Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Hope Leaves ❯ Silhouette of a life ( Chapter 2 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

-ten years

...hours later...

Vegeta sat cross legged on the forest floor, meditating. It was mid morning now, hours since he'd left the house, since he'd met the confusing stranger, since he'd moved at all, yet the biting chill of the wind and the icy numbness settling upon his harsh features went completely unnoticed. Shafts of weak sunlight illuminated the ground in rapidly shifting patterns around his perfectly still figure. He was somewhere deep in his imagination, recalling the dream that preceded the mess that was this morning.

*Bulma sits on the edge of the bed, glass in hand, a lazy grin on her face. She is clearly drunk. 'What's the occasion?' I hear myself ask in an unusually high voice. She turns her nose up at me and giggles, then walks away, stumbling as she goes. I follow her out into the hall where a smell- its hard to tell whether its vile or ordinary-overpowers me instantly. Its familiar- cold metal. The circular halls of Frieza's ship tunnel off into the distance in a comical, impossible way. I feel dizzy. Bulma comes into view again. She is waving her glass at somebody who sits beside her to emphasise a point in the lively discussion they are having. Her companion's face is familiar, somebody from the ship for sure, but his name eludes me. There is a fork in the hall nearby, and the path veering off to the left leads into a river for some reason. I walk towards it, feeling dizzier and dizzier because the water is swaying and swelling in the most nauseating way imaginable. Trunks is out there swimming and so is Goten's girlfriend. I wade out a little way, then feel a hand on my shoulder. Looking up I see Jeice standing there. Why am I looking up? 'It's OK, we can go out further,' he says. 'I can't swim,' says my voice even though I know I can. 'Don't worry,' he whispers. He takes my hand, leading me out, deeper and deeper; the river seems to go on and on. Suddenly I'm alone and can't remember how to swim. I look at Trunks, who is still visible somehow. He rolls his eyes, turns away. The water becomes very thick, making it hard to kick my legs to stay afloat. The current is dragging me under. Thick, sticky water fills my eyes, my mouth, my throat, my lungs. Everything is dark beneath the surface. That's when I realise what's really pulling me down- hands. So many hands. Grasping, scratching, drawing blood. Touching every inch of me. Taking me wherever it is they're going. Abject terror seeps into my cuts, into my lungs with the water. I'm choking, choking, dying for breath. My chest is tightening, my throat is closing. My lungs, screaming as I slowly choke to death...*

Then Bulma slapped him, at least that's what seemed to have happened when he finally registered the faint after-sting on his cheek. For a while he couldn't breath at all, which made it a desperate effort not to show what was going on within him, but finally the air found its way back into his lungs and he spoke. Then she spoke, and it all went downhill from there. A strong desire to feel her skin under his hands, to hang onto her, had consumed him. The comfort of her body would help him breath easily again, but of course she insisted on words, words and more words, on questions that tightened around his throat like a noose, suffocating him, just as in the dream. So he left.

It was only a dream, why couldn't she just let it be? She could be a stubborn bitch when she felt like it, but the problem was that she wasn't really the problem, was she? Because it wasn't just a dream, even though it had all the usual aspects of a dream- people you knew were there, the sequence of events was completely illogical even when it did include things that had happened before, and you could be in the present, twenty years back in the past, or both. All the usual nonsense was there, yet none of them felt like 'just dreams', they were more like entities, demons that extracted pieces of soul whilst he slept and distorted his perceptions so that what he experienced were these hellish nightmares from which he couldn't wake. At least that's how it seemed, considering how weak they always left him.

Sighing heavily, Vegeta wished he could sleep. He felt so tired, so drained, too lifeless to even be angry anymore. But sleep would not come, this much was certain. For one reason or another, true sleep had eluded him all his life. There was always restlessness, awakenings, *dreaming*. Each time the choking or whatever sensation it happened to be lasted a little longer, each time it was a little harder to wake up... and perhaps someday he simply wouldn't. What a terrifying thought. Or was it comforting? Overhead, ghostly clouds of a thousand shades of gray hurried across the sky as if to get away from something, except for a few of them hanging low that ambled along as if in a daze, confused like him.

Why waste time thinking about this rubbish? It's not as if it changed things at all, apart from making him feel worse. Distractions were a much more productive option. That was just what he needed, a distraction, like training until he'd torn every muscle in his body and passed out from exhaustion, if only he wasn't already exhausted. With some debate it was decided that he'd think about what to say to that madman instead. Thoughts, images and memories came rushing in, moving quickly like the the clouds so it was hard to hang onto any of them. He closed his eyes.

'Have you been out here all this time?'

Vegeta gasped and whirled around, almost giving himself whiplash in the process. The doctor stood there looking down at him as shadows fell across his gentle, aging features that seemed softer now in the moonlight, except for his eyes which were incredibly sharp and pale green. Wait, where did the moonlight come from?

'I'll take that as a yes. I didn't mean to startle you, I'm sorry,' he continued, watching the eyes of the man on the ground dart wildly from one side to the other in an alarmed fashion. 'What's the matter? You seem worried.'

'Is it really night time?' came the quiet reply.

'Of course it is. Whatever else brings the darkness?'

*More than you know*, Vegeta thought, but did not voice it. 'I feel like morning was only a moment ago. Must have lost track of time...' he muttered at the earth, his head lowered and eyes out of focus.

'Does that happen a lot?'

No reply.

'Do you lose track of time often?'

'Of course. Everybody does. You know, you're absorbed in something, or you're thinking, and time just...' he fluttered his fingers upwards rather than finishing the sentence, piercing black eyes following the motion and looking terribly disoriented.

'Well, I suppose you're right, but there is such a thing as a normal amount of time you can lose without noticing, a few hours perhaps but- have you eaten at all?'

'I haven't been particularly hungry.'

'*OK*... Hmm... I'm a little hungry myself, perhaps you'd like to join me for supper and we can get started?'

'I suppose so. It is getting cold. The last time we met, do you recall saying you'd see me at the same time tomorrow?' Vegeta asked as he stood.

'I believe so,' the doctor replied, wondering where this was going.

'You realise it was around four in the morning?'

'Was it? I can't really say I know much about the time here. Time was different where I come from.'

'I suggest you get a watch rather than start a habit of showing up completely unexpected. Just because I've agreed to help you with this little scheme of yours doesn't mean you can drop in whenever you please. I have a very busy schedule.'

The doctor considered asking what had happened to the saiyan's busy schedule this past day, but didn't wish to provoke the temper that was seeping into his voice any further. Reading people's moods was something he was very skilled at but this man was more difficult than most, swinging from one to the other frequently, sometimes deceptively calm, sometimes temperamental, sometimes blunted.

'Of course, of course. I would have asked you yesterday about an appropriate time but I- I guess I didn't really have my wits about me,' a pleasant laugh accompanied the words.

*I'd be surprised if you ever did*, Vegeta thought to himself with a smirk, not that he had any grounds to ridicule the stranger considering he himself had agreed to take part in this lunacy for some unknown reason. But any distraction would be welcome at the present time, even if it was a tea party with the mad hatter.

'Well hopefully you'll locate them sometime in the near future, for your sake.' A pause. 'So I suppose you've got questions for me?'

'You're right, though I think it would be easiest if we start somewhere very general and then you tell me what you think is important while I ask a few questions and make minor suggestions if there's anything else I'd like to know that you haven't already brought up. It works best that way I find, it reduces the risk of my leading-'

'Whatever,' Vegeta cut in, not really listening.

'Uhh... well I suppose where I was hoping to start was at the beginning. Perhaps you could tell me about how you began your service in Frieza's army and what were your early, what do we say, *activities*?'

The younger man's dark eyes looked troubled for a moment, but a veil of stoicism quickly covered this and he proceeded to speak.

'It began when I was around 8 or 9 years old I think. I was sent to live on Frieza's ship for an indeterminate period of time to further my training. My father said it was an honor that I'd been selected to serve in Frieza's army at my age, that it would be very good experience and wouldn't be for terribly long, something I know he wasn't lying about but that isn't the way things turned out. I heard just a few short weeks later that my planet had been destroyed in a meteor collision, at least that's what Frieza claimed had happened. By that time I'd already gone on my first mission, and that was an interesting experience if I've ever had one-'

'Wait a moment Vegeta, if you don't mind. Could you tell me how it was when you found out your planet had been destroyed?'

There it was again, that brief hint of distress. And then anger.

'Well you know,' he snapped. 'The usual. I wasn't pleased about it but there's no use crying over spilled milk is there. We saiyans are taught to be strong in times of hardship.' A note of challenge in the words, as though to dare the doctor to continue that line of questioning.

'Anyway. I was on a planet called Siriath, fairly nearby my own. I was with some other soldiers, lets see Kui was there and Nappa, another saiyan, was also there, and Jeice whom I shared a room with and who wasn't a great deal older than myself at the time, I think he was about 15. It was a fairly dull place, a lot of desert, but livable. And apparently there were parts where there was a lot of oil and precious metals to be harvested...

*… it's very hot, there are enough bugs buzzing around my head to drive me mad, and I'm getting anxious. I've never done this before and I just want to get started. The anticipation is killing me. I don't want to ask Kui what's going on because he disgusts me thoroughly, he has the head of a repulsive blue fish. No point asking Nappa, he's a bit slow and only ever tells you things you don't need to know. So I ask Jeice what it is we're waiting for.
''ang on 'ang on, we have to smoke 'em out before we go rushing in. They're real quick these people, we got to get 'em in one place.
From where we're hiding I can see the smoke rising on the outskirts of the villages.
'It's been a while since we started the fires in the tunnels, what's left of them will be back in the villages soon enough,' says Kui. 'Have patience saiyan. There's such a thing as using the mind in battle.'
I snarl at him in response to this insult then feel a hand on my shoulder.
'Don't mind him kid, he just ain't had his beauty sleep have ya Kui?'
Kui's only response is to scowl and turn away. The expression makes him look uglier than usual.
'Aww, come on. Gunna have plenty of fun today, don't ruin it before it starts. We'll find ya a nice lady ey? That'll cheer you up. Tell you what, some of these cunts aren't half bad. Even if they are blue...' he nudges me as he says this and I snicker. I bet Kui's face is getting even uglier right now.
'NOW!' Nappa shouts suddenly, and we take off towards the villages. We materialise in the center of the chaos. Instantly hundreds of agonising screams fill my ears. The smoke makes it harder to breath. I can see a lot of people running around and some of them are burning alive, a sight the likes of which I've never seen before. I'd witnessed duels and some bloody battles, but this was something else. I stare at the burning figures running around in a frenzy; if I look hard enough at those close by I can see the process of their flesh cooking, the shades of their skin deepening and finally becoming pale like roasted white meat. The smell is so horrendous that I almost gag. I can see shreds of their charred flesh falling off their limbs like grotesque garments, they are disintegrating before my eyes.
'C'mon kid we gotta kill 'em off quick. Too much smoke,' Jeice coughs. 'start with that one right there,' he points out a woman with bright red eyes who is looking around frantically and clutching an infant. Without really thinking I throw a weak blast at her, thinking it will do the trick, but she jumps out of the way, not completely avoiding it. I can see I've burnt her badly as the infant goes sprawling out of her arms. Just as she makes a move for the screaming creature lying meters away on the dusty ground I block her. I see now how fast I need to move. She looks at me like she doesn't believe this is happening , then lunges forward as if to move straight through me, like I am a ghost or something. My reaction is to drive my hand straight through her liver. For a moment I cannot move or breath, thoroughly mesmerised by the rivulets of blood that come pulsing forth from the wound, like a heated, racing river of life that flows over my arm & swallows it down into its rich red waters.
It's not what I expected really, her death that is. I'd killed before, but mostly creatures like saibamen, not anything that looked like this, not anything that counted. Not a person. I'd always imagined my first kill would be glorious, a heated duel with blows flying and limbs dancing, slowly wearing down my opponent until that last look of defeat as my energy pierces his heart. Then everyone around me would cheer... or something, I hadn't really thought that part over so much, only the best part. But there is none of that as it turns out. It's all over so quickly for one thing, but the most shocking aspect of it are her eyes which betray no defeat, & especially none of that other thing I'd sometimes imagined in my idle daydreams. There's no hint of respect, no awe or admiration for the skilled warrior who cut her down, no pride that at least she would die in battle at the hands of a formidable opponent, the highest honor among my people. That's what I'd be feeling were I in her position, or at least I'd like to think so, though I would learn years later that the moment of death was nothing like my foolish childhood fantasies.
All I see in the wide, red eyes is complete shock and a profound but questioning sadness, as if she thinks it's all some terrible mistake yet knows deep down that it's not. And then there's nothing really. She screams, a painful, earsplitting scream that's wordless and saying a lot at the same time (I suppose her life is flashing in front of her eyes), right before a vibrant gush of blood projects from her mouth & muffles the terrible sound. Then silence. Her eyes become wider still, burning into mine as though to brand their image onto my retinas so I will never forget what I've done. She may die now, but behind my eyes she is determined to live on. Before the life goes out of her completely, she gazes at her infant and smiles. Having seen enough of this thoroughly disturbing scene, I blast the two of them into oblivion together.
Afterward, we are all standing around, some distance from the towns which we've completely voided of all life. Kui has brought a guest along 'to celebrate', Jeice says. Her back is pressed up against a rock and his body is pressed against hers. Tears run down her face. I don't know exactly what they're doing apart from some anatomically incorrect idea I've formulated, but I pretend to so Jeice won't think I'm stupid.
'She's not too bad,' Nappa says, his eyes fixed on the scene.
'She ain't bad at all,' Jeice replies. 'But when he's done with 'er it's gunna be full of caviar. Do you really want to have that experience?'
I know what that means at least and I laugh. Jeice smiles as Nappa's face wrinkles in disgust.*

They reached a small, dully lit cafe just as Vegeta was finishing the bloody tale. Once inside, they sat down in the booth at the back, away from the other customers.

'Is it really like that?' the doctor queried in soft voice. 'You don't just- they don't just destroy inhabited areas in an instant. You actually have to go through and execute everyone. People suffer.'

'Sometimes we did it that way, if the buyers weren't bothered by a bit of land damage. Saves time. But you understand that to kill off a substantial amount of people you often need large scale explosions and the resultant damage may reduce the resale value of the planet. You can't do things the easy way all the time.'

White ringlets fell over his eyes as he tried to hide his anger. No feeling, no remorse accompanied the man's words as he spoke about his victims. He talked about genocide as one would about extermination of a bothersome pest infestation that had to be dealt with, explaining what way was cheapest, what way was quickest. But this wasn't the time to be thinking of things that would cloud his judgment and interfere with the task at hand.

'So that's how it often was?'

'Often.'

'I see.'

'Would you like to order?' Said a short waitress who had approached without either of them noticing. She was smiling but her eyes were tired.

'Just a coffee for me, if you don't mind,' the doctor answered.

She wrote this down then turned to look at Vegeta, her eyes lighting up in recognition.

'Hello,' she beamed. 'How's your wife?'

'She's well.'

'She hasn't been in much the past few weeks. Inventing something exciting is she?'

'Not really. Just a lot of meetings.'

'Yuck. I hate staff meetings,' she said, sticking her tongue out in disgust. She was amusing, this girl. Her childish mannerisms reminded him of his daughter sometimes. 'You want anything tonight?'

'No thank you.'

'Righto, won't be long.'

'Know her do you?' The doctor said sometime later.

'Obviously.'

'So you come here often?'

'With the woman. Sometimes she feels like greasy food. It's not bad here. I thought you said you were hungry.'

'I'm afraid I've lost my appetite,' came the reply tinged with distaste. Vegeta smirked at him evilly.

'My story upset you, did it?'

The doctor's eyes were fixed on the checked tablecloth, but Vegeta could see his right eye twitching. A sense of satisfaction filled him, then an odd thought came to mind out of nowhere.

'Most people I've seen, and I've seen many, are like the people of earth. They're peaceful, they don't really like to kill. I'm a saiyan so it's different for me, but I do wonder sometimes what it must be like for the ones who aren't like me but who do what I did. There were plenty of men in Frieza's army that were natural born killers, but many are like you say, just children who's parents thought they were giving them up to a better life, or survivors of destroyed words that Frieza thought would be useful to him.'

'I know. I'd noticed.'

'Killing makes people crazy, even if they think they want to do it-'

'Maybe that's because they have compassion for others.'

'Or maybe it's because others are always putting the idea that its wrong into their heads,' he continued firmly, starting to sound annoyed again. 'There's this play I read once, about some man, can't remember his name. In any case he was already of high rank, but his wife suggested he murder the king to advance himself-'

'Are you talking about Macbeth?'

'That's it. How did you know?'

'I've seen it. Exceptional literature like that usually extends its influence beyond its planet of origin.'

'I know. I read it long before I came here. As I was saying- well I've lost my place now, but the point I was coming to was that they both go mad. His wife keeps seeing the blood on her hands.'

'And he starts seeing his dead victims.'

'Which may have just been a case of really bad food poisoning. Or hallucinogenic soup, or something. There were lot of mad men where I lived all those years. Some of them couldn't even remember their own names. You shouldn't... blame them. They didn't all wish to do what they did.'

'And what of you?' The doctor could not stop himself asking the question.

'What of me? Yours or anyone else's blame is inconsequential. You cannot bring retribution against me,' Vegeta said, his face hardening.

The doctor cleared his throat. 'When do you wish to meet next?' A change of subject.

'Four days from now, same place as last time. And I expect you to be early next time. 7am, I won't wait long. Don't forget that watch.' With that, Vegeta got up and left without so much as a goodbye. The doctor sighed in relief, the crawling sensation over his skin slowly subsiding. The waitress looked over then turned, supposedly to get his bill, so he took a few notes from his pocket not knowing how much he was actually placing on the table.

Annie turned to get the bill from behind the counter since it looked like the curly headed fella in the back had finished his coffee. Seconds later she turned back to find he'd disappeared, leaving $20 on the table. She searched for him frantically, scanning the immediate area outside the window. She'd could see Vegeta fading into the distance, but no sign of his friend. However Annie was quickly distracted from this peculiarity.

'Lynn, Lynn, Lynn!' she called to an older waitress wiping tables on the other side of the cafe.

'What is it hon?'

'I got a 16 buck tip!'

It had been four nights since Vegeta had begun his little expose' to a mad man who'd first wondered into his garden at 4am of a Sunday morning, who'd show up where ever he happened to be at 7am tomorrow. He hadn't been home since, having chosen to go out to the mountains where he'd been training intensely, barely stopping to eat or even rest, however he'd decided that tonight would be the night to return. A sick feeling had descended over him this last day, which was probably a result of overdoing it the last few days though it all seemed to start after the last time he slept and of course dreamed. Not a distressing dream like the usual, yet when he woke he'd felt ill. He'd been lying in a clearing with the sunlight glaring into his eyes and two men peering down at him. They looked human, but their features were warped somehow. 'Despicable,' one of them snorted. Then came the prick in the shoulder, the sharp pain in the neck, and he woke. That pain in his neck still hadn't gone away, in fact it was getting worse, as was the sick feeling that followed the dream, but he figured it was probably just a spider bite. God damn insect and bugs, he couldn't stand the disgusting things. The thought of one of them crawling over his neck as he slept made him nauseous.

He took his time flying low over the mountains. There was a peace there in deep blues, jades and violets of the peaks, coloured by the shadows and dying light of dusk. The hues blurred into each other, soothing the festering tension that was growing in the pit of his stomach as did the meandering chorus of forest sounds, of leaves rustling, of birds singing goodnight songs, of life's general hum. Gradually the horizon deepened, casting the spell of night over the land. There was no moon tonight and the sky was clouding over. Soon the world would be pitch black and all things would be hidden.
But West City was becoming visible in the distance, and he knew the lights would be on in Bulma's window, waiting to sting his tired eyes.

***

Bulma had just put Bra to bed. As she walked down the hall, she heard a noise that she was certain came from her bedroom and froze. What if someone had broken in?!! *That man is just never around when you need him!* She thought to herself in a huff as she lifted a heavy vase from one of the many hallway tables and proceeded to slowly edge towards her room, the vase help high over her head. Once she got there, she peered into the keyhole but couldn't see anything, then without really thinking pushed the door open with her shoulder with a warrior cry, holding the vase higher overhead. Much to her embarrassment, there stood Vegeta himself. He took one look at her and burst out laughing.

'Uhhhgh!' she growled loudly. 'You IDIOT! You just break in through the window after being gone nearly a week?!!!' She pitched the vase at him as hard as she could, but of course he dodged it and a loud noise rang through the hall as it shattered against the windowsill. Vegeta was in hysterics by this time. Then little footsteps could be heard approaching quickly and Bra decided to barge in, having heard the commotion.

'Daddy!' she squealed with delight. Vegeta quickly lunged to pick her up so she wouldn't walk straight over the glass.

'Careful Bra, there's glass everywhere.'

She looked at the ground and her eyes widened. 'Uh oh, where did that comed from?'

'You're mother. She's been throwing things at me,' Vegeta replied, chuckling.

'Naughty mummy, blpphh' she stuck out her tongue at Bulma and made a noise with her tongue, earning more laughter from her father.

'Don't you make noises at me young lady, you get back to bed right now!'

'But daddy's home!' Bra cried indignantly.

'Yes I know, and I have to talk to daddy because he's got some explaining to do! Now back to bed, you can play tomorrow!'

'Nah-uh, daddy wants to play wif me an not wif you!'

'Vegeta, would you help me out here!' Bulma shrieked, getting exasperated.

'Calm down woman I'll be back in a little while. You put this child to bed too early anyway. She has too much energy.' With that he sidestepped her and left the room with Bra, hearing the door slam behind him so hard it was a miracle it didn't fall off its hinges.

'Mummy's mad.' Bra giggled.

'Mummy's fucking furious,' he muttered.

'You swore,' she said into his shoulder.

'Nonsense,' he replied.

About an hour later the child was back in bed, having finished putting on a play for him with her dolls and reiterating what she'd been doing the past few days in that incoherent babble of hers. Much to his regret he was now heading back to the bedroom to do some explaining, or whatever it was Bulma said. There was something sad about this, not to say that he actually *felt* sad but to simply acknowledge the fact that it was sad, this regret he felt walking towards her now. There was a time when her anger used to excite him, to ignite some spark inside that had been all but dead for so many years before he'd come to know her. She was changed now, sometimes seeming more bitter than fiery, and perhaps it was being with him that changed her. Perhaps. It wasn't hard to infect people with bitterness if you were around them enough. Of course there were still times when she was herself, and he had a few things to say that might just calm her down. Standing outside the door, he figured it might be wise to knock this time.

The door opened slowly to reveal just her face, which looked thoroughly exhausted. She turned her back on him, walking over to sit by the windowsill and stare into the blackness outside. If you listened carefully, the bustling, rushing sounds of the city could be heard as always, echoing and reaching out from a world that never slept.

'Done hiding behind your daughter?' she asked calmly. When she got no reply she continued. 'You've got to stop doing this to me. What am I supposed to tell the kids when they ask me where you are? And after a week or so you just walk right back in the door, no, the window this time, then I yell and scream and *I* look like the lunatic-'

'-lunatic that throws things.'

'Lunatic that throws- wait no! Don't do that!' she growled, correcting herself. 'You on the other hand look like you just stepped outside for a five minute stroll!' As she spoke, her husband stared at her as if she were talking gibberish, making her feel like she was the idiot as usual. Then something caught her eye.

'Uhhg, Vegeta what is that on you're neck?'

'Just a spider bite. What of it?'

'Spider bite... it doesn't look like a spider bite, it's more like a...' she came closer, inspecting the small but fairly disgusting looking wound on his neck. 'Gross, it's infected! Have you even looked at it?'

He rolled his eyes. 'It's nothing woman. And no I haven't looked at it. I don't spend nearly as much time looking into mirrors as you do.'

'But there's rust in it-'

'Sure, there's rust in it. Must have been a rust spider...'

'I'm being serious, stop making fun of me!'

'It's probably just a bit of dirt,' he said loudly, his patience already running out. 'Stop fussing over it, I'm fine!'

'Alright, fine! You're fine, as always,' she spat, walking away to sit down by the window again, and none to quietly either.

'I can see you're angry, but if you'll just calm down and listen for half a second, I've actually got something to say that you might consider good news.'

All she did was laugh at this. He narrowed his eyes but pressed on anyway. 'You know how you've been bothering me lately to see a doctor?'

'Yes,' she muttered.

'Well, I took your advice.'

She turned to look at his smirking face, interested now. 'You went to see a doctor?'

'That's what I said isn't it?'

'*You* went to see a doctor?' She repeated, laughing mockingly as if he were telling a particularly stupid joke. Then she sighed.

'If that's the truth, then good. I'm glad you're seeing a doctor.'

'You don't believe me, do you?' he replied, sounding insulted.

'Look... can we talk about this later? Right now I really need you do something. Three days ago Trunks went off to some sought of party. I don't know what it was or where it was exactly because he wasn't clear with me. He said he'd be back yesterday afternoon but I haven't heard from him at all. He's not at Goten's either because I called Chi Chi. He might be with this girl, she was with him when he came and told me he was going. Pale hair, sought of flushed skin, real skinny-'

'So he's gone off with another one of those pop tarts he's so fond of. Nothing new there.'

'Please Vegeta, just go find him, and make sure he comes home with you. I've had about enough of that kid. *Just like his father*,' she huffed, adding this last part under her breath. ' Just bring him home and *maybe* I won't be pissed off with you anymore.'

'I think I know where he is,' he conceded, not in the mood to argue anymore. He stepped past her, opening the door that lead out onto the balcony. Neither of them looked at each other or bothered to say goodbye as he flew off, but Bulma stared after his shrinking form, all of her anger and hurt now replaced by confusion. Had he been telling the truth?

Several hours later Vegeta entered the house again, hauling his son's unconscious body along with him. This time he came through the back door. After unceremoniously dumping Trunks on the lounge room couch, he walked back upstairs to the bedroom, trying not to bump into walls on the way. He was so mad he couldn't see straight, yet he was trying to be as silent as possible to avoid waking Bulma up because there was only so much bullshit he could put up with in a single night. Somehow he managed to slip into bed without waking her. Days worth of exhaustion overtook him and he was a asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

*I'm staring up at the ceiling, which is moving. The walls aren't very far apart, they never have been, it's a small room after all. There's only so much room on this ship, yet the walls seem to be getting even narrower. Something is leaking from the ceiling, dripping down onto both of us. I can't see him, but I know Jeice is there. This is our room. I turn to look at him and he's there, lying beside me. Whatever it is that's leaking on us is brown, oily, like sludge. It's oozing down the walls now, and onto the floor. I'm afraid to look up at the ceiling again. Jeice reaches over and starts to rub the putrid substance into my face and chest and over my legs, smearing it around on my bare skin like it's face paint. Against my will I look up at the ceiling again. That's when I see why it's moving. It's covered in bugs. Worms, centipedes, spiders, slugs, thousands and thousands of them. Their bodies are a writhing mass, pulsating against one another, twisting and snaking around and over each other. Many of them are being pushed against by others until their bodies burst. It's their innards that are leaking from the ceiling, down the walls, onto us, onto everything. To my horror, Jeice keeps spreading the bug entrails over my skin with his hand. He leans in closer. 'It's OK, you can do it to me too,' he whispers hoarsely. I'm not sure whether he's talking about rubbing the liquid over him, or moving my hand between his legs the way he's doing to me with his other hand...*

Vegeta's eyes flew open and he sat bolt upright, threw the covers back and ran to the bathroom, clapping a hand over his mouth. This startled Bulma, who had been woken a little while before by the sound of his breathing which had been getting heavier and faster, signaling that he was dreaming again.
She got up to follow him, beginning to panic when she heard him being sick.

'Vegeta are you OK in there? ' She called out nervously from the other side of the bathroom door. He didn't reply, just kept throwing up from the sounds of it. Then there was quiet.

'Can... can I come in?'

'Go away.'

'But you're sick, I just want to-'
'*Just go away*, I mean it woman,' he warned.

'Stop telling me to go away! I just want to know what's wrong,' she pleaded with him.

'Do you have to know everything all the time! Fucking hell! Just leave it alone!' He shouted back at her through the door.

'BUT I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!' She was shouting as well now. 'You never tell me anything!You've been here with me twenty years Vegeta! Twenty years is a long fucking time and you still don't trust me! When are you going to grow up and get past all this?! Just answer me that if you won't say anything else.'

No answer came.

'That's it. This is my house, my fucking bathroom, and I'm coming in there whether you like it or-' she stopped mid sentence as she opened the door to find the room completely empty. The window was open and the curtain was billowing in the cold wind that quickly rushed in, sending a chill down her spine. She let her body slide down the wall and come to rest in a heap on the cold tiles, her senses gradually going numb to the cold as she wondered why it was that her mouth always got the better of her.



wings that will never soar, for what they're made for(so tell me)Why we wingless angels fallWe'll die if our wings don't grow at all...
-ten years

If you thought for a little while there that things were going to look up for Vegeta, you were sorely mistaken *evil grin*. What is really wrong with Vegeta, and will he be able to control it before he loses his mind to memories and dreams? Can the mysterious doctor help him, or is he part of the problem?

Hope you liked it and please let me know what you thought :) Some things I'm particularly curious about are whether people find the childhood scenes and dream sequences interesting/disturbing/etc.