Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Friends ❯ 22 - A Message ( Chapter 22 )

Friends - an AU Vegebul Highschool Fanfic by LadyVegeets

Ch.22 - A Message

The dead dial tone beeped in her ear. For Bulma, it was as if the very world around her died with it.

The flashing computer screen brought her back, Vegeta's GPS coordinates beckoning, like a siren call. Bulma shook herself out of her paralysis, pocketing her phone and picking up her pen to write the rest of the coordinates down. As soon as she had them, Bulma dashed from the room. There was no time to waste. Without a second thought she grabbed the keys to one of their scooters, and even though she wasn't supposed to ride it, Bulma didn't care, jumping on and setting up the GPS. She peeled out of the garage and while riding, used the speaker on her phone to call the emergency number, asking for assistance at Vegeta's location. She hung up as soon as she'd relayed the message, having no time for whatever the dispatcher was saying because Bulma wanted to call Vegeta back.

It went straight to voice mail.

She struggled to see through her tears as she madly drove down the dark streets. Thankfully the hour and location meant there was little traffic to contend with. Finally, Bulma neared the GPS location, coming to a stop at a dead end road. She looked around. Off the side of the road was a small, paved square with a fountain. Something dark was lying sprawled against it, half illuminated in the light of the moon. Bulma got off her scooter and cautiously approached, her heart in her throat.

As she got closer, the shadow took form, becoming a familiar, spiky-haired silhouette. She picked up the pace, hurrying towards Vegeta. She could see now that he was clutching his belly, something glistening against his hands. He was sucking in small, pained breaths, and his head raised drunkenly to focus on her as she approached. His eyes widened, and he gave her a weak smile when he spotted her.

The sight of him just laying there was frightening, and when she reached his side she could see why he didn't move. He'd been stabbed in the gut. There was blood everywhere. A lot of it, pooling around him and soaked into his clothes. He looked pale, and she saw that his hands were trembling, barely able to clutch his wound to stem the bleeding. “Vegeta…” she gasped, alarmed.

At her voice, Vegeta's smile faded into a frown, and he blinked a few times. Finally he squeezed his eyes shut, grimacing. “Oh, fuck. You're actually here, aren't you, not just a hallucination? Goddamnit. How the fuck are you here?”

“I'm a genius, remember?” she said, her voice trembling, trying to sound braver than she felt. She pulled off her jacket and threw it over Vegeta's shoulders for what little good it would do for him. She looked around, hoping to hear or see signs of the ambulance she had called. “Helps on the way,” she reassured him. “You just hang in there.”

“Get out of here,” he said and weakly tried to shove her away, but she was easily able to resist him; his strength gone, his hand slicked red with his own blood.

“Stop moving!” she snapped frantically, scared that he'd bleed out before help could arrive. She gently took his hand and placed it back on his belly, pressing her own hands over his to help apply pressure. Vegeta shuddered, a tiny, pained sound escaping his lips.

“Ow…”

“Sorry!” she apologized, feeling helpless. Vegeta looked in a bad way, anemic and on the verge of passing out. She was terrified, and furious at him.

He looked up at her sickly, trying to muster a glare but it only made him look more wretched than intimidating. “This is gang territory,” Vegeta hissed at her. “Get the hell out now, Bulma. I can't protect you like this.”

“You can't even protect yourself!” she snapped back, her voice shrill, far more scared for his life than of where they were. She instantly regretted her words, knowing they were hash, but she was scared for both of them. “What happened?”

Vegeta started coughing. He doubled over, wheezing with pain and struggling for air. Bulma tried her best to support him. Finally he dropped back against the fountain, gasping up at the stars. “I fought Zarbon,” Vegeta said, his voice weak.

“I saw,” Bulma reminded him, keeping her hands firmly on his belly. “I was there, remember?”

Vegeta shook his head. “No, not the school match. A real fight. No rules.” He glanced at her, giving her a lopsided smile. “To the death.”

Bulma felt all the blood drain from her face, and if he wasn't already at death's door, she would have slapped him something fierce. “Are you INSANE?!”

Vegeta laughed, then winced, groaning. “Well… I didn't know about the death part until it was too late. Ha ha, I'm such a fool, thinking he'd fight fair… I almost had him, Bulma. You should have seen me, I was finally beating him, and then…”

“He stabbed you,” she guessed.

Vegeta sneered at the memory. “Yes. Didn't think… he'd have the balls… They won't have anything… on my father now…” Vegeta said, each word becoming harder and more painful for him to say. His eyes fluttered closed, and Bulma was worried he was losing consciousness.

“Hey, hey, stay with me,” she begged anxiously. She wanted to tap his face to keep him with her, but didn't want to remove her hands from his wound. To compromise, she leaned in and kissed him to keep his attention.

Vegeta moaned softly against her lips, from the kiss or pain she couldn't tell. She felt a couple tears slip down her cheeks as she watched Vegeta struggle to stay awake, dying under her hands. She screwed her eyes shut, fighting the urge to scream at the world in frustration and despair.

He gave her a weak, pained smile, his head tilting to the side. “You're mad at me,” he accused.

Bulma's bottom lip trembled. “I'm not.” She paused, looking at him, and rethought her answer. “Well, maybe.” She felt her frustration bubble out of her, unable to be contained. “Why did you have to fight Zarbon?! Why didn't you tell anyone?”

Vegeta finally settled on plonking his head against hers, unable to hold it up any longer. “Oh… Because he told me to… Threatened to hurt you if I didn't show up…”

Bulma gritted her teeth as tears filled her vision and fell down her face. Once again, she was the reason Vegeta was suffering. “You could have asked for help!” she said, half mad, half devastated. “Why didn't you call for an ambulance if you were able to call me, dumbass?”

“I'd rather confess to you than to some first responder,” Vegeta wheezed, and she couldn't tell if he was joking or serious. He raised a trembling hand, trying to touch her cheek. “To be honest, I'm… I'm surprised I'm even still breathing. Thought I only had minutes left… It's kinda ruining my dramatic farewell…” He tried to laugh but sucked in a pained breath, shuddering, and his hand fell to his side. “Besides, this is gang territory…” he muttered, then his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell limp.

“Vegeta…. Vegeta!” Bulma sobbed. He groaned, still conscious, but barely. Bulma was about the grab her phone and demand where the damn ambulance was when she heard footsteps and a voice approach.

“Yes, Sir. Yes, I know, I'm so sorry, Sir. It'll never happen again…”

Bulma squinted at the tall figure walking hurriedly in their direction. As whoever-it-was passed a street lamp she got a clear view of their face. Despite looking beat up, it was unrecognizably Zarbon. Bulma's blood went cold, her breathing hitching in panic.

Zarbon was talking to someone on the phone. “It was just a stomach wound, Sir, there's a good chance he's still…” Zarbon's voice trailed off and he came to a stop, spotting her over Vegeta's body. Bulma could feel her hands shake as their eyes locked. She didn't know if she was more terrified or furious. Okay, that was a lie, she was definitely more terrified. Vegeta was dying beneath her hands, and the one responsible had returned to the scene of the crime, with her helpless to protect herself or Vegeta from him.

Zarbon made an agitated sound and tried to cover his mouth as he spoke into the phone receiver. “Sir, the girl's here.”

Zarbon listened to a response before he agreed to something and turned off his phone, putting it in his pocket. Bulma felt her heart rate skyrocket as Zarbon continued walking straight towards her. She glanced at Vegeta but he was still out of it, his ragged breathing the only indication that he wasn't already dead.

Bulma was all on her own. She pulled out her phone, waving it ominously at Zarbon as though it were a weapon. “Stay back. I've already called the police and an ambulance,” she threatened.

Zarbon ignored her and kept coming until he was right on top of her. He was bruised up, his lip bleeding, his knuckles swollen, and he wasn't putting all his weight on his left leg. Vegeta might be dying, but he'd certainly managed to bang Zarbon up thoroughly before having taken a knife to the gut. Zarbon looked down at Vegeta with a sneer of distaste, then his gaze moved to Bulma. “You wasted your breath,” he told her coldly. “They won't come out here. It's too dangerous.”

Bulma reeled back as realization slapped her in the face. That's what Vegeta had meant about this being gang territory. That's why she hadn't heard an ambulance siren by now. That's what the dispatcher had tried to tell her before she hung up. Help wasn't coming. This part of town was so rife with crime that it wasn't even safe for first responders.

Zarbon crouched down next to Vegeta and reached for him.

“Don't touch him!” Bulma shrieked, shifting to put herself between Zarbon and Vegeta.

Zarbon shoved her away. “Cut that out, I'm here to help.”

“Like hell, you're the reason he's like this!” she protested shrilly.

Zarbon didn't seem concerned by the accusation. “I have orders to get him to safety. So unless you would like to carry him…?” he suggested caustically.

Bulma's mouth opened then snapped shut. She knew she had no chance of carrying Vegeta, who was some 160 pounds of pure muscle weight, and she also had no way of stopping Zarbon if he was going to brute force his way about, so she really had no choice but to go along with what he said. And as much as she hated to admit it, Zarbon was her only hope of getting Vegeta to medical aid.

When she made no further arguments, Zarbon grabbed Vegeta up and heaved the boy over his shoulder, grunting in pain as he did so from the injuries. Vegeta moaned, but lay limply, barely conscious. Bulma picked up Vegeta's cell and uncertainly followed after Zarbon. She glanced back, seeing how much blood was left where Vegeta had been. It was a miracle he was still alive.

They didn't walk far until they reached Zarbon's black convertible. Zarbon threw Vegeta unceremoniously in the back seat and Bulma climbed in after. Zarbon didn't say anything about her tagging along, and she only prayed he wasn't luring them somewhere discreet to dispose of them; she kept her phone close in case she had to make a desperate call. As Zarbon sped off, Bulma cradled Vegeta's head in her lap, trying to hold his body still and watch his breathing, her hands hugged about him, pressing down on his wound. They finally pulled up to the emergency entrance of a hospital, and Zarbon delivered Vegeta onto a stretcher as if dropping off a slab of meat, then he sped off without another look back as Bulma followed the stretcher inside.

The hospital staff rushed Vegeta in to surgery and she wasn't allowed in. A kind nurse offered her some water and asked who she was in relation to Vegeta. Bulma caught sight of the ring on her finger, slicked red from Vegeta's blood that covered her hands.

“I'm his wife,” she said, and she didn't feel the least bit bad for lying. The nurse comforted her and found her a quiet place to sit and fill out paperwork. The hours ticked by and Bulma was left with nothing better to do than cry and think of all the horrible things that could go wrong in surgery.

She reached for her phone to try and distract herself, but her hand found Vegeta's cell first. She turned on the screen to check the time and saw the picture he had set as his background. It was her, pulling at her eye and sticking out her tongue. She remembered sending the photo to him when she'd first given him his phone. That time felt like a life ago now. Would they ever get any more of those times together?

Bulma felt new tears well in her eyes. She cried for a long, long time, hugging his phone to her chest.

~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___ ~___X___~___X___~

“Mrs. Briefs?” Someone shook her shoulder gently and Bulma startled awake.

“Y-yes?” she asked, disorientated, not realizing she'd fallen asleep.

“Good news,” the same kind nurse from before told her. “Your husband is stable and out of surgery. We're just setting him up in a room now and you'll be able to visit him shortly, although you should know he'll sleep for a while yet from the anesthesia.”

Bulma felt tears of relief well up in her eyes as she nodded appreciatively to the nurse. “Thank you,” she croaked.

The nurse smiled, nodded and patted her arm. “I'll get you soon,” the nurse promised and left.

Bulma clutched her chest, elated, exhausted, reeling in disbelief. She laughed softly, even as a few tears escaped and ran down her cheeks. Vegeta was alive, he was going to live.

It was only then she noticed she wasn't alone in the waiting room.

In her peripheral vision she saw someone sitting in a chair on the other side of the room. Bulma looked and saw a young man, slender and not very tall. Something about him was incredibly imposing, intense, and it disturbed her to think he'd slipped in here while she slept. His pale hair was slicked back until it lay flat against his head, the ends tinted a pale purple. He wore a white and purple tracksuit, the outfit brand new, pristine, and he wore it as a king would wear robes. His eyes were small and narrow, piercing, and staring right at her.

He gave her a small, benign smile.

Bulma resisted the urge to shudder.

“I heard Vegeta's wife was here,” the young man said, his tone droll as he eyed her over. “I must say, I never expected him to marry so young, or so well… or to take on a woman's name.”

Bulma felt her throat go dry. He knew. Whoever this guy was, he knew she wasn't really Vegeta's wife. Bulma swallowed nervously, unsure what to say.

The man saw her discomfort and laughed, the sound as gentle as shattered glass. “Your secret is safe with me, Miss Briefs.” He even knew her name. “Allow me to introduce myself,” he said and stood up. He approached her and held out a hand. “I'm Vegeta's employer. Most people call me Frieza. You may do the same.”

Bulma felt a sickly cold wash over her, freezing her to the spot. She stared at the offered hand, then down at her own. Hers were still covered in blood and she was suddenly thankful for the excuse to not have to shake his hand. Frieza grimaced and retracted his hand.

“Sorry,” she said, although she wasn't. “…I uh, wasn't aware Vegeta had a job,” she added, trying to sound confident, or at least not as scared as she felt.

Frieza gave her a condescending smile. “Think of it more as an internship.”

Bulma didn't know what to say to that. She wasn't about to discuss the nuances of whether being in a gang was considered a career or not. She looked at the door, hoping the nurse would return soon and spare her this awkward meeting. Frieza followed her gaze, then looked back at her. “You know dear, Vegeta is one of my favorite interns. He's very smart, and resourceful, and obedient, with some careful cajoling. I find him most useful. I'd hate to think anything, or anyone, might distract him from his goals.”

Bulma felt herself starting to fume, Frieza invoking an ire in her that was quickly quashing her fear. For a man who supposedly ran the biggest gang about, he appeared to be nothing more than a well spoken bully. “His goals, or yours?” she spat back.

Frieza grinned. “Oh, are they not mutual? Pity. Perhaps you'd be good enough to speak to him on my behalf about that?”

“Why can't you deliver your own message?” Bulma asked, annoyed and confused as to why he was speaking to her at all.

“I don't have that luxury. I'm only his employer, not his `wife',” Frieza grinned at her, looking almost amused. “I can only visit during regular hours. Besides, I have other business to attend to. But I'll give you a message, and if you happen to remember to pass it along to Vegeta, I'd be most obliged.” He smiled at her coldly, and when she only glared at him, he continued. “Please relay my most sincerest apologies to Vegeta; Zarbon broke his leash but I'll be sure to see that he's properly disciplined for his actions. But do tell Vegeta that I've tolerated his little rebellious tantrum long enough. I expect results and I expect them soon, or else I'm going to have to take away one of his `toys'.”

Bulma might not have understood the intricacies of his message, but she knew a threat when she heard one. “Take away his toys? You sound more like his father than his employer,” she replied sarcastically.

Frieza splayed his hands and shrugged. “I've often fulfilled both roles. Well, I shouldn't keep you any longer. Just one final question, Miss Briefs.”

“Yes?”

“That would be Briefs of Capsule Corp, would it not?”

Bulma swallowed dryly. “It would.”

Frieza's eyes sparkled. “Delightful. Then I suppose it would be a useless gesture on my part to offer to pay for Vegeta's medical bill?”

Bulma narrowed her gaze. “It would. We can handle it. Vegeta doesn't need anything you could give him.”

Frieza laughed again, flashing his teeth. “If only that were true… I can see why he's enamored with you. But when you get bored of him, and crush his heart, I'll be there to pick him back up and give him purpose once again. Then we'll see who can give him what he needs.”

Bulma felt her hands shaking with such fury she was barely able to refrain herself from slapping Frieza right across the face. She'd never hated anyone so much and so quickly in her life as she loathed this man right now.

“Good evening, Miss Briefs of Capsule Corporation. Don't forget my message,” Frieza said with a smirk, and he left her in the waiting room.

Bulma watched the hallway he vanished down for a long while to ensure that he was really gone. Her mind was spinning, analyzing and agonizing over everything he'd told her. She glanced back at the door where the nurse had vanished, and when it didn't seem she would return any time soon, Bulma pulled out her phone and dialed Raditz's number.

He answered on the third ring. She hadn't expected him to, so she was caught off guard when he answered. “Bulma? What's up, Lovely?”

“Raditz…” Bulma wasn't sure what to say, having thought she'd only be leaving a voicemail. “I, uh… Did I wake you?”

“Nah, love, I'm a night owl, and always available for a pretty lady. What can I do for you?”

“Oh… I just needed your, um, expertise.”

There was a pregnant pause on the line. Then, hesitantly, he asked, “About what?”

Bulma looked down at the blood on her hands. She really needed to clean up before seeing Vegeta. “About the people you used to associate with.”

“Oh,” Raditz replied, sounding disappointed. There was another pause, then he laughed sheepishly. “So this isn't a booty call?”

Bulma felt a flush creep up her face. “I, what? NO. WHAT THE HELL, RADITZ?!”

“Whoa, whoa, calm down, Bulma. A guy can dream, can't he?”

“No!” She screamed back hotly. “I'm hanging up and deleting your number, you pervert!”

“Bulma, please,” Raditz tried to cajole her. “I jest, I jest.”

Bulma fumed, stewing over the nerve of Raditz. She would have to have serious words with Goku about his cousin later. “You're sick, never mind why I called. Good night!”

“Bulma, I'm sorry. C'mon, what did you want to ask me? I'm all ears. I promise, I swear on Lucy.”

“Who?”

“The pink teddy bear my granny gave me.”

Bulma sighed, giving in, Raditz's ridiculous sense of humor wearing her down, and she really did need someone to talk to. “Ugh, fine. I just… I wanted to know what it would mean if someone who was in a gang said they were going to take away someone's `toy'.”

Raditz hummed, thinking. “Well, it would depend on the context and person speaking, but it sounds like a threat to me.”

“Well I figured at least that out,” she snapped back scathingly, thinking this had been a huge waste of time.

“Hey, look babe, you're not giving me much to work with here,” Raditz defended. “Why don't you tell me what's actually going on? …Are, are you in some kind of trouble?” He paused, his voice taking on a more concerned edge. “Bulma, did someone threaten you?”

“No, not me, exactly…” Bulma trailed off, feeling the stress of the night weigh on her. She really ought to wash her hands.

“Bulma, what happened? Where are you?” he asked, sounding more worried now.

His rising concern spiked her own as she realized she didn't know the answer to that question. Bulma felt unbidden tears start to rise and she looked around, trying to find some sign of what hospital she was in. “I … I don't know. A hospital, but it's not the one I know.”

“You're in hospital?”

“No, n-not me…Vegeta.” She glanced around until she saw a pen with the hospital logo on it. “Um, it's Mercy West apparently.”

“Shit, Bulma. Why are you guys in this part of town?”

She sniffed as tears started falling. “They s-stabbed Vegeta.”

“Jesus… What happened?”

Bulma started to explain, and once she started, she couldn't stop the words as they tumbled from her mouth, falling as easily as her tears. She relayed the whole story to Raditz, telling him about the stabbing, Vegeta's involvement with the Icejin, and now Frieza's message.

“Damn… You fell in the deep end of a big pool of trouble, didn't you?” Radtiz said when she was done.

Bulma nodded, still crying softly. “Wh-what does it mean, Raditz? What should I do?”

“You have to tell him,” Raditz said adamantly. “That message isn't something you can keep from Vegeta, not without repercussions. These aren't some wanna-be thugs we're talking about, not like the group I was with. You're talking about Frieza here. He's hardcore organized criminal activity. He's the mob king. And from the sounds of it, he just threatened to kill someone close to Vegeta if your boy doesn't get back in line.”

Bulma felt as if an ice cold hand gripped her throat, chills raking her nerves, numbing her. There were only two people close to Vegeta, his father being one, and she the other.

“Bulma, this is dangerous,” Raditz continued, his voice serious. “Your life could be in danger just for associating with the Prince.”

“The who?” Bulma stuttered, barely able to keep up with Raditz, her mind still reeling from the implication of what Frieza's message had meant.

“The Prince. Vegeta,” Raditz said, exasperated. “Didn't you know? That's his street name. I can't believe I didn't put it together earlier. He's one of Frieza's favorites. Zarbon too, although that guy's probably a dead man walking after making an attempt on Vegeta's life without Frieza's okay. You just have to mention their names to anyone in the know, and people will crap their pants. You're messing around with the key players of the Icejin, love, and no one does that and walks away unscathed.”

Bulma tried to gather her strength despite the overwhelming fear she felt. “Well, what are you saying, that I just leave? I'm not going to abandon him, Raditz. I love him!” she blurted before she could stop herself. She put a hand to her mouth, shocked at her admission. She hadn't told that to anyone other than Vegeta.

Raditz was silent on the other end of the line before sighing. “…. Damn. I really missed my chance, didn't I?”

“With what?”

“Nothing, love. You've got enough on your plate,” he replied, his tone a little sad. “Okay, you stay put, I'm coming over. I don't think you should be alone.”

“I'm not going anywhere,” she said tiredly. “But I'll be seeing Vegeta soon, and they won't let you in until visiting hours if you're not immediate family.”

“Then how did you manage?” Raditz asked her, surprised.

Bulma cleared her throat. “I um… maybe embellished the truth a little.”

Raditz chuckled. “That's my girl. Well, I'll visit later then. Are you gonna be okay? Do you need anything?”

“Sleep,” she admitted, trying to keep her tone lighthearted. And to see Vegeta.

“Alright. Hang in there, babe. I'll be there when I can.” And with that, Raditz hung up, and Bulma was once again alone. She put her phone away, noticing her hands were trembling. She got up and went to the bathroom to scrub the blood off. As the water ran red in the sink, she was reminded of the time Vegeta had treated her wounds. Her hands had been shaking then too. He had told her it was the shock and that she should eat something.

Bulma looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. She looked pale, ashen, her eyes swollen from crying, and there was blood smeared on her face and all over her clothes. She looked like she belonged in a horror movie. Bulma wished she'd asked Raditz to bring a change of clothes, but doubted he'd have anything she could wear. She scrubbed at her face to clean herself up.

When she came out of the bathroom she only had to wait a few minutes before the nurse finally collected her and took her to Vegeta's room.

Vegeta was lying in a hospital bed, sound asleep. He looked pale and sickly, but his breathing was deep and even. Bulma felt an overwhelming relief just being able to see him and be close to him again. She pulled up a chair and took Vegeta's limp hand between her own. She ran her fingers over his skin, her eyes locked to his face, taking in every detail of him, grateful she could admire him and know that it wasn't going to be for the last time.

I love you, he'd said on the phone. He'd also thought it was the last thing he was ever going tosay to her. As soon as he was well enough, Bulma was going to have to kick his ass for the emotional stress he'd put her under.

Bulma rested her head on the bed and let her eyes fall closed as she listened to the rhythmic sounds of his breathing, each breath he took a soothing melody that soon lulled her into sleep.

~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___ ~___X___~___X___~

An: Good night, sweet Prince and Heiress <3

… I really adore Raditz's antics here XD

So, I feel compelled to say to you guys who review, you guys are f*cking rad, I super enjoyed reading all your comments for the last chapter!! ^_^ I love hearing everyone's reactions and theories and things they liked best and what resonated with them. Keep those reviews coming!

Also, AlienaChan on twitter drew an adorable little fanart piece of Bulma feeding Vegeta. GalacticShark17 continues to draw Vegebul fanart for this and other stories too. You should take a gander at their accounts if you get the chance. I also might be getting some fanart from a certain someone for my Girl Next Door fanfic… keep your fingers crossed, I know I am!! ;)

If anyone else wants to send lovely detailed reviews or fanart my way, that's the surest way to my cold, black, Vegeetery heart. Make me hurt, baby, I'm ready. >:)

GUYS - It's almost Bulma's birthday, Aug 18th. How should we celebrate? International DBZ Day or something?