Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Finding Peace ❯ Stinkfist ( Chapter 42 )

~~~~~``` Chapter 41-- Stinkfist

How can it mean anything to me
If I really don't feel anything at all?

I'll keep digging till,
I feel something.

Elbow deep inside the borderline.
Show me that you love me and that we belong together.
Shoulder deep within the borderline.
Relax. Turn around and take my hand.-- Tool

~~~```

It was so dark. Why had she thought to come? Bulma sighed heavily her eyes straying to the star-filled sky seeking answers and reassurance for her fears. Carefully and with her hands out before her, Bulma trekked her way through the bundle of trees, shrubs, and vines that would hopefully lead her to lake that laid in the center. She could hear the waterfall even now but that was always deceiving.

So she had decided to follow Vegeta. He had looked pretty hurt when he had left and if Bulma knew anyone better then herself it was he. The nerve of her son, when had he gotten so cruel and uncaring? Was he just now getting into the adolescent stage nearly all teenagers go through? She had thought and hoped he had skipped it but obviously she had been wrong.

Bulma tried to reason with herself tried to tell herself that Trunks was just scared, who wouldn't? He is brilliant, beautiful, could have any woman he wants, any job he wants, and now he will never be able to do it if he were to stay with the baby. She prayed he wouldn't abandon the infant. She prayed she had taught her child some character. If one can take care of the child, then do it. It would be a different story if Trunks was a normal kid with no money at all but he wasn't.

"Ouch." She whimpered when a vine caught her skin on her leg. Bulma stumbled over it, growling at it humanly. The crashing of the water now just a head and she nearly smiled when she saw it through the tree branches.

Vegeta had brought her to this spot, which was twenty miles off the coast of Japan. A secluded island he always came to be alone. She smiled to herself her last memory of this place. Two years ago and they ended up making love almost on every spot of grass, beach, and in the lake underneath the waterfall.

Her smiled slowly, however faded. She heard voices. No not voices, just one. Vegeta's. She couldn't make out what he was saying but as she got closer to the end of the jungle, she recognized it as Sayian-Di, his home language. Her eyes knit, a terrible dread suddenly plowed over her, nearly knocking her over. Something was wrong. Bulma peaked through the last of the brush, however staying put in her secret hiding place and watched her young prince from only a few feet. He sat upon a rock, a knee raised to his chest staring out at the water without a thought or care in the world. He looked beautiful at the moment with the moon shining down on him and it seemed only him, like a spotlight. He basked in its rays.

Though, he wasn't as peaceful as he seemed. A violent string of an alien language fell from his lips. The tone was harsh and cold, frightening to Bulma as she stared on. His head snapped to the sight of someone that wasn't even there and began to continuously chat away as if he was actually being listened to.

He was having a conversation with someone, which was obvious. But when Bulma looked around, there wasn't a single soul or body in sight. Tears sprung to her eyes at the meaning of this. She wanted to fix it, help him get out of his past but she was afraid.

Afraid? Afraid of what?! Bulma scowled herself. This was her husband she was talking about. There was no reason to be afraid of him, hell she wasn't even afraid of him when he was the most dangerous man alive! Was she losing her nerve in her old age? Old! Ha! Bulma Briefs wasn't old! And she certainly wasn't afraid of some Sayian Prince!

Bulma stepped out, holding her body straight trying to ignore and hide the shivers of worry that surrounded her. Her anxiety increased to the extreme, her hands constantly shaking but she gripped them hard into fists scorning herself for her weaknesses. She winced however when her foot stepped on a weak twig and it cracked beneath her quickly alerting Vegeta of a spy.

Bulma watched with frightened eyes as Vegeta's head snapped toward her, his eyes hard and blind, the blankness of the night only made him more dangerous looking. A few words fell from his lips before a chuckle past by them. He stood gracefully from his 'throne', an evil, malicious smirk spread on his mouth. It was an expression Bulma had never witnessed before. He couldn't see anything familiar in front of him. He didn't know who she was or where he was. Her mouth fell open only slightly as she whispered silently a small prayer to Kami to help Vegeta come to his senses.

A hand shot out to his side, his head snapping that way too as if blocking someone invisible from going to her. His Sayian words spat, 'No!' That one she knew. The rest of his sentence was lost to her but when his eyes flicked back to hers, the lust was apparent.

"Vegeta, please. Come to your senses."

It didn't snap him out of his memories in the least but his head cocked to the side, "Japanese you speak. I had thought Frieza had not purged that planet yet."

"Vegeta, listen to me--"-

A growl suddenly ripped through his throat, his smirk falling to a deep slit, "Do not dare talk to me in such a way, whore! I am a prince! And how is it that you know my name?"

"You are not on Frieza's ship, you're on Earth."

Vegeta raised his eyebrow, his voice switching to Sayian-di. He had a moment conversation with a shadow of the past before changing back to Japanese. "It is obvious you have been beaten too many times." He smirked. "And if that is the case, you have been used more times then I would like to know. I should let Radditz here have you." He turned his back carelessly.

Bulma took a step forward, "There is no Radditz, Vegeta. He's dead."

His black eyes snapped back to her, barring his white fangs, "Quiet, girl! You should know your place by now! Unless you are too stupid to remember it."

"Don't you know who I am? It's me Bulma."

"I care not for your name!" His strides brought him up close and personal to her, and she nearly scrambled back to get away but his hand tightly gripped her arm. She could feel it burning beneath his ki-raised hand. She bit her lip to keep from groaning in pain, "You speak when not spoken to. Your eyes stray to mine. You have obviously not been trained."

"Vegeta, look at me. Remember who I am. I am your mate." She only saw the widening of his eyes before her head was thrown to the side by the slap of a powerful hand that left her dizzy and startled. She didn't think of the pain that nearly broke her jaw, she didn't think of the blind rage she had seen reflect in his eyes, she could only think of how lost he was and how it was her job to find him. No matter if she were to die right here. His rough burning hand released her and she dropped to the floor.

He snarled, "Do not ever say such a disgraceful thing! I will never have a mate! Let alone a disgusting, weak human as yourself. Leave my presence before I upright kill you."

Bulma sniffed and wiped the tears from her cheeks, wincing in pain. She spit the blood from her mouth, tasting the coppery liquid against the inside of her cheek. Bulma lifted herself to her feet, struggling with the dizziness. She straightened her back, licking her bloody lips and staring in contact with him. He stood right before her only an inch away. Her tearing eyes gazing at him. Her shaking hand reached for the collar of her shirt, pulling it away to reveal a white crescent scar, "I wear your mark." She whispered, watching his eyes fall to her neck and his orbs instantly widen.

He stalled, afraid, confused, and unsure. The way it shaped, the symbol of royalty. And though his whole thought process told him to blast her, he couldn't stop his trembling hand, his finger dancing across mark unsure and slightly afraid. She winched at the heat of his fingers, burning her delicate flesh but she did not show it upon her features. Her own hand rose to his neck, touching the scar that she had made and his eyes closed on contact, her fingertips being burned by the heat of his skin.

It was then his shoulders lessened in their posture, and his ki fell to nothing, and smoldering heat of his flesh now just as cold as the night. And when his eyes reopened, Bulma saw the familiarity in them returned; a reflection of sadness took hold. "Bulma…" He whispered, his eyes tightly closing his hands embracing her face. "Oh, gods.." He struggled out; his eyes finding her tear filled ones. He kissed her cheeks, her nose, and her bloody lips.

"It's ok, it's ok." She assured holding his own face but he shook his head, resting his forehead against hers.

"I've…I…I hit you. I've never…I'd never…"

"I know. But it's ok. I understand."

"No…I'm…Oh, gods…Forgive me." He pleaded, falling to his knees. His hands gripped her hips, his head buried to her stomach.

Bulma chocked back a sob, her hands falling on his head lifting his gaze to meet hers. He looked like a lost child. His eyes innocent and scared. "There is nothing to forgive. It's ok Vegeta."

He shook his head, resting his forehead on her belly, "No. It's not." Bulma held his head tight to her, trying to hold back her tears. It frightened her he was this way. She wanted to yell at him, tell him to stand back up and not look so weak. Tell him he should never apologize for anything and just be the man she always saw him to be. Stubborn and headstrong. Not broken down and on his knees. But No words escaped her lips. Nothing could.

~~~~~````

His eyes strayed over to his woman, who sat with his son on the couch. His back was leaned against the wall in the darkest corner he could find in the office. He felt the weight of his guilt every time he glanced in her direction. It would never leave. He was a danger now. If he hadn't fully realized it when he had nearly killed Trunks, there was no denying it now.

It wasn't a flashback he had taken part in. No, for there were no human girls ever when he still purged planets for Frieza. Nor where there any females that were defiant and brave. They were all the same. Afraid and cowardly. Vegeta didn't know what had happened, actually. He could see her, and know her, and hear all the words she spoke, but it was like his present self had been locked away and drawn back to his old self. He had known Bulma was standing before him just as he knew Radditz wasn't there. But he hadn't been in charge of his actions.

Vegeta dropped his eyes from her when she moved to look up. Her burns were second degree and he could do nothing to heal them, only to ease the pain temporally, but he was afraid to even touch her. He could see the bruise upon her left side all ready begin to form. It will be a bad one but Bulma reassured him that she would be just fine and that she could hide it with the make-up crap humans put on.

He had never hit her before. Ever. There were times when he had to control himself to see past his flashbacks, but never did he even raise a hand to her. Vegeta couldn't speak to her, couldn't look at her when she begged him to. Couldn't touch her, not now. Not when he was a danger to her.

How had the problem come about? He had been flying to the island after the confrontation with his son. Thoughts of his father roamed in his head and suddenly he was flying across alien territory, killing everything that moved. Radditz and Nappa were beside him, laughing like usual, and then they landed to set up camp for something to eat. Radditz had begun to talk about old times on Vegeta-sei, Vegeta had listened intently but appeared to ignore every word that came out of his mouth. It was the only way he could learn of his home world by the stories the two old men told. And then a woman had come out. A beautiful woman at that. The two had stood, licking their lips until one stepped forward. Vegeta had denied him access before saying that the bitch was his.

He really hadn't planned on raping the woman; he never took whores that were off the streets of the planet Frieza owned. Vegeta had just wanted to frighten her. Hopefully she would run and neither Radditz nor Nappa would be able to defile her, as they had wanted.

"Vegeta." It was the doctor calling him. He hadn't said one word since they've entered and that was more then not fifteen minutes prior. He didn't want to talk today. He didn't want to talk about yesterday. He just wanted to go home. But his son sat on that couch. The person that got him in the situation he was right now. Trunks needed to understand.

He was nervous however. He didn't want the boy's pity. He didn't want to see the disgust in the boy's eyes. Maybe Trunks didn't have a right to know. Before, when the kid had actually been understanding, he had more entitlement to know then anyone. But was Trunks mature enough to know now?

"Since you don't want to talk about what happened last night, Vegeta, let's talk about the Cell. We haven't talked much of that." Vegeta's eyes flipped to the doctor who sat on his desk, which was the nearest seat to him. His family sat across the room staring at him, waiting patiently for him to begin. "You said Frieza put you in there for punishment. When was the first time you were put in it?" Niné watched his patient's expression writing down a note before glancing back up at him.

Vegeta concentrated and in effect memories were willingly let lose in his head. His eyes closed, his teeth grit and his fingers curled tightly around his arms. "Vegeta-sei's destruction." It was obvious it was a struggle for him to speak. "It was hours after Radditz told me. The three of us had been sent on a purge light years away from anywhere. It was while I slept that I saw it. Only to find out hours later it had been true. Radditz had told me it was a Meteor shower. But I knew different. I felt the screams of my people, as they were burned alive. I felt the cry of my planet when it blew apart. And I could feel the amount of betrayal they all felt when they witnessed Frieza release the ball of fire.

"Radditz changed after that. His whole kin had been taken and he had been close with them. He stopped caring and became, lack of a better word, numb. Nappa was indifferent. If anything he cared less for life. I knew the facts and I showed my vengeance blindly toward Frieza when the two were not around. I knew if I were to tell them then that Frieza had been apart of it, they would have gone straight to Frieza and would have been killed. They were the last of my race. It was my obligation to keep them protected from their own stupidity.

"Frieza knew I had seen it. The satisfaction in his eyes gleamed when I entered and he basked in my rage when he sympathized for our loss. I dismissed the two of them. Frieza and I were alone. And I attacked, with everything I had. Of course I was swatted aside like a fly. I was only eight years in human terms. Weak and stupid in the eyes of Frieza though more likely the third strongest in the universe. It was then Frieza sent me to the cell." Vegeta stalled, flashes of the acid covered walls, disintegrated in front of him. The smell of burnt flesh increased the further they walked down the black tunnel that led below the castle. Some called it the dungeon. Some it was referred to as Frieza's own personal hell. Which who ever visited there, knew it was.

"Before you were put in your cell they injected you with a poison that rendered your sight. Then they drilled into your side a chip that would cause shockwaves to pulse throughout your blood system if your ki flexed to a certain height."

"Do you have scars?" Vegeta reluctant however nodded. "Can we see them?" The black eyes of the Sayian defiantly drifted to his son who seemed to be more interested in the carpet then the story but Vegeta shook his head. He was very personal when it came to his scars. It made him feel…not clean when they were pointed out. "How big was the hole?"

"An inch wide, inch deep usually."

"While you are awake? Without a sedative?"

Vegeta chuckled, his tone however revealed no humor, "You forget this is a zone for torture. You get no sedatives. No rest."

"And you went through this when you were eight?"

"And thirteen and again at fifteen." Vegeta waited until he received a nod to continue. "They carried you to your cell which was a four by four foot box. On the three main sides where electric bars. And wall behind you and the ceiling had spikes covering it.

"For a Sayian, we can only go without food for eight hours max before all of our strength was gone. But Frieza knew of my potential and would keep me there unfed for ten to twenty hours. That way I would not be able to fight back.

"It was then past enemies were allowed to come down and bring you to the chamber of weapons. That was what the shot was for. So you would not be able to seek revenge on those coming to pathetically take their retribution. They were all cowards. They knew I was stronger and could not face me outright so they hid behind my blindness and took it to their advantage. And I had many enemies."

"Four at a time, they would usually use the electric whips that send three hundred volts of electricity through your body with each strike. They had an hour to get their aggression out. Some would choose the fire bars. Or the spike whip. After each beating, I received fifteen minutes to lay in unconsciousness giving me a bit of rest so I would not out right die in the next beating. I usually received five of the same before I was taken back to my holding cell and kept there for a few hours allowing blood to pour and pain to become unbearable until Frieza allowed me to be taken to the Regeneration Tank."

All were quiet, taking in what they could never even imagine. Bulma had tears in her eyes but she was ignorant of them staring out the window to ease her own pain. Dr. Nine cleared his own horrendous thoughts, "So that's the cell, huh? Now it's very understandable why you're claustrophobic. Was it always the same the other three times?" The doctor caught the sudden hesitation in the reflection of Vegeta's eyes. He saw the man mentally drawback and knew if he didn't say something quick he would never find out what it was that changed, "I see you brought your son here today." Mentally smiling, he viewed the Sayian's change of demeanor. He nearly sighed in relief. "May I ask why?"

Vegeta huffed, turning his head away. "Why don't you ask him?"

The doctor smiled turning to the boy. Niné had seen the child plenty of times on TV though he was mentally shocked at how depressing the boy seemed to be in real life. No fake smiles, no lies of laughter. But still he had to admit he was the perfect combination of his sires. No other couple could have created such a beautiful piece of creation. "Well, Young Mr. Briefs. Why have you come today?"

Trunks looked over to his mother who refused to look at him since last night. He had seen the fairest hint of a bruise forming across the side of her face. It made him think a moment of what had happened. "Father and I are not in the best of terms right now. He wanted me to know parts of his past so I'd understand why he is the way he is."

"And so far?"

"I still don't understand why it's so hard for him to tell me and Bra that he loves us."

Niné chuckled lightly, "You obviously don't know your father. I understand it."

"That's why I'm here."

Niné turned back to Vegeta whose eyes quickly darted away. "You have a very beautiful kid, Vegeta." He nodded. "Very smart. Honest. You raised him good."

"Not good enough." Bulma mumbled crossing her arms over her chest, turning her head away. Vegeta huffed in agreement.

"Back to the subject. Was it the same treatment all three times?"

Vegeta sighed through his nose. This was the best way for his son to understand. But was it the only way? There was nothing else that could be done, only to say. And he needed to say it. What will Trunks think of him? Will he think less of his father then he all ready does? Will his overall expectations of him as a man falter? Did it matter? Trunks had all ready hurt him more then Vegeta ever thought the kid was capable. Would it matter now what Trunks thought? In all honesty, not anymore. Not after those words had left his son's mouth. He didn't care what the child thought of him now. He would forever remember never to have expectations into his blood. "No."

"Which one?"

"When I was thirteen."

"Why did you get sent there?"