pillow, his hand stroking on his mate's thigh, the other tucked behind his head.

"Besides the side effect, did it work?" Vegeta peaked open his good eye staring at her gentle features, her blue hair draped down her face however the other side tucked tight behind her ear. Closing his eye, he nodded. "Maybe we can try again--"

Vegeta's eyes instantly snapped open, "Never." He growled.

"Vegeta that's how it works. Trail and error. Until we make it where you no longer have these flashbacks."

"No, Bulma. I will not." He rose from the bed to go to his balcony standing tall in the cold outside.

Standing up angrily, "So what, you're just going to let them eat at your brain alive? I won't allow it, Vegeta."

Vegeta growled, turning back inside the room to glare at her, "This is all your fault. If you would have just let it alone I would not have these running constantly in my head."

"I'm so sorry I tried to help. But for a while, you started feeling better and I will not be sorry for that."

"Better? I am not allowed to feel better, woman. That is what the gods have given me for what I have done and I will live with it."

"Would you stop with the fucking guilt trip, Vegeta? I'm so sick of it. Damn! The whole world has forgiven you ten times over, just forget about it and move on." Her sentence she regretted when finding the outrage of his glowing eyes.

"I can't forget! Do not tell me to do something when you know nothing! Forgetting is out of my capability!"

Her anger was swift and bitter. "If you get help, Vegeta, the help you need. You can forget, that is why you are going to these people and that is why you are taking the medication. So you can feel better about things that you can't forget. And maybe it's not even that you can't forget, Vegeta, maybe it's that you don't want to. And you don't want to feel better. You want to be miserable for the fucking rest of your life. Well, then fine. If you don't want medication and you don't want people who can help then suffer. But if that is your choice then suffer alone because I have a life I would like to live and children who have the power to make everything that's wrong so much worth living." Bulma slammed the door on her departure.

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Vegeta sat on the rail of the kitchen balcony, gazing at the rising sun. Sleep had not come to him for two nights in a row but that was not what had gotten him in this mute state. The words of his mate stung. They had actually caused him to ponder the way he views his life and it nerved him to no end. Since he had first met her, she had this ability to make him question things that he had never once before. It made him feel weak, like he wasn't as confident in his life goals as he originally thought. And along with feeling weak, it made him lost. He hadn't felt that way for a long time. Eight years actually.

It wasn't as though he didn't want to feel better like she perceived, it was that he thought he didn't deserve too. The life that he has now with a mate and two children he would die for, it all made him seem unworthy. He had destroyed people like him and his family. What had given him that right? Just because he was powerful? Just because he was strong gave him the right to kill races that were just like his? That was the thing that ate at him the most. If he hadn't gotten to know the human race maybe he would still not give a damn about other lives. But he had, and lived with them for the past twenty years. Vegeta compared the two races though he had very little to go upon for the Sayian race but either way, they were both similar. He took it to heart when his race was blown to pieces. And maybe some of those other races were exactly like his. So in a sense, he was exactly like Frieza.

Vegeta shook his head. He was getting off topic. Something he learned from the doctor people. Stay on the subject and don't go places that shouldn't be explored yet. Vegeta sighed and leaned his head back against the wall only to snap it up again at the sound of the sliding glass door opening. His son came out with two mugs filled with; from the smell of it hot chocolate. Household favorite obviously. The eyes that were once always shining and free from the darkness that always seemed to circle his own now wrapped itself around Trunks's. But the smile still present however fake. "Hey, Dad. Couldn't sleep either?" Trunks handed him the cup before taking a seat on the other side of the rail.

Vegeta gazed at the beautiful child, taking slow sips of the hot drink, before finally being able to take his orbs away to the rising sun. The heat was slowly beginning to seep into his skin. It was silent for a full half hour the sun almost fully shining just above the horizon, the sky cloudy though sparkled with promise of another sunny day. Something Vegeta was getting sick of.

Knowing he should be the one to break the silence, he took a deep breath of the winter air, keeping his eyes in contact with the sun. "I do not understand why you feel such ways. However, I do not think you weak because of it."

"Mom told you, huh?" Trunks brought his blue eyes to his father, watching with interest and admiration. He frowned mentally at the healing gash on Vegeta's eye though said nothing.

"She does not need to tell me, boy. You project many things to me, subconsciously."

"I don't understand."

"Ask your mother."

"Right." He dropped his head against the wall once again putting his eyes to the horizon.

It was an hour later before Trunks got tired of the morning sun and retreated inside, Vegeta watched him go. He knew he wasn't a good father. That was a fact he never hid from the world. He didn't understand the meaning of parenting, didn't know what not to say or do. And even over the years just talking with his kids was hard enough.

Vegeta could train them. Teach them the hard facts of life. But he knew human ways weren't exactly all verbal and physical abuse. After so long, yes he had gotten a bit less uncomfortable chatting with his son and watching cartoons with his daughter, but overall he never did anything fun with them like Kakarot and his circus. He also knew Trunks didn't all together understand and the more he grew and matured the more resentment, even if it was unnoticeable by everyone but Vegeta, grew. But come years from now, when his son yells at him for being an awful father, at least he could honestly say that he had tried.