Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Mine ❯ Aftercare ( Chapter 4 )

Aftercare

For once in a long while I awoke without pain. No pain I was aware of, that is… I suspected the moment I tried to move, some quarrelsome torn muscle or fractured bone would make itself known. I realized I was floating in liquid that was neither warm nor cool, and the seal of a breathing mask nestled over the bridge of my nose and under my chin. A regen tank, then. I took a cautious deep breath - my ribs ached. Quite obviously I wasn't healed. So why was I awake? Instinctively my nose flared to catch any scent, but of course all I could smell was processed air.

I could hear something, however… voices filtered through the reinforced glass, vibrations carried to my ears by the nanite-infused nutrient bath. I concentrated on them; they faded in and out at first, but became clearer, as if approaching the chamber.

"…. is he?"

"….. be a while yet… damage… quite extensive. Frankly… battle injuries, he should have come straight here when he arrived."

"If I want… opinion… cycle and mates, I'll beat it out of you."

"… sir. Sorry sir."

I opened my eyes against the viscous green liquid, focusing with difficulty on the figure outside. Technically, there were two figures, but the second was a cringing technician whose presence I barely registered long enough to dismiss. The first… an achingly familiar flame-crest of hair complimented white, red, gold and navy blue of royal armor. Vegeta. He actually cared enough to come here, to check up on me. Undoubtedly I wasn't even supposed to know - I shouldn't be conscious right now, and surely he'd planned it that way - but something had tickled the edges of my senses, awakening me. Whether it was the one-sided claim or just me, I couldn't presume to know.

His gaze widened imperceptibly as it met mine; he knew I'd seen him here. But I still wasn't sure why. Did he feel guilty? Did he actually care that much about my welfare? Or was he simply following up out of duty, taking responsibility for his actions? Something guarded in his eyes told me he had more to hide than duty. That may be how he'd explain it to himself, or to others if pressed, but if that was all there was to it, then nothing would be concealed. Fragile emotion hid behind the mask of those black orbs, though I'd never betray their secret existence.

Maybe I was a glutton for punishment, but I didn't blame him for what he'd done. I didn't fear him now, either, as perhaps he thought I would. Or even should. I was genuinely happy to see him, as I was always happy to see him, though my weary half-smile was hidden by the oxygen mask.

Without thinking, I flicked my tail in affection and greeting.

PAIN

Agony blinded me, a flurry of bubbles escaping the mask as I exhaled in shock. Fuck, I had completely forgotten! I tried to relax my body, knowing any extra movement would only make things worse, but my head ducked as I instinctively curled inwards, seeking a protective fetal position. Tears stung my eyes only to merge with the healing fluid surrounding me before they could tarnish my cheeks. I couldn't even distinguish separate breaks - the whole bloody thing hurt like hell…

Stupid, stupid, stupid…

As the pain faded and I found myself able to gradually release the tension in my muscles, lassitude and exhaustion crept over me. That had been entirely too much; now my system demanded a healing sleep, protecting my conscious mind from the pain that had just wracked my being. But my tired eyes blinked open one last time, and I found Vegeta's palm pressed against the glass, face close, brow furrowed in an expression I couldn't quite interpret…

"Rest now. You've earned it."

I could not describe how beautiful those words were to me.

I slept.

**

The nutritive gel flowed away from my body, leaving behind a damp sheen that would dry within half a minute of exposure to the air. I flexed sensuously, enjoying the hedonistic feeling of being healthy, rested, and uninjured in one's prime. It felt so good to be whole again! Especially the tail… curious, I cast a glance down to my leg, where sure enough a fresh scar joined my collection. Then… I put a hand to my low back tentatively. Ridges of smooth flesh under my fingertips and an intense shiver up my spine confirmed memory, that I'd been well and truly marked.

Deep in thought, I paid no heed to the sporadic medical bustle in the background as I dressed. It was hard not to be slightly morose about the whole situation… was I just a good fuck, to be used up and thrown away? Ordinarily I didn't mind that he often paid little heed to me outside of sex - I hardly asked for special treatment - but ordinarily I was able to serve him well… this time my last recollection was of ferocious punishment, and his brief visit a few days ago did little to soothe the gnawing doubt in my core.

There was a message on my scouter, heralded by an impatient blinking green light. I blinked as it scrolled across the screen, then replayed it just to be sure. Vegeta wanted me in his throne room as soon as I was able… I quelled the nervousness in my stomach. It was probably just instructions for the next planet assignment, or something. Never mind that such things didn't normally merit his attention…

The guards speckling strategic points along the entryway were well-trained and studious, but I detected a few speculative glances thrown my way. I didn't really care what they thought, although I did wonder what they'd heard. Most likely they were just surprised I was still alive. I kind of was, myself.

Vegeta was dismissing some officers as I entered; no sooner had I relaxed out of the respectful stance I assumed for them to pass me than Vegeta called me forward. I kneeled low at the end of the dais… I didn't know what to expect. Forever, it seemed, I'd done nothing but what was to please him. And this time, I'd failed. The fact that it was no fault of my own didn't really cross my mind, or even matter. I'd failed, and…

He bade me rise. When I looked at him… the delicate lines sheathed in proud, unshakable strength, that proud crest of hair… Kami, it was adoration at first sight again. So fucking gorgeous…

A smirk flitted over his face, and I tried to act composed, though I suspected it was a lost cause. "The recent… incident… was regrettable," he announced. I blinked. I… he wasn't apologizing… was he?! "While your performance on the front is exemplary, I believe you will serve the throne better by my side than at a distance… or in the tanks." I bit my lip. Undeniably true…

Wait. At… at his side? Please say I heard that right…

"Thus, I'm transferring you to the palace guard. Any… objections?" His lip quirked at the sentence - he knew very well I wouldn't have any! Of course, even if I did, it wouldn't have mattered much. He always got his way. The question was … a formality, if you could even call it that.

"Ah.. no. No sir." Yes, less of a formality, and more of a way to get me to tell him what he already knew.

"Good. Nappa will show you the ropes." I bowed, dismissed, as not a second later he turned to an officer begging his attention. "What?? What is it, Zorn, I'm not in the mood for any bullshit!" I nearly choked stifling a burst of laughter at his incongruous language. My… this was going to be an experience to write home about, figuratively speaking… because now my home was here.

**

Vegeta often kept me fairly close to the throne room, and I got pretty sharp at routines, attitudes, and… assorted sundry other things. I think Nappa was ready to eat his boot the day I pounced on a cleverly-disguised alien carrying a destabilizer knife. Even when wrapped, a Saiyajin tail displays language through fur bristling, tip twitching, tightening or loosening around the waist… a fake tail can't do that, even if you cover yourself with artificial scent and clever prosthetics. Naturally everyone suspected Frieza, but that was a matter for the interrogators. I never asked, it wasn't really my business.

Since I was away from the action, though, I had to arrange sparring time to keep my skills up. I certainly didn't mind; I got to know the rest of the guard, even if just in passing, in the case of one or two morose individuals not given to socialization. Personally, I soaked up palace life; the company did me good, as did constant proximity to Vegeta… I got to know his habits, moods, body language and scent variations even better. I saw my father more often as well… nothing's perfect I suppose.

Mind you, perfection falls short of what happened the next time he called me to service.