Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Machina (Rewrite) ❯ How he escaped and met the girl ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

By: Kichi

Vegeta lands on Earth after escaping Frieza. He is immediatly attacked by the androids and wakes to find himself in Bulma's care

Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Hentai / Post-apocalyptic / Psychological / Romance / Angst | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 03.19.2007 | Pages: 10 | Words: 11.0K | Visits: 1.0K | Status: Work In Progress

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TITLE: Machina (rewrite) 
AUTHOR: Kichi 
PAIRING (if applicable): B/V 
RATING: M 
WARNINGS: sex, violence, death, gore,
implied rape 
NOTES: implied rape in this chapter
(not descriptive) 
ARCHIVE:
www.geocities.com/kichisama666/index.html 
SUMMARY: I was not satisfied with how
my first attempt at this story was coming along so I started over..
Vegeta comes to Earth years after the androids destroy
everything.  Bulma saves his life after 17 and 18 beat him nearly
to death.. 
DISCLAIMER: Dragonball Z and it’s
characters belong to Akira Toriyama and are being used without
permission for non profit 
 
 
 
 
Chapter 1 - How he escaped and met
the girl 
 
    If there was ever
a time to escape it was then.  His heart racing, he ran to his pod
and jettisoned, and he wouldn’t be the last.  His “Lord and
Master” as the depraved fiend liked to call himself had begun to engage
his older brother in combat.  In terms of strength they were both
unsurpassed in the known galaxy.  Not an hour after he’d escaped
the brother’s ships and crew were destroyed as they attempted to best
each other. 
    He had never felt
such fear as he did when his eye lids began to grow heavy under the
influence of the gas installed in each pod.  He knew he might
never wake again.  If his master won his war against his elder
brother, he could easily catch up to Vegeta and incinerate his pod with
little effort.   
    His only hope lie
in the tiny, unregistered planet that Radditz and Nappa had gone
to.  Radditz left in search of his brother two years gone and
Nappa a year earlier to find Radditz.  Both had mentioned
something strange that had caught Vegeta’s attention.  Vegeta
alone knew of the legend and as their scouters were one their own
separate channel (when Vegeta could tune them all to an unused
frequency) no one in Frieza’s army knew what happened to the older
Saiyans, where they had gone, or what they went in search for. 
    Vegeta did not
care to find Kakarotto.  He didn’t care if the youngest of the
four had killed his two retainers.  Only one thing mattered to
him.  He would make a wish- he could make a wish.  He wasn’t
sure what he would wish exactly but the outcome would mean Frieza’s
death and that was all that mattered. 
    It seemed moments
had passed before the crash landing began to wake him.  The gas
that began to fully rouse him set his adrenaline racing as it was
designed to do and his heart began to pound as he lurched out of his
pod.  His scouter was set to find Kakarotto as he knew where to
seek the Dragon balls, and when functioning would have started beeping
the moment he tapped the button on the side. 
    Nothing happened. 
    With a snarl, he
tore it off the side of his face and examined it closely. 
Everything was functioning.  So why, then, had Kakarotto not shown
up?  And where were the gross amounts of ningen that occupied the
small planet?  He knew one way to draw out the soft-headed
fool.  If he started blowing things up the Earth-raised Saiyan was
bound to show up. 
    “Well, well,
well.  Look what we have here sister.  Another monkey to play
with.” Vegeta gasped and spun around.  His scouter was definitely
broken to not have picked up two humans so close.  He raised his
hand and sent a blast at a slim, dark-haired youth.  His eyes
widened when the young man slapped it away with a smile and no real
visible effort. 
    “Apparently he’s
as weak as the rest of them.”  A feminine voice replied behind
him.  He turned his head to the side to see a young woman who
looked very similar to the young man, but with pale yellow hair instead
of black. 
    “But still, he’s
much stronger than a human.” The young man said.  Vegeta snarled,
craving bloodshed and fired upon them both.  Blast after blast
turned the surrounding area a bluish white as his power released. 
But when he stopped he was shocked to see the two still standing in the
same place, looking as when they’d first appeared.   
    “He looks
confused, brother.  Shall we enlighten him?” 
    “Of course my dear
sister.”   
 
 
    The agony of
seeing her life crumble in front of her had not destroyed her, nor the
deaths of her friends and loved ones.  It had hurt terribly, of
course.  And there had been times when lying down and dying had
seemed all too appealing.  But she had survived it all and come
out stronger.  She always did.   
    But the loneliness
got to her occasionally.  Sometimes she would sit and weep in
helpless frustration and utter abandonment.  There was no one to
confide in, no one to hold her when she was scared or sad.  
There was no one to argue with or chat about meaningless
trivialities.    
    It was becoming
unbearable.  Nothing else had conquered her.  Pain, fear,
uncertainty, she had risen from the brink time and again, but with no
one to turn to she was quickly finding herself hopeless.  Hatred
for the ones responsible began to seethe beneath the surface. 
Usually she could control her rage with the knowledge of it’s
futility.  But anger was easier to deal with than the aching
sadness that had begun to pervade throughout her entire soul.   
    Whenever refugees
came to the remains of Capsule Corp. She was always delighted to offer
anything she could if only they would stay awhile.  Then she could
speak to an actual person, not the four walls.  But they always
moved on.  They searched for warmer climate and easier
living.  She didn’t live very far North, but the winters could get
chilly, and those without homes much preferred the warmer climate- and
she didn’t blame them. 
    She had been
offered many opportunities to leave CC forever, but she’d never
had.  She couldn’t  totally say why.  Part of it was her
family, and the life she’d led before the Great Destruction.  Part
of it was the help she could and had given many refugees in need. 
But another part was simply fear. 
    She was afraid to
leave- because even though she could easily bring all her belongings
with her, it would never be the same. 
    She knew she
should leave and staying was only killing her inch by inch, but she had
tried to flee before, right after her parent’s death.  She had
learned a brutal lesson that day, it had sent her scurrying back home
to safety, never to leave again.  If she left she knew it would be
for good- there would be nothing to return to. 
    But she was
growing restless again.  The jouziningen had not been seen for
months and it seemed like a good time as any to make good her
escape.  But then the nightmares returned. 
    After Son Kun,
Yamcha, and Krillin’s death’s she had relived the episode over and over
in her dreams.  She often woke screaming, in tears. 
Eventually the dreams came less frequently, but as of late they’d
returned.  And while they were less painful, they still disturbed
and frightened her.   
    She began to build
weapons.  She had begun when the androids had first arrived but
after everyone had been killed she no longer cared if they came to
finish her off as well.  Her anger overrode the apathy after
awhile and she continued her work.  She gave her creations away to
anyone with the desire to wield them.      Her life
was beginning to be fueled by hate, it should have bothered her more. 
 
 
    He didn’t see them
coming.  But he felt the blows they rained upon him.  In
seconds they had snapped his left arm like a twig, dislocated his
shoulder, broke his collarbone and several ribs, and only a minute
after they had begun to attack him, he began to choke on his own blood.
  
    His mind was numb
with shock and pain.  Each breath was agony, and his surroundings
were growing dim. 
    “On second
thought, he wasn’t much fun.” He dimly heard one of them say.  He
felt a foot stomp on his tail and a gasp escaped him before he could
stop it.  It proved the final straw and his mind went black. 
     
 
    Pain awoke
him.  Pain and soft hands.  He opened his eyes and saw that
it was night.  He heard a females voice but he hadn’t the time to
learn anything other than English and couldn’t understand what she was
saying.   Or perhaps he had suffered brain damage, his head
certainly ached enough.   
    “I can only speak
English.” he said, his voice hoarse from disuse, but otherwise flawless
in pronunciation and near perfect accent. 
    “Oh, I speak
English.” She said, her accent heavy, but she spoke the language
properly and he understood her well.  “I was just expressing my
amazement that you’ve woken up.  But I guess I shouldn’t have been
surprised, I had a friend like you once- he had a tail and healed
really fast.”  His eyes widened in surprise.  Had she just
described the lost brother of Radditz?  But it didn’t
matter.  He’d had one goal on reaching this planet- that goal had
not change, it had only been complicated. “I thought I was going to
lose you at first- those goddamned androids-“ she began, her cheeks
growing pink as rage filled her.   
    “Androids?” he
murmured, his brow wrinkled in confusion.  He knew the word- knew
what it meant- had himself in fact destroyed many.  But that made
it even more confusing that two had the strength to subdue him- hurt
him even.  It had never happened before. She began to explain
until he shook his head in negation- he knew what they were- he didn’t
need anything from her.  Yet she did not leave.  He could
almost feel her thoughts- it would be easy if he tried, but at the
moment his only desire was to rest, and maybe eat.  The thoughts
and information began to filter in anyway, he’d always had the ability
to see and speak into other minds and receive their messages in
return.  All of his ill-fated race had been equipped with the
ability from birth.   
    Sometimes, he was
unable to block the thoughts out.  Most were not as sensitive as
he was.  Most could refuse to hear anything whenever they
chose.  He had tried over the years to block the  vague
impressions and outright flashes of burning rage or hate or fear from
others.  He was never really successful.  Peoples thoughts
had directed his dreams at night sending him to places he’d never been,
having him talk to the living and dead he’d never met.  It was
maddening at times. 
    He lay there,
wrapped in pain, tortured by it, and her thoughts began to bombard him. 
    She was not afraid
of him, he noticed that right away, only terribly lonely.  She had
prayed for someone to come and end her isolation, even if that someone
was death.  Revenge preyed on her mind for those that had hurt
him.  They had slaughtered everyone she’d known and come to care
for.  She hated them with a single-mindedness that he recognized
in himself.  That he was awake and speaking filled her with joy
and relief.  She was as young for her kind as he was for his, and
he realized she found him very desirable and attractive even as he
tried not to draw in anything more about her.  He would never
forgive this intrusion by anyone else.  Yet he couldn’t really
stop himself.  He would not admit that he found her blue eyes
shockingly beautiful.  Her face flawless and lovely, her skin
looked incredibly soft and smooth.  Her blue hair was odd, but he
realized he did not find it unsuitable for her.  She was small and
luscious with beautifully shaped breasts, hips, arms and legs. 
And her cute little behind as she left to get him food, he felt his
head swim suddenly.  Exhaustion swept over him as the door shut
behind her.  He really was a wreck.  He was stitched and
bandaged up.  She had done the best she could, he saw this in her
mind.  She had prayed to gods she almost hated for his life. 
Thoughts still came to him as she went to get him something to
eat.  They would undoubtedly filter into his dreams as well. 
    He had to get away
as soon as he could, but a part of him already wanted to stay. 
 
     
    He spoke English
perfectly, as if he’d been born in America.  But she knew he was
not human.  The tail- it was the same as Goku’s.  It was the
same as the two men who’d come to take Goku away. 
    “Vegeta.” he’d
said when she asked him his name.  His eyes were the darkest brown
she’d ever seen, they looked black sometimes.  His hair was wild
and spiky.  But nothing like the disheveled mane the other one had
possessed.  Bruises still peppered his torso, back, arms, and
legs, and the lump on the back of his head was still there, though
significantly smaller.  He had stopped coughing up blood a few
days before he woke.  His tail was still broken, but it seemed to
be mending incredibly quickly, as were his left arm, collar bone, and
ribs.   
    He frequently
moved and talked in his sleep, she’d sworn to the gods she’d heard him
say: “Shut up, Bulma.” as he lay, comatose.  But he hadn’t even
known her name yet.  He’d been unconscious since she found
him.  She’d had to have heard him wrong.  He had to have said
something else, but part of her swore he’d said it.  Goku had
always had an odd ability to know when she was upset and to know
exactly how to comfort her.  It was part of the reason she’d loved
him so much.  It was so uncharacteristic of any male she’d ever
known- her father included- that she always suspected it was part of
what made him different.  Like his insane strength, his tail, the
horrifying transformations..  But she loved him for it.  When
she had cried he had been so tender with her it nearly broke her
heart.  When she was wrong and was stubbornly refusing it, he
always knew- but never hurt her when he rebuked her.  He was
always loving, always kind.  There were many similarities in his
and Vegeta’s appearance- tail not included.  Their muscles were
like stone beneath their smooth skin.  Their eyes were that same
color, only Goku’s were just a bit warmer and lighter.  They both
had those thick, jagged locks that defied gravity, and slightly sharp
canines.  Just a little too long and sharp for a human.  Body
hair was pale and fine like a child’s.  Both were warm beyond
reason, like a furnace burned within them at all times.   
    But she could
already sense that all the similarities were physical and ended
there.  Vegeta gazed at her as if she were a ghost at first- as if
he’d never expected to see her.  She could tell he was in pain,
though he was frighteningly good at hiding the fact.  But she had
seen it too much over the years to be deceived.  She had an
astonishing storage of food still.  Even if he ate as much as Goku
she could feed them for at least three months.  He would be fully
healed in about two weeks at the most she imagined.  Then they
could decide to do from there.  His ship was destroyed there would
be no way off the planet for him.  But he was free to leave her as
he would like.  The thought filled her with a crushing
grief.  She’d only spoken to him for moments, but she knew that if
he left her now she would utterly shatter.  She could no longer
endure her loneliness.  She would do anything to keep it at
bay.  And he was amazingly beautiful to her.  It was easy to
imagine clinging to his side forever.  For surely he would not
care for her plight or her need. All she would be was a thorn in his
side refusing to come free.   
    The first emotion
she’d recognized in his eyes was wariness, mistrust, and even fear as
the pain gripped him and he realized he was at her mercy.  She
hated it.  She didn’t want him to feel that way for her.  She
knew her painful need was drawing these conclusions from her and
driving this incredible ache inside her to find someone- anyone to
cling to.  She knew it.  But she could not more stop it than
she could force herself to stop breathing- for surely she would have
done so if she could long, long ago.  She had never imagined
herself capable of enduring such misery.  She was truly
strong.  But her strength was fading.  She needed someone-
anyone!  She was all a greedy bundle of want and need and hope and
despair.   
    She hated
it.  How she despised her weakness.  She could do nothing to
change her heart though.   
 
    He was falling
asleep when she returned.  The scent of food roused him further
and his stomach began to whine in anticipation.  He devoured
everything she set before him and then promptly fell asleep without a
word.  It unnerved and saddened her.   
 
    The next morning
she caught him out of bed, wandering through the house, picking up
everything he could hold in one hand and inspecting it.  Alarm
raced through her and his eyes met hers, his dark, heavy brown uplifted
in surprise.   
    “What are you
doing out of bed?” she cried and at once his face resumed it’s neutral
expression.   
    “You can see what
I am doing, can’t you?” he sneered, and she froze.  The unkind
tone immediately making her nervous.  And it seemed he instantly
realized it for he looked at her again and smirked softly and her tense
muscles instantly unwound.   
    “Yes, but your not
better yet-“ 
    ”I’m not dying.”
he cut her off. 
    “Anymore!” she
snapped.  The anger that had sprung onto her face at his
stubbornness was quickly subdued.  “I’m sorry-  I just worry.” 
    “I know.” he said,
and she didn’t dispute it.  Perhaps he did.  She asked him if
he was hungry and he nodded, still watching her as if her were unsure
of her motives.  In fact her thoughts were becoming increasingly
jumbled.  She went to the kitchen to cook and was pleasantly
surprised to hear him follow her.  She began their breakfast as he
poked the appliances. 
 
    He couldn’t stop
looking at her.  She had yet to noticed, but she might
eventually.  She often turned to look his way when she felt the
heat of his gaze.  He knew suddenly that he had but to ask her
anything and she would gladly comply.  His power over her was
becoming more apparent as the day progressed and she left his side only
out of physical necessity.  He couldn’t help but realize that she
was beginning to think on him in an erotic fashion.  The thoughts
plagued him.   
    She hadn’t lied
when she said he wasn’t completely healthy.  He had nearly been
overcome by a nauseating wave of vertigo and had been maneuvered onto
the sofa by her soft, gentle hands.  She ran her nimble fingers
through his hair as he lay gasping and sweating.  Her fear made
him afraid- a reaction which was completely unnerving in itself.   
    Soon he lay
quietly, dozing on and off, and she never left his side.  He was
oddly comforted by this.  He had never received such
attention.  It was utterly foreign and yet he was not averse to
it.  And her scent, he had not really noticed it until he was
immersed fully in it.  It was wonderful.  It calmed him in a
way that should have surprised him, but he was too dizzy and unfocused
to dwell on it for long.  He heard her humming softly, perhaps out
of boredom.  He wanted to tell her she could go- amuse herself
elsewhere.  He didn’t need her.  But when he opened his mouth
a contented sigh slipped out instead and he heard her laugh softly in
delight.  The fear had left her as he grew more relaxed.  He
heard a click and singing voices filled the room along with
music.  It was very quiet- so as not to bother him.  She
thought him already asleep.  He felt a warm and soft blanket cover
him and he sighed again, blissfully.  He had never felt this good,
even as he felt weary and sick.  He felt her small hand softly rub
his shoulder and back, and run through his violent locks of
ebony.  If his tail wasn’t maimed he knew it would be trying to
coil around her thigh.  He should have been more bothered by
it.  But he could only purr softly in pure enjoyment as she
innocently caressed him.  He realized she was gaining power over
him as well.  It should have alarmed him - but he didn’t even care. 
 
 
    His breathing had
evened out, he was definitely asleep.  She felt she might drop off
as well, but she was getting too cold for that.  The day had been
warm.  Wonderfully warm and inviting after the painfully cold
winter.  She had the West-facing windows open and she watched the
sun set as the breeze gently blew the curtains about.  It had been
a beautiful day.  The colors of the sky were a bright, yet subdued
orange, yellow, and blue.  The wind was growing cold.  She
rose from her spot on the sofa and closed the window and turned off the
music.  She listened to his soft, even breathing for awhile. 
She could definitely get used to having him around.  He was quiet,
a little more than she liked, but just his mere presence was helping
immensely.  He was aware of everything.  His almond shaped
eyes were constantly moving around the room.  She could tell he
hated being subjected to his care though he never said anything or
appeared unduly distressed.  In fact he had a curiously passive
expression.  As if the goings-on of the day-to-day world were
beneath his notice.  And maybe it was.  She knew nothing
about him.  He could have been a prince or a pauper where he came
from.  She knew nothing.  But somehow, his bearing told her
that it wasn’t likely that he belonged to the lower classes.  He
knew English, and he had to have learned it before he came or on the
way somehow.  And he spoke it perfectly!  No, he had to have
a well-rounded education to absorb a language that quickly and
completely.  She wished he was awake suddenly, she wanted to speak
to him so badly.  But every time she opened her mouth he would
shoot a look at her that she was beginning to interpret as: “Not right
now.”  Every time she opened her mouth it seemed he was giving her
that look.   
    She decided to try
and draw him out of his shell a little more when he woke, anyway. 
She turned on the tv and set the volume low. 
      
          
 
    He woke feeling
more tired than when he’d gone to sleep and knew she had given him more
of the drugs that made the pain fade away.  She sat beside him,
completely asleep.  He shook his head as he sat up.  He
stretched, enjoying the feeling immensely.  He caught wisps of
fragments of her dreams.  It didn’t make any sense.  He tried
to block it and was successful.  It was a relief.  The drugs
had the additional effect of rendering him dreamless- or at least he
couldn’t remember a thing when he woke.  And that was fine with
him- they were nothing but a surreal parade of his fears, and of course
there were the dreams made from the thoughts of others.   
    She moaned softly,
drawing his attention back to her.  The sound sent a chill up his
spine.  He wanted suddenly to hear her moan in pleasure.  The
thought made him frown and study her closely.  She was
gorgeous.  He knew it.  He couldn’t lie about it to himself
or anyone.  He knew she craved his touch, even had he been able to
fully block her thoughts he would have known.  But the damn drugs!
They made him tired and uncoordinated.  He could hurt her like
that very easily.  It would be a poor way to repay her kindness. 
    He gently touched
the side of her face and she woke immediately, her eyes suddenly bleary
and confused. 
    “You should lie
down.” he murmured softly, he watched her as she stretched and
yawned.  She nodded and did just that, her legs sliding against
his thigh as she stretched out and claimed his spot.  She yawned
again and seemed to be falling right back asleep.  She shivered a
little and he covered her with the blanket she’d given him earlier.
  
    He stood and
wondered what he might do.  It was growing late.  The sky
outside was black, the room was only dimly lit.  His legs weren’t
broken.  He wanted to walk outside. 
    He opened the
glass sliding door in the dining room and shivered as a blast of cold
air hit him.  He hated the cold.  He absolutely loathed
it.  He had no desire to go out in the cold, but he still ached to
do something- anything.  His eyes went back to the girl lying on
the sofa.  It was true he was a very selfish person by his own
standards, but he couldn’t wake her just to amuse himself.. Could
he?  He could find something to do while she slept, couldn’t he? 
    He ate
first.  He searched the rest of the house afterwards. 
He  found books, but was disgusted that he couldn’t read
Japanese.  He flipped through the few with pictures- her mother
had loved photography.  He saw a lot of interesting and even
beautiful people and places.  It made him curious about the world
he found himself in.  He found two history books written in
English.  The histories of the Western and Eastern
civilizations.  He smiled faintly.  He was bored and unable
to do as he pleased.  It would distract him until he needed to
eat, or sleep, or the girl woke again.  He took them back to the
living room. 
     
     
    For three hours he
read, absorbing human’s prehistory.  It was almost as violent as
his own culture in some instances.  He was very amused.  He
could not imagine the girl trying to hurt even a tiny insect.  But
it didn’t mean the other human’s were like her.     
    Then his head
began to throb and he put the book away.  He returned to the
living room to see her still sleeping.  He wondered how much sleep
she required.  He sat opposite her on the other sofa, sinking into
the soft cushions.  A nap would make his head stop hurting. 
 
    He was asleep
sitting opposite her when she woke.  The position didn’t look very
comfortable, with his head resting on his shoulder.  His cheeks
were pink thought he was uncovered by blankets and the room was
slightly chilled when she lifted her blanket off.  She murmured
his name and his eyes wearily slid open.  She pressed her hand to
his forehead and he winced, trying to draw away further into the soft
cushions.  When she asked how he felt he said he was fine. 
She scowled and badgered him until he admitted his head hurt so bad he
was seeing double of her.  She immediately began to fuss over him,
forcing him to lie down properly and covering him with the blanket that
she had slept under all night.  She turned on the tv for him and
he stopped her from turning the volume up any more than it already
was.  He was lying there with his eyes closed, then rolled onto
his side and burrowed into the blankets more.  She went to make
some tea and soup. 
     
    He woke about an
hour later, his eyes squinted as if the dim light from the over-cast
sky was hurting them.  He groaned and covered his face and she
assumed his head still hurt.  She brought soup to him. 
    “Are you feeling
better at all?” she asked, her expression one of concern.   
    “Yes.” he snapped,
his eyes still shut. 
    “Your lying.” she
said.  “Let me give you something for the pain.” 
    “No!” he said, his
voice softer.  “I don’t need it, I don’t want it.”  She shook
her head, she couldn’t understand it.  “I’ve been in a lot more
pain that this, I’ll be fine!”  She still was not understanding.
  
    “But if you can
stop hurting sooner why wouldn’t you?” he sighed and ran his fingers
through his hair.   
    “It’s making me
sick!” he sighed.  “I don’t want anymore.” his face was sullen,
and he was surprised to feel shock coming from her.  They were
supposed to help him, not hurt him, but she began to apologize
profusely, swearing up and down she had only meant to help.  And
she meant it.  He felt himself relaxing.  Suddenly her whole
body gave a start and he glanced at her out of the corner of his
eye.  She had an idea.  But what it was he wasn’t sure, he
only saw a field full of flowers in her mind.  He frowned at his
lack of control and again forced her thoughts away. 
    “I’ll be back in
an hour or so.  Will you be alright until then?”   
    “Of course.” he
muttered, annoyed with himself and the pain which was moving to his
broken bones as well.  She hurriedly ran upstairs and returned
moments later with a few small capsules. 
    “Bye, Vegeta!” she
said with a sweet smile that left him breathless.  He watched her
walk out the door and then snuggled into the blanket that smelled like
her. 
 
    An hour passed and
she did not return.  He did not worry about it.  He was in
too much pain to really care about anything.  Then he noticed that
three hours had passed and he thought back through the slowly fading
haze that the drugs had slapped over his most recent memories. 
She had been gone too long, her scent was fading from the room which
for some odd reason made him anxious.  He staggered to his feet
and made his way to the window, each step jarring his shoulder and arm
painfully.  He had not had such trouble the night before but then
he remembered he refused the drugs she’d tried to give him.  The
pain-killers.  He cursed his pride for a moment.  He didn’t
see her anywhere outside.  He frowned and made his way to the
door.  Shockingly warm air hit him and he smiled before he could
stop himself.  It was such a relief after the cold he had felt the
night before.  He scanned the lawn and the surrounding area. 
He saw ruins in the distance.  She hadn’t gone there, had
she?  He had to find her, and quickly, he realized with a growing
sense of alarm.  He closed his eyes and began to search for
her.  She was close, very close indeed.  And she was
hurt.  Terribly hurt.  Her mind was in chaos, her thoughts
echoed his most painful moments. 
    I want to die.. She was thinking.  He followed her
agony like a beacon in the night.  She was still on the
grounds.  He saw a small building on the edge of the property
partially hidden by ragged trees and dense undergrowth. 
    She was
within.  Lying on a blood-stained mattress.  He felt his
heart constrict painfully.  He felt the world tilt back and
forth.  The poor, beautiful girl had been beaten, that much was
obvious.  He selfishly  didn’t want to know what else had
happened, but it was painfully clear as he drew closer and saw her
ripped panties lying on the floor.  And the blood on the sheet had
flown from between her legs and from tiny tears all over her creamy
flesh.  Bruises covered her.  Gods who had done this? He
would kill them!  He felt his chest heaving for air, he had to
calm down.  She was barely conscious, but she had heard him. 
She thought he was one of the men who had hurt her and tried to pretend
she was asleep.   
    “Why did I let you
leave?” he gasped before he could stop himself.  She tensed and
began to cry softly.  She couldn’t bear for him to see her like
this, he knew it as if she’d said it aloud.  But how could she
think he could leave her here?  He was shocked at the pain filling
him at the sight of her small, battered body.  But he couldn’t
make it go away.  He had to help her as she had helped him. 
And he had to find those who’d done it and kill them.  He 
scanned her mind furiously, before she blocked their faces from
memory.  Three of them, mad and brutal as he could be.  He
suddenly hated himself as their viciousness mirrored his actions many
times in his life.  For a moment he didn’t want to touch her,
afraid she would know just by his touch that he was no better than
those who had hurt her so badly.  She was shivering and crying,
she was bleeding still, and she hurt terribly.  He had to do
something. 
    “Bulma.” it was
the first time he’d said her name, and she responded.  She lifted
her head, and a black eye greeted him, his heart clenched again. 
“Come on.  He lifted her easily with his unbroken arm and she
wrapped her arms and legs around him.  She buried her face into
his neck and he could feel her hot tears rolling down his skin and her
small body quaking with her sobs.  He carried her inside, glad
he’d left the door wide open, and up into her room as she directed
him.  He went into her bathroom and set her on the toilet and
began to fill the tub with warm water.   
    She tried to stand
on her own power and climb into the tub, but her knees buckled before
she even reached full height.  He stopped her descent easily and
pulled her upright by her elbow.  She dared to look at him and
noticed he was pale and sweating.  She had gone to help him.. Now
he was struggling to help her.  She began to cry again, and to
apologize to him.  He was bewildered by this.  If anything he
felt he owed her apologies, for allowing this to come to pass.   
    “Just get
in.  I’m fine.” he argued.  She nodded obediently and climbed
into the warm, bubbly water, and removed the rest of her torn
clothing.  He slid down the wall, not looking at her, trying to
slow his breathing.  The pain was growing more intense.   
     
    She didn’t know
why it didn’t bother her that he was in the bathroom with her while she
sat in the tub soaking the blood and dirt away.  Possibly it was
because he had found her and helped her just as she had done for
him.  Maybe it was because she’d recognized fear and guilt in his
voice when he’d found her and she wanted to obey him completely if only
to assure him she would be alright in time. It was probably because as
soon as he’d helped her in the tub he had turned away and nearly
collapsed to the floor and was now panting for breath.   
    She couldn’t
afford to wallow in misery any more.  He needed to get back to
bed.  He needed to rest.  And so did she.  But she
couldn’t relax until she knew he would be ok.  She knew he was
suffering.  She was hurting too.  She just wanted to get back
to their large, over-stuffed couches and sleep the day away.  She
climbed to her feet, legs shaking wildly.  Where had her strength
gone?  Her body was nothing but pain in each step, but nothing was
broken.  Vegeta suddenly gasped and trembled.  She dried off
and wrapped a towel tightly around her. 
    “Vegeta, can you
get up?” she whispered softly as she knelt next to him.  He sat up
with a gasp, his eyes snapping open.  He gazed at her in
confusion, his eyes bright and cheeks unnaturally flushed.  She
reached out to feel his temperature and he recoiled.  “Your head,
still.” 
    “Everything!” he
blurted before he could stop himself.   
    “You have to get
up.  At least walk to the bed, I can’t carry you, please.” he
heard the desperation creeping into her voice.  He knew she wasn’t
lying. She was too hurt to even try to help him to his feet.  He
struggled up and stumbled out the door.  She led him to her bed
and forced him to sit.  He tried to protest, but she shook her
head.  “You need to rest and so do I.  And I know I will be
too afraid to sleep without you close by.” the last part she said very
quietly as if she hadn’t meant for him to hear, but he had and it
silenced any further protests.  He awkwardly fell onto the
impoosibly soft bed and was asleep within moments.  Bulma smiled
weakly before tears again blurred her vision.  She hastily dressed
in her softest night clothes and crawled into bed beside him. 
 
 
TBC...      
         

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