Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Lab Monkey ❯ Forgiveness ( Chapter 16 )

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ. I can't write a fight scene to save my life anyways.

Many rounds of thanks to my wonderful beta LisaB, who was quick to point out what was wrong with this chapter and wack me upside the head. Thanks so much. *wink*

Chapter Sixteen

Forgiveness

On the trip back to the ship, Bulma dipped in and out of consciousness. She was vaguely aware of being cradled against Vegeta's chest, and as much as she wanted to struggle away, she couldn't deny that just being in his arms eased her pain.

They entered her shadowy room, and in one smooth motion Vegeta laid her out on the bed, reaching for the ties of her clothing at the same time.

"Where are you hurt?" he growled as he dragged at her clothes roughly. Her weak hands tried to push him away, but he was unstoppable.

"My back," she whispered as she struggled to keep him from pulling her pants down her slender legs. His hands stilled on the buttons of her slacks and grasped her hips between his wide hands instead. He flipped her over onto her stomach, his strong fingers snapping the strays lacing her corset with ease.

He tore at the black leather, and Bulma hissed as it peeled away from the bite wound that was seeping with greenish puss. Vegeta's lips drew back from his fangs as he examined the ring of teeth marks that were surrounded by angry red streaks of infection.

"How did this happen?" Vegeta's first thought was that one of the soldiers down on the surface had tried to take a pre-dinner bite out of her, but he doubted they would have stopped at one.

"The trader," Bulma muttered, trying hard to remain awake as the darkness threatened to suffocate her again.

She heard Vegeta inhale sharply, and she felt his steel fingers wrap around her upper arm to flip her onto her back. She yelped in surprise, struggling to cover her exposed breasts as she looked up into Vegeta's furious features. Her plumb white flesh spilled over her arms and she was only successful in hiding her pink nipples, but Vegeta wasn't the least bit interested in her sudden state of undress.

"What?" he snarled. "You let an Arachnoid bite you?"

"I didn't let him do anything," she countered, her blue eyes sparkling unnaturally with fever.

He slashed his hand in the air above her face as if her comment was inconsequential. His lips peeled back even further, and Bulma could see his ivory fangs glistening in the starlight that filtered into her room from the line of port holes. Vegeta hadn't bothered to turn on any lights, but he didn't seem to be suffering from poor eyesight in the least.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he hissed.

Bulma blinked at him, for the first time in their unusual relationship she was truly confused.

"I didn't think you would care," she stuttered, watching him wide-eyed.

He opened his mouth as if he was going to speak, but then he stopped himself. He swiped his hand through his black mane, laying the hair back briefly before it sprang into place. He spun away, pausing, then made as if to turn back towards her, but he halted. He squared his shoulders and headed towards the door, his unreasonable anger tangible in the air.

"I don't," he spat as he strode from the room, the door sliding closed soundlessly in mockery of his violent fury.

Vegeta only made it two steps into the hall before stopping. His dark thoughts swirled around inside of him, churning below the skin and he struggled to make sense of them.

It was poison, but although deadly, Arachnoid bites were hardly ever fatal. The venom was slow moving and easily cured, but it had to be treated quickly, within forty-eight hours. He knew that there was a way to cure the poison after the first forty-eight hours of infection, but had never heard of it being done. Without the cure she would be dead within the week, her body rotting painfully around her until she begged for death. There was nothing that he could do about it.

Well, there was one thing he could do.

She was as good as dead. There was no point in prolonging it. He should go back into her quarters right now and finish the job. He could dispose of her body in the refuse and dump it with the rest of the space trash. He no longer needed her now that he had control of the ship. She was just an entertainment that could no longer fulfill her obligation.

Something animalistic seethed inside of him, primal in its very essence. He felt raging disappointment spill over into his soul as he realized that he had been cheated out of his revenge by fate. He had meant to possess her, to conquer her, to own her by the time they arrived at Namek. It was her punishment for locking him up like a rabid animal and now he would never have the pleasure of breaking her.

Along with his disappointment there was another emotion that he had rarely experienced in his thirty-odd years of life. Regret. He regretted that he would never get to feel her milky smooth skin under his palms or inhale the sweet scent of her silky hair.

A small voice cried out in the darkness that infested him. Mine, it screamed, echoing down the hollow corridors of his soul. When he had walked into the purger's camp, and he had seen her bound and gagged, intense rage had welled up inside of him. For all of his hate of her, for all of his bitterness, she was his. The thought of anyone else's hands on her, male or female, made him want to howl at the moon in fury. He owned her and no one would abuse her except for him. That same voice refused to believe that he had to let her go so soon, that she could escape him so easily.

He blinked, snapping out of his daze, frowning at his distraction. There was no reason for him to hesitate in killing her. He had intending on doing it later, after he had defeated Frieza, but there was nothing stopping him now. It was an unspoken promise between them, that she would die by his hand and no other. He would not cheat her by allowing some disease to ravish her fragile body.

It was better to put her out of her misery rather than listen to her pained moans for the next week. He doubted he would get anything done with her whimpering like a sick puppy.

He heard a thump from inside of her room that sounded suspiciously like a body hitting the floor. He sauntered back into her room, his black heart frozen and unfeeling. His eyes scraped over her bed, noticing with little concern that it was empty. He found her on the floor, half way to the bathroom, panting like a marathon runner. She hadn't been able to struggle back into her top so she lay on her stomach, the gleaming white skin of her back contrasting sharply with the shadows in the room. She looked up at him, her blue hair straggling down in limp strands around her paler than normal face.

"Water," she whispered through cracked lips, and Vegeta knew that she must be burning from fever.

Vegeta refused to acknowledge her. She had already become a corpse to him, and he would not see her any other way. To do so would be useless. Images of her moaning beneath him, her body wrapped around his own rose up out of the darkness of his mind. He snuffed them out ruthlessly as he raised his hand, a small blue ball of ki forming in his palm. The shadows danced as the light flickered, but Bulma remained unmoving at his feet.

Her bright sapphire eyes never left his heartless gaze as she parted her lips to speak.

"At least she got a kiss," Bulma whispered, no fear evident in her tone or beautiful countenance.

Vegeta blinked, a deep frown forming on his smooth brow. "What?"

"Tamin. She was your lover right?" Bulma's innocent question brought a flood of memories to Vegeta. He had bedded Tamin for a week more than two years ago. She had been strong and he had enjoyed her company, but Vegeta never kept a woman much longer than that. He didn't want to risk any sort of affection springing up. After witnessing the scene between the two women earlier, he surmised that a week had been too long.

"What about her?" Vegeta snarled, utterly dumbfounded by the woman's logic. Here he was, ready to send her to the next dimension, and she wanted to talk about his past relationships!

"You killed her too." Bulma's voice broke with sadness.

"That was different." Vegeta shifted uncomfortably, uncertain why he was having this conversation with a corpse. He should get on with it and kill her.

"How so?" Bulma choked out, a single tear sliding down her alabaster cheek.

Vegeta watched the tear slide off the delicate point of her chin before answering her. "It just is."

"Did you love her?"

"No!" Vegeta barked out with suppressed rage, the ki ball in his hand becoming brighter with his emotions.

"But you kissed her," Bulma accused and Vegeta felt himself flush.

"She kissed me," he denied.

"Will you kiss me?" Bulma's abrupt change from sharp accusation to soft pleading stunned Vegeta. He looked down at her crumpled body and suddenly he couldn't see the living corpse that he had come to kill, but the woman he wanted in his arms. He was reminded of his dark promise to feel her writhing underneath him before he took her life, to feel her surround him intimately at least once before their eternal parting.

She held one hand out to him, and he found himself extinguishing his ki to reach for her. He bent down, scooping her up off the floor so she was cradled against his chest. He wrapped his muscle laden forearm around her lower back, careful to avoid her wound, his other hand instinctively cupping her rounded bottom to steady her. She fitted easily against him, as if she was created just for him. Her soft breasts flattened against his sculpted torso and through his thin shirt he could feel her blistering heat. She didn't have the strength to hold her head up and it lolled back, her long aqua hair trailing towards the ground.

Vegeta lowered his mouth towards her upturned features; his dark eyes watching the starlight filter across her face. Her mouth parted and although he wasn't touching her yet he could feel the heat of her fever against his lips.

"I think a small part of me always wanted you to touch me. Even when you were trying to kill everyone I loved. Through the crystal ball I watched only you and no one else. Do you think I will go for hell for that?" Her blue eyes glittered and another tear formed on her cheek.

"If you do, then there certainly is no hope for me." Absently he wiped the tear away with his thumb.

With the last of her strength her eyes drifted closed as she lifted her red lips up to his, silently begging for her goodbye kiss. She looked so innocent, purity embodied in a woman that was willing to taint herself for one kiss from a monster---for one taste of the forbidden fruit.

Vegeta lowered his head, brushing his cheek against her much softer one. He heard her rattling breath whisper past his ear as her lungs labored for air. He inhaled deeply, smelling the scent of dried blood and sweat on her skin. Past the acidic odor of death he could taste her essence on his senses, the scent of sunshine and flowers, of joy and laughter, of things he had never seen. He squeezed his eyes shut, blocking the image of the woman from his gaze, but that was the only one sense out of five. He could still smell her, feel her, hear her and if he opened his mouth just a fraction he would be able to taste her.

A loud growl of longing rumbled in his chest, and he didn't see as Bulma slit her eyes to peer up at him from under heavy lashes.

"This is the last time woman. I won't save you anymore."

Vegeta easily hefted her up, letting her fly though the air until she landed on the bed again. She moaned in agony as she hit the pillows, and when she uncurled from her painful fetal position Vegeta was no longer in the room, but she was still alive.

Back in the control room, Vegeta changed course for a research facility that was only an hour's flight away. He had taken a Sanchurian survivor there once, years ago at Frieza's request. As the last of his race, he was of great interest to the scientists there, who did experiments on different species. The Sanchurian had begged repeatedly for Vegeta just to kill him and save him from the torment that they both knew that he would endure. In the end the prince had torn out the man's tongue to silence him.

Vegeta was fairly certain that the scientists at the facility would have no idea that Frieza was looking for him. As researchers, they had no interest in the military matters of the universe beyond developing biological weapons for their master. He might as well take a chance and drop the woman off there. It wasn't a hospital, but it should have doctors on staff. He would leave her there and continue on his way. It was the last thing he would ever do for the female. He swore to the heavens that it would be the last time he would save her.

Once they docked, Vegeta returned to Bulma's rooms, sighing when he saw that she was unconscious again. He wrapped her tightly in the blanket from her bed, gathering her up in his arms, careful to avoid her wound. He strode down the gangplank, his wary eyes examining the aliens that scurried around the dock.

Most were creatures that he had never seen before, and Vegeta had the unsettling knowledge that he would probably never find them outside of this facility. They were experimental hybrids, created by splicing together two or more different DNA strands. They were anomalies of the universe, scientific failures that were doomed to spend the rest of their cursed lives cleaning up after the sadistic bastards that had created them.

One such bubbly faced creature shuffled up to them, motioning that Vegeta should follow him out of the docking bay and into a corridor. Vegeta silently trailed behind the abomination, his disgust at the creature's deformed frame locked behind an impenetrable mask of carefully tailored disinterest.

They winded their way through the bowels of the facility, using a network of passages and the occasion lift. As they descended, Vegeta was silently thankful that the woman was unconscious. He knew that she would never condone the suffering that was put on display here. They passed various holding cells, and the creatures that pressed themselves against the bars looked tortured and broken. Vegeta knew that they suffered through horrors that even he couldn't imagine. For all the torment that he had experienced in his life under Frieza, he was grateful that he was a valuable warrior. If he wasn't, then he would have been condemned to this same fate.

A figure slumped against the bars of its cell, and as Vegeta passed he felt a flicker of recognition. He couldn't be sure, but he thought that it may have been the same man that he had brought there all those years ago. The creature in the cell looked nothing like the Sanchurian, except for the eyes. Those eyes watched him pass, burning hate deep in their depths.

Unconsciously, Vegeta gripped Bulma closer to his chest, and she moaned in protest. He looked down at her countenance, flushed with fever, her usually lush lips pale and cracked.

Vegeta had been certain when he first met Bulma that she was out to kill him. He had convinced himself that she was no better than the scientists in Frieza's armies, pitiless and remorseless, experimenting at will on the helpless creatures brought to them. He had been shocked when she worked so hard to fix the glitch in his cage, quickly remedying the error, but he was still unconvinced that she didn't mean to kill him eventually.

She was a complete mystery to him. She had the opportunity to murder him in cold blood, and if that self-righteous, prick bastard Lee hadn't burst in she just might have. To save her world, her family, she would have gone against every moral fiber in her body. He witnessed the struggle inside of her and he had been awed by it. Never had he seen anyone hesitate to kill. It was the law of the land, the only way to survive.

He realized then that although she had him in her power, she would have never required him to kill for her like Frieza did. He was sure that it was something that never crossed her mind, and the idea would probably horrify her. Killing was something that he did, something he had been ordered to do since he was a cub. It came naturally to him, like any other predator. It had never once occurred to him that he didn't have to kill, that he could live a life where bloodying his hands wasn't a necessity.

Vegeta locked away his provoking thoughts as they reached the examination room. The shuffling creature showed him inside, and a doctor turned to greet him. Vegeta kept his features impassive as he explained the situation to the squat male with purplish skin. He laid Bulma out on the table, watching carefully as the doctor examined the wound and took her vitals. His unforgiving eyes narrowed when he saw the bruises on her back from the pounding Tamin had given her, and he was struck by how fragile the woman was. She was physically weak, but she fought with the ferocity of a lioness, protecting herself with the only weapons available to her---nails, teeth and that wicked tongue of hers.

A few minutes later he was forced to remember the oath he swore on the ship as he stared at the doctor who was explaining to him the severity of Bulma's condition.

"So you see, in order to cure her, we need the venom sac from the exact same Arachnoid that bit her. The fascinating thing about that species is that every one of them is unique when it comes to their venom production. Unless you are vaccinated in the first forty-eight hours it's nearly impossible to cure the victim. You have five more days to find the creature that bit her or she will die. Will you be able to do that?"

"No" was Vegeta's clipped reply. Not that he couldn't get back to the planet where he tried to sell Bulma for food and return in five days; he could. The ship that she had built was incredibly sleek and powerful; if he pushed it to the limit he could probably complete the mission in four days, but there was no way that he was going to do it. Absolutely, positively not.

"Oh good," the doctor chortled and Vegeta blinked. "I haven't seen a specimen like this one before. It will be a treat to dissect her."

There was a choked whimper from the bed, but Vegeta refused to look at Bulma, who was just now breaching the surface of consciousness.

Vegeta's stomach clenched when he thought of the cages he had passed. "Whatever," he replied stoically.

"Excellent. She doesn't seem very strong, but I think I can take her DNA for her unusual coloring and mold it together with a Nubarian. In a couple weeks I should be able to grow several hybrids that will turn out beautifully." The doctor moved over to the table to pick up a lank of her blue hair. Her large blue eyes looked up at him before darting over to Vegeta.

"Soon, my dear, your DNA is going to be sold for top dollar on the market. Everyone loves beautiful females. Isn't that right, Prince Vegeta?" The doctor rubbed his hands together as he envisioned the profit that he would make.

Vegeta remained silent as he held Bulma's gaze. The doctor scuttled out of the room, already tallying his money.

"I won't do it," Vegeta growled as soon as the door shut, his eyes never leaving Bulma's. She didn't respond, and he continued with his tirade.

"I have already wasted enough time tracking your weak ass down. I don't have time for this. I have to get to Namek. I have to get the Dragon Balls. I have to become immortal!" He spat the last part vehemently. Still Bulma didn't reply, her blue eyes too large for her face as she watched him.

"You're just slowing me down. I don't need you and I sure as hell don't want you." The last part was screamed at himself as much as it was at her.

His lips curled back into a snarl as he realized that he was trying to defend himself to this small, fragile female who was doing nothing more than staring at him silently. He did not feel guilty, he told himself. He didn't even know what the word meant. He refused to relent. Breaking her visual hold on him, he spun on his heel and strode towards the door.

As he reached the exit she finally spoke. "It's okay Vegeta. If it's true what everyone says about Frieza then I understand your desire to kill him. Someone has to stop him. He's a horrible monster and you have a destiny to fulfill.

Vegeta's shoulders stiffened and all of his inner voices gasped in unison. She understood him. His destiny. She pegged it right on the mark.

"I know you wouldn't leave me if you didn't have to. Don't worry, I forgive you." Her soft voice lilted around him, nearly deafening him like an unexpected blow.

He didn't look back as he continued through the door, hearing it hiss closed behind him. He never broke his stride as he crossed the corridor to the far wall, bracing his hands, before he slammed his face full force into the steel buttress. To his left, a scientist squawked, dropping his papers on the ground as he looked on, wide eyed. Vegeta lifted his head from the dented surface and slammed into it again. The scientist turned heel and fled, certain that one of the more violent specimens had gotten free from its cage.

She forgave him. What right did she have to go and do that? What the fuck was the universe coming to when someone like her would forgive someone like him? Did she even know what she was saying? Goddamn woman was going to be the death of him.

Damn.

She forgave him.

Who did she think she was? Pretending to understand him. Spouting words like destiny and desire. What makes her think that he wouldn't leave her under different circumstances? She was just some fluff of a female he had brought along to entertain him during the long journey, a way to vent his frustrations after being locked up for so long. All he wanted was to get between her legs before he strangled the life from her, nothing more. She was a whore and he was going to use her as such.

Shit.

She forgave him.

Vegeta hauled his face out of the dent, turning on his heel to search out the doctor and tell him that he would be back in four days with the Arachnoid in tow. He swore to the gods that he was going to kill that woman some day. How laughably pathetic that it wasn't going to be today.

Sonofabitch, she forgave him. What a fucking cosmic joke.