Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ MIRROR, MIRROR ❯ SHATTERED ( Chapter 2 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Darke Angelus 
Vegeta is visibly falling apart before Bulma's eyes. She, alone, holds the cure in her hand. Will she help him? Does she dare?
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 08.21.2006 | Updated On: 12.20.2006 | Pages: 6 | Words: 8.5K | Visits: 924 | Status: Completed
Vegeta is visibly falling apart before Bulma's eyes. She, alone, holds the cure in her hand. Will she help him? Does she dare?
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 08.21.2006 | Updated On: 12.20.2006 | Pages: 6 | Words: 8.5K | Visits: 924 | Status: Completed
Mirror, Mirror
(c) 2006 by Darke Angelus
Part 2 - Shattered
>>>>>>
After her terrifying discovery in Vegeta's bathroom, Bulma exited the foul quarters and raced down the corridor. Her mother had heard her daughter's shriek and looked up sharply when she came pounding quickly down the stairs. "Are you alright?" the blonde asked urgently. The younger woman's face was deathly pale.
"Where's Vegeta? Have you seen him?" Bulma panted.
"Well, not today-"
"Shit!"
"-But he has been going to visit Majin Buu quite a bit lately. Perhaps he's in the atrium-"
Running past her, Bulma raced down the myriad corridors and sprinted out into the spacious interior of the domed headquarters building. The large area was curiously empty and she went over to one of the groundskeepers, asking, "Where's Majin Buu?"
Leaning on his rake, the man tipped his hat back and smiled at her. "You husband has been taking him out sight-seeing this last week. Damnedest sight I ever saw-"
"Do you know where they went?"
"Well, it doesn't seem to be the same place twice but I could have sworn I heard them talking about going to the coast-"
Bulma started to turn away and looked back at the man. "Did you get a good look at Vegeta? Does he look okay?"
"Ms. Briefs, I try to avoid looking that guy in the face, no offense. The last time I did, he damn near chewed my head off-"
"Thanks!" she interrupted and dashed away.
It was such a long shot, she fretted as she piloted her hoverjet along the Pacific coastline beyond the Western Capital. She skimmed along the shore and first headed north but soon noticed that the areas were becoming more and more populated. Majin Buu was supposed to stay out of sight so she turned the small craft around and sped along the coast heading south. She zipped past the Capital, rivulets of nervous sweat trickling down the small of her back, and didn't keep her eye off of the rocky shoreline and beach. That was the reason she didn't get out of the way in time to avoid the body that came crashing in through her windshield.
>>>>>
Majin Buu was terribly upset but he didn't know how to express the emotion. The first time that Vegeta had come to visit him, he had been ecstatic for the company but by the end of the day, his cheer had diminished significantly. After six days, it had disappeared altogether.
True to his word, the Saiyan took him to places that he had never seen before but the entity had very little time to enjoy it. He quickly discovered that the first time: Vegeta had taken him to a desolate valley with statuesque buttes and he had started to ogle the surroundings only to have a boot slam up between his legs. He didn't have any genitalia to speak of, even his nerve bundles were desensitized to pain, so he just looked over his shoulder at Vegeta and politely inquired: "What you doing?"
"Dancing, you fat fuck!" Vegeta shouted and punched him so hard that his arm disappeared in Buu's pink bulk up to the elbow.
For the next few minutes, Buu tolerated being the sole target of the Saiyan's inexplicable rage. Most of the kicks and punches just tickled, and a few caused no more than a mild irritation. Throughout the attack, Vegeta didn't stop taunting him: "-useless piece of shit! Dumber than a dead cow! Uglier than a molting Kruc'T! Stupider than a-"
That alone started to anger Buu. Steam began filtering through the dorsal holes along the sides of his head and down both arms. When Vegeta phased in to land a punch guaranteed to shatter his breastbone (had he one), Buu caught the fist. "Why you do this? Why you anger Buu?" he asked in dismay.
"Because it's fun, dumbnuts," Vegeta said and spit in his face.
Buu's face scrunched up in anger and his mitten tightened around the Saiyan's hand with crushing force. With a cry of fury he kicked out and felt absolutely no joy as he watched the smaller man fly backwards a distance of over 40 feet to slam into a butte of hard granite. The mountain of rocks collapsed over the Saiyan and all was still for about ten seconds before he crawled out. The most amazing thing of all, he was grinning.
"That's more like it," Vegeta muttered to himself as he rubbed one shoulder.
"Buu sorry!" the pink entity called over to him, holding up his hands. "Buu no want fight!"
"Tough shit, because I do," was all that the alien would offer before attacking again.
Buu did not understand what was happening. He just defended himself against the irrational man as best he could but over time, the insults and taunts began to penetrate his confusion. Incited into a rage, with steam whistling through his holes, he responded to the attack at long last. Every punch, kick, and hit he delivered staggered the Saiyan; bruising skin and muscle, breaking skin and bone. Buu knew he was immortal, he knew he was indestructible, and sadly, he was also very stupid not to realize that Vegeta knew all of that as well-
-And that it was just what the Saiyan had been counting on.
For the last five days the pair battled; each keeping their ki auras low and not projecting any blasts that might attract unwanted attention (from civilians and, particularly, from the Z fighters). Each day lacked the severity of conflict of the day before; not because Buu was reining in his temper at being insulted (he was remarkably easy to goad), but because of Vegeta's steadily deteriorating state. By the sixth day the Saiyan was a wreck; barely able to stand, and it began to register even on Buu's dim intelligence that this whole warped scenario was very, very wrong.
He hesitated from delivering a kick that would have shattered the Saiyan's ribcage and stepped back, shaking his head back and forth like a bewildered child. "No. Nonono-"
"What's wrong? Too-" Vegeta paused to throw up a combination of blood and bile and then continued on as if nothing had happened, "-chickenshit to fight?"
"Buu fight no more!" the entity cried out.
"We'll stop fighting when I say so," the alien snarled, getting slowly to his feet. He fell to one knee with the first attempt, and finally made it up on the second. Barely. He wasn't able to straighten up and limped towards Buu with steady determination. He stared at the mystical creature through one good eye, the other was swollen shut, and blood was pouring from a crooked nose that had been broken three days before. "And I haven't said we're finished yet. I'd suggest you wrap that concept around your tiny, insignificant pea-sized brain. I'm the boss here. Got it?"
Buu wanted to take to the air and fly back to Capsule Corp. but he never paid attention to where he and Vegeta went and always got immediately lost. Humans weren't allowed to see him yet and his only tour-guide was trying to coax him into a fight. He just didn't know what to do. "Buu no hurt NO MORE!" he shouted back.
Vegeta's right eye widened in surprise. "You stupid sack of shit! You're too dumb to have a backbone! You were created to obey and I'm ordering you to fight me!" He moved in like a flash, delivering a punch that actually knocked the bewildered entity off of his feet.
Gritting his teeth, Buu flailed his head tentacle around and clipped the Saiyan across the face, driving him back down to his knees. He was trembling with repressed rage and just as he began to advance on the ailing Saiyan, his arcane senses picked up a familiar presence rapidly approaching. His eyes, narrowed to a spiteful squint, popped open in relief. "Friend is coming. Buu take you to friend!"
Cradling his jaw, Vegeta sneered at the creature with open contempt. "I'm not going anywhere," he slurred through a mouthful of blood.
"Fine!" Buu said, racing towards him, "Then Buu send you to her!" He picked up the wounded Saiyan like a rag and swung him around in a wide arc, throwing him into the sky. Vegeta's outraged bellow didn't end until he smashed through the cockpit window of Bulma's hoverjet.
>>>>>
"Ohmigod- VEGETA!" she shrieked, barely having the wits to set the small craft on autopilot before rushing to the back of the cabin where the Saiyan had collided with the storage cabinet. He was out cold and unresponsive and she felt for a pulse along his swollen jaw line. Her trembling fingers eventually found a heartbeat but it seemed alarmingly weak. She was scared to move him but the lay of his body seemed unnatural. When she tried to shift the position of his legs, he released a cry of pain and began coughing up great gouts of blood, so much so that she rolled him onto his side so that he wouldn't choke to death.
Blood...Oh god, there was so much blood! She thought numbly, watching the stain beneath her husband spread out along the carpet in a widening pool. She rushed back to the cockpit and saw a sight that immediately enraged her.
"What did you do to him, you monster!?" she screamed at Buu, who was sheepishly peering in at her from the shattered windshield. "He's dying! What the hell is wrong with you!"
Buu's mittened hands wrung together in anguish as he stammered over a reply. At the sight of Bulma's rage, he did what most super powered beings did when exposed to that force of nature:
He burst into tears.
>>>>>
Twelve hours later, Bulma was sitting beside Vegeta's hospital bed waiting for him to wake up. It was an eerie sense of déjà vu, reminding her of the first (but certainly not the last) time she had made this vigil; back when they had been little more than acquaintances and he had been recovering from the gravity simulator explosion. The state that he was now in made that event look like a minor incident. Just at first glance, she knew that his wounds would be too much for the Capsule Corporation infirmary to handle and she had called ahead to the Capital General Hospital. There had been emergency staff waiting for her when she had landed on the roof of the building.
"Mrs. Briefs! What happened to him?" the doctor asked her as they quickly wheeled the stretcher into the elevator. Vegeta was still unconscious and unresponsive to the nurses' and interns' efforts.
"Car-car accident," was all she could manage to get out, trailing along after the harried medical team like a woman caught in the grips of her worst nightmare.
She was holding the doctor's report in her hands now, practically committing every injury to memory:
-multiple concussions, detached retina, broken nose, broken jaw, two crushed vertebrae, one slipped disk, five fractured ribs, a perforated lung, ruptured spleen, two bruised kidneys, one broken collarbone, one dislocated shoulder, broken pelvis, wrenched knee, sprained ankle-
"Oh God," she moaned, forcing her eyes away from the paper and struggling with an onset of nausea. She put her face in her hands until the feeling passed and then looked over at the sight of Vegeta's bandaged arms. It had taken over sixty-eight stitches to close the deepest of the criss-crossed gashes covering his fingers, hands and forearms. From what she could gather from the Room of Horrors his bathroom had become, he had been taking pieces of the broken mirror and cutting himself with the glass. In several spots, it looked like he had even begun flaying off his own skin. The damage had been hidden by his usual elbow-length gloves and some of the older gouges had started to become infected with neglect.
Bulma knew that the Saiyan had a penchant towards injuring himself in training but this was on a whole different, disturbing level. This was just mindless, self-inflicted torture. He hadn't been trying to slit his wrists; according to the doctor assigned to his care, he had deliberately missed the veins, so it wasn't a suicide attempt. She just couldn't wrap her brain around Vegeta's state of mind to want to subject himself to such agony.
She couldn't even entirely blame Majin Buu for all of this, either. On the frantic trip back to Capsule Corporation, she had learned that the Saiyan had deliberately goaded the entity into attacking him. He had even told Buu that if he told anyone about what they were doing, particularly to her, he would find himself homeless. Desperate for friendship, the creature had reluctantly gone along with it. Bulma even suspected that Buu had only used a minimum amount of force but that Vegeta had made no effort to protect himself from the attacks. He had wanted to get injured.
But why?
She saw the corner of his mouth twitch and grabbed for one bandaged hand. "Vegeta? It's Bulma. Can you hear me?" He had been in surgery up until two hours ago to repair the worst of his injuries. A heavy bandage covered his left eye and his nose was splinted. Add the band-aids, stitches, and general swelling, he looked almost unrecognizable. She watched the readouts on the EKG begin to speed up as he fought towards consciousness. "Vegeta-"
His right eye snapped open and his body gave a convulsive spasm. She put her hands on his chest and yelled down at him; "It's alright! You're in the hospital! Just relax!"
He looked around in panic before fixing on her, focusing with difficulty. He immediately recoiled away, as if he didn't recognize her. The cords on his necks were straining with tension but gradually, he started to relax. On the monitor, his racing heart rate began to slow down. He tried to talk and made only garbled sounds.
"You jaw is broken, Vegeta. You can't talk. Can you... use your mind? Are you strong enough to project?"
He slowly absorbed his surroundings and his heart rate began speeding up again. -... place of poisons... pain... prison again?
She heard his weak, disjointed thoughts and tried to reassure him as best she could; "You're in Capital General Hospital. You're going to be okay, just calm down. We need to talk things out. It's serious."
He tried to move again and his face pinched with pain. - woman... don't need to tell me the facts... i know it's bad news, he projected to her, his mental voice was weak and fuzzy with pain and lingering sedation.
Nevertheless, she read him the list, finishing with; "-The doctor said it's a miracle that you're not paralyzed from the waist down. As it is, it'll be over three weeks before you'll even be allowed to walk."
He rolled his eye in disgust and glanced towards the door. - trunks...?
"He doesn't know anything's happened. It's barely seven o'clock in the morning. When I get home, I'll tell him that you're taking a-a vacation-"
- a vacation, he rolled his eye again.
"What else would you have me tell him? That you were trying to have Majin Buu kill you all over again?" she snapped.
- it wasn't like that, he said in a defensive tone. - it was- we just- we were just sparring-
"-Spare me your bullshit and give me some damned credit for a change. I got the story straight from Buu. Another day of baiting him and he would have killed you, and it wouldn't even have really been his fault. What the hell were you thinking!?"
He offered her a lame, one-armed shrug, and looked away. She leaned over him until their noses were almost touching and he could plainly see that she wasn't just worried, she was brilliantly furious. He recognized that determined expression with acute dread. "I'm not leaving until I get an explanation, you stupid Saiyan. Do you hear me?"
His eye narrowed at the use of the racial slur and his lips compressed into a rigid straight line of defiance.
"Still won't talk, huh? How's this for an incentive?" She held up a Senzu bean, "Chi Chi gave me this. You could be up walking and talking in just a few minutes-"
He held up one bandaged arm, the exposed fingertips straining for the magical bean, and she deliberately pulled it beyond his reach. "No, not yet. We need to talk first."
His pale face flushed with anger. His mouth worked to try and talk before he gave up and touched her mind in frustration: - you're going to hold it ransom?
"Yes."
- you bitch!
She actually smiled at the insult. "Finally! There's a glimpse of the Saiyan prince I married. What the hell happened to you, Vegeta?"
His right eye narrowed in spite, his lips set in a stubborn, bloodless line, and she suggested quietly; "It was the Fusion, wasn't it?"
Shock registered on his damaged face; he was unable to even project his stunned thoughts to her. She knew she was right; his face was guilty and embarrassed and enraged all at the same time.
"The Potara earrings were meant to be permanent," she continued, "Creating an amalgam of you and Gokou, forever, but being inside of Buu reversed the effects. Because of that, there were side-effects, weren't there?"
- yes, he admitted reluctantly, his mental voice was shaken and hoarse with emotion.
"I saw Gokou earlier and he was... different. He barely stopped training long enough to talk to me. He's hardly associating with Chi Chi or his children. He-he's acting like-like..."
- me, he whispered, closing his eye in shame.
"And you like him."
-NO! i won't tolerate it... i-i won't allow it, he was trying to shake his head back and forth but the neck brace he was wearing prevented the action. - i won't have that third-class clown in my head! I WON'T!
Her hands were on his chest again, trying to calm him down. "Take it easy-"
-I will NOT take it easy! He sent fiercely, making her flinch. - How can I relax when I'm remembering people and places I've never even seen before? I can picture you as a teenager- I never knew you as a teenager! When I look at Trunks I see Gohan or Goten and when I look at you-! His flush deepened and he had to look away from her.
"-you see Chi Chi," she finished for him. "That's why you've been avoiding me. Is that why you shattered the mirror in your room? Because when you looked in it you saw Gokou's reflection? Not yours?"
He didn't say anything but the anguish in his face answered the question for her.
"Why did you start cutting yourself, Vegeta? Why did you force Buu to attack you day after day?"
His terse silence continued but she chose to wait it out, unmoving from his side. It could have been minutes or hours before he finally told her; - The pain kept me grounded. It was the only thing that was familiar to me-
"...Pain," she echoed from between trembling lips.
- I didn't have to think about anything else, he finished.
A period of awkward silence fell between the two before she was able to find her voice again. "If-if I give you the Senzu, you have to promise that you won't do that to yourself anymore."
- I... He thought back to the alien memories that had plagued him, to that terrible feeling of disassociation with his own body. - I can't make that promise.
"Then you're not getting it," she said flatly, putting the treasured bean back in her pocket and getting to her feet. She turned in preparation to leave.
-Woman!
"I'm not doing this to punish you, Vegeta. Really, I'm not," she said, glancing back at him. She was losing her battle with her emotions and her blue eyes were swimming with tears. "But I saw all of the blood in the bathroom, I saw the bloody shards of glass and the scraps of skin- Your skin! You're obviously not in your right mind and if keeping you confined to this bed is the only way I can make sure that you'll stay safe, then that's what I'm goh-going to do!" She started to cry and left the room at a brisk pace, unable to tolerate the sight of her bruised and broken husband any more.
Vegeta was absolutely thunderstruck. He tried to get out of the bed and it felt like his hips and back were rigged with electric shocks. He was encased in a full body cast to give his back time to heal and right now the plaster was stronger than he was. Releasing a choked gurgle of pain, he tried to pull off the oxygen mask, but the bandages on his hands were bulky and his fingers weren't coordinated yet. He pounded the mattress in frustration.
The machine beside him beeped and a monotonous electronic voice droned out; "Blood pressure has exceeded acceptable parameters. Sedation pre-dose being administered-"
A heavy heat began flowing through the Saiyan's right arm. When he tried to rip out the needle inserted into the vein, he found his other arm already unresponsive. That warmth spread quickly throughout his body, numbing him to all sensation.
"-Sedation sequence finished. Sweet dreams," the machine chirped.
- it's installation 15 all over again, he thought as he unwillingly tumbled down into darkness. - ... i'm a prisoner...
Bulma heard those last plaintive words drift through her mind from where she had collapsed into the nearest chair, and guilty tears streamed down her cheeks. She stared down at the Senzu bean in her hand and clenched her fist around it, shaking her head. She didn't dare heal him. Not yet. Not until they could both figure out a way to conquer this newest danger.
But he's in pain, he's suffering, she thought miserably. How can I do this to him?
There was no answer that could offer her any kind of relief. By the time she got home it was almost 7:30 in the morning and her mother was in the kitchen cooking breakfast. She had the large grill out and was making a second load of pancakes when she noticed her daughter come inside. "Good morning, dear. Pulled a late night in the office, did we? Such devotion!" she spouted cheerfully. "I swear that you and Vegeta are two sides of the same coin! I've made him a plate of pancakes. Can you call him and tell him they're ready?"
She was motioning to Vegeta's usual place setting where a plate of pancakes, at least fifteen high, was stacked. When Bulma's silence stretched on, she said; "I know that you said I shouldn't cook for him, but he's been looking so haggard these last few days-"
Her mother had noticed Vegeta's deterioration before she had. That was it. Bulma burst into tears and went over and hugged her mother like she was a child again, gripping her apron and shuddering against her. In halting sobs, she told the other woman what had happened and it wasn't long before Mrs. Briefs was crying as hard as her daughter. The blonde had always had a peculiar sort of attraction for the surly alien, and it was mystifying that Vegeta had never once berated her for the unwanted attention. No one was ever sure why.
"It's bad, mother," Bulma choked out, scrubbing her face with a paper towel when the torrent had passed. "Broken bones, pulled muscles, contusions, you name it. I can heal him but I don't know if I should." She showed the other woman the Senzu bean.
"Bulma! If he's in pain and you can do something about it, then why won't you?!"
"He's safe where he is. He can't go anywhere. He can't hurt himself anymore. I think that's what he needs most." She wearily shook her head, "I just don't know. He needs help, mom-"
"Who needs what?" Trunks yawned, shuffling into the kitchen still half-asleep. His lavender hair was an uncombed mess and he was wearing the bottom half of his pajamas and one slipper. He was definitely not a morning-person; a trait he had inherited from his mother. His eyes were at half-mast but there was nothing wrong with his nose, and it led him straight to Vegeta's stack of pancakes.
"Good morning, Trunks!" Bulma gushed, kissing him on the cheek and pushing him down into the nearest chair. "These are all for you, sweetie."
"They are?" His eyes opened at last. "Wow! What's the occasion?" he asked, drenching the mountain of pancakes with strawberry jam and immediately spearing his knife and fork into the crimson mess.
Bulma poured him a glass of orange juice and then sat down at the table across from him. "Hon, there's something you have to know- About your father."
"I'll, uh, go make the beds," Mrs. Briefs said, and made a quick exit.
Trunks watched her leave in confusion and then his blue eyes went back to his mother, noting her flushed, harried appearance and the fact that she was still wearing the same outfit from the day before. All traces of sleep immediately dissolved from his face to be replaced by concern. "What is it, mom? What happened?"
Bulma was struck dumb, unable to speak for a moment as she stared into the face of her son; a boy, despite his fairer looks, who was the younger version of his stricken father. "Trunks, he's... gone away, for awhile."
"What?"
"A-a vacation, I guess you could call it," she tried to smile but it was a wasted effort and she turned away. "He'll be back. Real soon..."
Trunks tried to absorb this information and processing it took a few minutes longer than it should have. Blame the early morning hour. Breakfast forgotten, he got up and went over to his mother and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Mom, you don't have to lie to me. I'm not a little kid anymore."
Bulma's eyes widened. "Trunks? What-what are you talking about. I said-"
"I know that you two have been sleeping in separate rooms for awhile. I saw how he treated you before the tournament. I'm not an idiot. You two are getting a-a divorce, aren't you?" His voice broke at the end and he cleared his throat and plunged on; "I mean it's, like, okay if you are. A lot of my friends at school... they- their parents-"
Bulma pulled him close and hugged him and, unlike out on the battlefield with his father, Trunks did not fight this gesture of assurance and love. He hugged her back, being mindful of his strength, and self-consciously wiped his eyes when they parted. Bulma held his shoulders and knelt down to look at him directly in the face, saying; "Your father and I haven't separated, Trunks. Yes, we're having some problems (that's the understatement of the century, she thought), but we're working through them. Together."
"Then why's he on a vacation?" Trunks asked in dismay.
Caught in her own lie, Bulma could only say; "Everything will be all right. I promise."
If there was one thing that Trunks could boast was that his mother had never lied to him and he let her words sway his insecurities. For now. There was still something wrong, something that she wasn't telling him, but he trusted her with all of his heart and soul and relented. She was the adult here, and a touted genius. If anyone could work through a problem, it was her. He returned to his seat and stared apathetically at the cold, soggy stack of pancakes, his previous enthusiasm forgotten.
That was, until his grandmother made a miraculous return and began cooking up a fresh batch for him. It was amazing how resilient children were. "You should try and catch up on some sleep, dear," she told her daughter. "Working all night can take a lot out of you."
"Yes, mother," Bulma said, giving Trunks another peck on the cheek before she left.
Tired to the bone, she went to her bedroom to try and catch a few hours sleep before returning to the hospital for the afternoon visitation. She sat on the edge of the king-sized bed, staring longingly at Vegeta's side. Almost two weeks apart now. It was actually much longer than that. When the Saiyan had found out that Gokou was going to participate in the Tournament, he had practically moved into the gravity simulator for the next two months. There had been no intimacy between them for that entire time, not even the night before the Tournament. Just him and his blasted training-
I saw how he treated you before the tournament. I'm not an idiot, Trunks had just told her. Had she thought that she had fooled him with all of her prancing around? Acting as if everything was still hunky-dory even when, in truth, things were crumbling apart? She had known that her relationship with Vegeta was fading fast; helpless and unable to prevent their growing distance apart. Right before the tournament she had to accept the truth: He didn't love her any more. As a result, in the darkest hours of the night as she slept alone in their bed, that "D" word began to creep into her deepest thoughts. She didn't discourage it from doing that, either...
She backhanded the lamp on the nightstand in sudden anger and felt absolutely no sense of satisfaction when she looked down at the broken ceramic. She picked up a piece, ran her finger along the edge, and lightly ran it along the back of her arm, producing a light scratch. Not deep enough to bleed but it still stung. Vegeta had methodically sliced both arms to ribbons and hadn't betrayed any indication that he was in pain.
- The pain kept me grounded. It was the only thing that was familiar to me, he had confessed to her.
"Oh God!" She dropped the piece of lamp and cupped her face in her hands, wondering what was going to happen to him. What was going to happen to them both...?
As she compulsively searched for an answer, sleep was forgotten.
>>>>>
Six hours later, she appeared at the hospital for afternoon visiting hours. She found Vegeta awake and alert in his bed. As she had expected, he was also something else:
Livid.
He no more than took one look at her when the monitoring machine beside him detected a spike in his blood pressure and drugged him again before he could get out one word. When the doctor assigned to his care found out about it, he informed her that such variations of blood pressure at this stage in his recovery could be detrimental to his recovery. Like a little girl caught doing something wrong in school, he ordered her to go home.
Twenty-four hours later, Bulma stubbornly returned to his room, hovering around his slumbering form like an anxious wraith. She didn't need any type of a bond to tell her that her husband was furious with her for trapping him like this.
"-But what else can I do?" she muttered by his bedside, nervously playing with the Senzu bean between her fingers. She was a pale and harried shell of her former self, unable to sleep, barely able to eat, plagued by guilt and concern for her ailing mate.
He finally gave a low groan and began to stir. There was a band aide across the bridge of his nose and a smaller bandage over his injured left eye. The right one snapped open and immediately focused on her and right away, the sedation module chirped: "Blood pressure is beginning to approach pre-established parameters-"
She jumped to her feet and shut the device off before it could deliver the next debilitating dose. "I can't do this anymore, it isn't fair," she said.
- my jailer finally sees reason, came a low growl deep in her mind. When she looked down at him, she hadn't seen such hatred in his face since their days on Namek.
"I'm not your jailer," she said in a level voice.
- Could have fooled me. Look where I am.
"This is your fault you're here. You did this to yourself. Stop blaming me and accept some responsibility for once in your miserable life!"
- I know why I'm here. I also know you can get me out, but you won't.
"That's because you won't give me the promise I'm asking for. It's not a big request but you're being your usual damned stubborn-"
He passed her a frustrated wave of his bandaged arm. - Turn the fucking machine back on, he growled at her. - At least I'll be spared your eternal bitching-
Bulma suddenly slapped him. It wasn't hard, barely a tap, but his expression was frankly astonished. Before he could collect his thoughts to manage a response she cut in with: "You have to see things from my point of view, Vegeta! You were deliberately hurting yourself. What else am I supposed to do?"
He didn't answer her.
"All I'm asking is that you not do that to yourself anymore!" she shouted at him in desperation. "Why is that so hard for you to agree to?"
- What does it matter? Why don't you go off and watch Divorce Court and leave me in peace?
Her blue eyes widened in shock and, for an instant, guilt. She thought that Trunks might have voiced his concerns to his father, but knew that was impossible. Very cautiously, she asked him; "...What just possessed you to being up that?"
- I know you were thinking about it.
"Not... true," she said weakly, sitting down in the nearest chair. "Not-not now-"
- No. But when I was in training for my battle with Kakarrot-
"What do you expect?! You abandoned me for that fucking tournament," she hissed with alarming venom. "You didn't have a kind word for me for those two months. You wouldn't even touch me! I was starting to hate you."
-Good, it was working then... He managed one curt nod despite the neck brace and looked over at the television before she lunged towards him and grabbed both sides of his head.
"What did you say?!" she yelled down into his face. "What the hell are you talking about? Did you treat me like that on purpose? Why would you do such a terrible thing?!"
He fixed her with a chilling glare - You knew the date of Kami's vision was near just as I did. I wanted to ensure you would move on. I knew I wasn't coming back alive from that battle.
"Gokou would never have killed you-"
The sudden harsh look he passed her silenced her. - Everyone thinks the Desperation Attack I used to try and finish Buu was a spur of the minute idea. He gave as much of a shake of the head as the neck brace allowed. - It wasn't. I came up with that strategy over a month ago. I'd planned on taking Kakarrot to the grave with me, one way or the other-
"!!GOKOU WAS ALREADY DEAD, YOU IDIOT!!" she screamed directly down into his face. "He was only back on the Earth for 24 hours!"
- You're hurting my ears-
"SHUT UP!" she gripped the pillow on both sides of his head until her fingernails dug into the fabric with a death grip. "You put me through hell for those two months, you selfish prick! Why would you do something like that? What was the damned point of it all?!" Her brilliant blue eyes radiated rays of chilling fire and they bore down into Vegeta's bloodshot black one, demanding an explanation.
-Because I love you, came the calm response.
She recoiled as if he had physically slapped her. Her mouth worked in shock but no sound came out. She took a step away from the bed and regarded him as if he were a stranger. "You-you... what?" she whispered.
- I meant it. He tapped his temple with his finger; - Blame it on the residue of Kakarrot's sentimentality, but it's true. I love you, Bulma. And I knew it was time to let you go.
"I-I don't understand..."
- I was going to die- one way or another. I knew it was going to happen and I also knew that a 'selfish prick' like me didn't deserve to have someone like you pining away for me. Most importantly, YOU didn't deserve that.
"Vegeta-"
- But I wasn't counting on being brought back. I'm not the man I used to be. I ... don't know who I am anymore, and I don't want you here to see me like this.
Bulma knew about Dende's words to Shenron: "Bring back everyone who had died on Earth, except for the evil ones." Vegeta had been spared from eternal damnation, and all because of an aborted Potara Fusion that had given him just enough of Gokou's kindly spirit to be deemed acceptable by the Great Dragon. It was just as he was telling her now; Vegeta, The evil Prince of the Saiyans, was no more.
So who was he? There was so much pain and confusion to his metal sending that she realized not even he knew the answer and it was tearing him apart. Violence and sadism had defined the majority of his life; the memories were still there but the ambitions had been replaced by another man's feelings of remorse. The two emotions, among others equally unfamiliar, were like oil and water, unable to merge, and it was tearing him apart right down to the core of his being: The evil man he had been, now sharing the same space with his righteous rival.
"We'll work through this crisis, Vegeta. Just like we have before-"
- I won't ask you to stick around and nurse me back to health, Bulma. Not this time. Not again. You deserve better-
Unable to hear anymore, she cut in with: "You're not thinking clearly right now. Things will work themselves out. They always do. All you have to do is promise me that you won't cut yourself anymore. After that, we can go-"
-I just said that I love you! He shouted at her. Do you need any more proof than that to finally understand that something is seriously wrong with me? How can I make a promise to you when I don't even know who I am anymore?
"You have to see things from the bright side-"
Exasperated, he looked away from her. - I'm through talking. I'm tired. Go home, Bulma.
"But-"
- Please, he said and squeezed his eye shut.
She stood helplessly from her position beside the bed, gearing up for a tirade when a nurse entered the room and took quick stock of the equipment. "Did you turn this off, Mrs. Briefs?" she asked, examining the sedation module.
"I-I- uh..."
The nurse flashed her a disapproving glare and turned it back on. The machine released a shrill whistle and the electronic voice immediately buzzed; "Blood pressure has far-exceeded acceptable parameters. Sedation pre-dose now being-"
Bulma couldn't bear to watch him go through this again. Looking down, she stared at the Senzu trapped in her sweaty palm and forced herself to place it gently upon his chest. Before succumbing to the drugs, Vegeta squinted at the bean and then looked up at her.
"I love you, too," she whispered, and kissed him directly on the mouth. His eye drifted closed during the tender act just as the module trilled: "-Sedation sequence finished. Sweet dreams." Bulma reluctantly left the room with mixed emotions. She realized that she had either given him his freedom or sealed his doom, and she was too confused to know what to do about either scenario.
For that entire evening, Bulma lied on her side of the bed and gripped her cell phone in one trembling hand. She was waiting for the stunned call from the hospital that would be raving on about Vegeta's miraculous recovery.
She knew that he wouldn't be able to chew the Senzu bean but he had several broken teeth during his skirmishes with Buu that he could slip it through one of the gaps and swallow it whole. It would probably take much longer for his system to heal as the bean broke down in his stomach, but the process would be certainly finished by now. Would he come home? She had kept him trapped in a hospital bed against his will; severing Sihs'kar- his trust in her. Would he forgive her or give up on her? He was so different now she had no way of predicting what he might do.
- I love you, he had told her. Finally! The proclamation that she had so longed to hear from her husband at long, long last! She should have felt vindicated that her patience had finally won out; Flattered that she had finally tamed the feral Prince. The words should have filled her with joy and hope for their future together.
Instead, they scared her half to death. It was like some twisted deathbed confessional and those three little words followed her down into her troubled sleep and haunted her dreams.
>>>>>
There was no call from the hospital that entire night. When she went down to breakfast the following morning, she faced her parents and Trunks and tentatively asked; "Has anyone seen Vegeta?"
The boy's eyes brightened. "He's coming home today?"
I hope so, she thought and forced a smile on her pale face. "Yes, he should be arriving soon..."
"Cool," he piped up, and attacked his scrambled eggs with renewed gusto.
She went downstairs to her office, glowering at the stack of proposals, forms, and messages that were stacked on her desk. She had been neglecting her duties as the Company President and this day was no different. Clearing aside some debris, she found the phone and called the hospital to find out when Vegeta had left the building.
Her eyes widened when she was informed that he was still there.
>>>>>
When she burst into the room less than fifteen minutes later, she found him still in his hospital bed, placidly watching the television and sucking on a glass of water through the straw. She was out of breath from her mad rush to the hospital and barely able to believe it when he looked over at her, completely unfazed by her sudden appearance. He was still in his body cast, still wearing his bandages and splints-
"You didn't take the Senzu," she choked out, glancing at the bean lying on the nightstand beside the hospital bed. "Why?"
- Why bother? What good would it do? he asked listlessly.
She looked at him as if she didn't understand the question. "It would heal you! You wouldn't have to suffer your injuries anymore."
- The Senzu would heal my body but what about up here? He pointed to his head. - That's the part that's damaged the most and the Senzu won't help it.
"How do you know that?"
- I just do, he said and looked away. - So why bother taking it if I can't be whole again?
"How about for Trunks? For me? We miss you, Vegeta. We want you to come back home."
He snorted. - What's home to me now? Capsule Corp.? Or some hovel at the base of Mount Pazou?
She sat back in exasperation. "You're not making any sense. This is no different than when Frieza's poison damaged your mind. You just need some time to shake it off-"
He gripped his head and raged: - It's been two fucking weeks! It's not getting any better!
"You have to give it time," she persisted.
- Even if the memories fade, I'll still no longer be who I used to be. Instead of being an Elite, I'm now some bastardized hybrid of Third-class trash. I feel like I've been rolled around in manure and that feeling is inside of me! I can't get it out!
The monitoring equipment released a beep and stated: "Blood pressure has just exceeded acceptable parameters-"
- FUCK! Vegeta shouted in frustration.
Bulma ran around to the side of the bed and shut the machine off before it could finish its sedation sequence. As it was, he still received a hefty dose of the narcotic and she cradled his face between her hands as he struggled to stay awake. "You're going to be okay, Vegeta. Do you hear me? We're going to get through this together."
His eyelid fluttered and he focused on her with difficulty. -why do you worry so much about me? he asked her bleakly. - why do you even bother to care?
"Vegeta, not again-"
- you'd be better off with kakarrot, he mumbled, - i saw how things were between you two... maybe a wish can set things right.
It was the drug talking, Bulma told herself as the Saiyan continued his bewildered mental rambling. He was more asleep than awake, randomly projecting thoughts that he normally kept hidden and buried. For the first time since he had crashed through the windshield of her hoverjet, she felt chilled to the bone.
- he'd treat you better than I ever could... you'd be happier with him, he persisted. - if you want to begin the rite of divorce... i won't stop you-
She lightly slapped his unmarked cheek and said directly, "I won't hear one more damned thing about a divorce! You are my husband, Vegeta. I love you! You're Trunks' father. This has nothing to do with Gokou. He's always leaving his family behind for some stupid reason or another. You? You are always right here."
He searched her face for any trace of deception and she watched as a tear spilled from his one good eye and tracked slowly down his bruised cheek, -... i haven't got anywhere else to go... he confessed in a small voice.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>
To be continued...
(c) 2006 by Darke Angelus
Part 2 - Shattered
>>>>>>
After her terrifying discovery in Vegeta's bathroom, Bulma exited the foul quarters and raced down the corridor. Her mother had heard her daughter's shriek and looked up sharply when she came pounding quickly down the stairs. "Are you alright?" the blonde asked urgently. The younger woman's face was deathly pale.
"Where's Vegeta? Have you seen him?" Bulma panted.
"Well, not today-"
"Shit!"
"-But he has been going to visit Majin Buu quite a bit lately. Perhaps he's in the atrium-"
Running past her, Bulma raced down the myriad corridors and sprinted out into the spacious interior of the domed headquarters building. The large area was curiously empty and she went over to one of the groundskeepers, asking, "Where's Majin Buu?"
Leaning on his rake, the man tipped his hat back and smiled at her. "You husband has been taking him out sight-seeing this last week. Damnedest sight I ever saw-"
"Do you know where they went?"
"Well, it doesn't seem to be the same place twice but I could have sworn I heard them talking about going to the coast-"
Bulma started to turn away and looked back at the man. "Did you get a good look at Vegeta? Does he look okay?"
"Ms. Briefs, I try to avoid looking that guy in the face, no offense. The last time I did, he damn near chewed my head off-"
"Thanks!" she interrupted and dashed away.
It was such a long shot, she fretted as she piloted her hoverjet along the Pacific coastline beyond the Western Capital. She skimmed along the shore and first headed north but soon noticed that the areas were becoming more and more populated. Majin Buu was supposed to stay out of sight so she turned the small craft around and sped along the coast heading south. She zipped past the Capital, rivulets of nervous sweat trickling down the small of her back, and didn't keep her eye off of the rocky shoreline and beach. That was the reason she didn't get out of the way in time to avoid the body that came crashing in through her windshield.
>>>>>
Majin Buu was terribly upset but he didn't know how to express the emotion. The first time that Vegeta had come to visit him, he had been ecstatic for the company but by the end of the day, his cheer had diminished significantly. After six days, it had disappeared altogether.
True to his word, the Saiyan took him to places that he had never seen before but the entity had very little time to enjoy it. He quickly discovered that the first time: Vegeta had taken him to a desolate valley with statuesque buttes and he had started to ogle the surroundings only to have a boot slam up between his legs. He didn't have any genitalia to speak of, even his nerve bundles were desensitized to pain, so he just looked over his shoulder at Vegeta and politely inquired: "What you doing?"
"Dancing, you fat fuck!" Vegeta shouted and punched him so hard that his arm disappeared in Buu's pink bulk up to the elbow.
For the next few minutes, Buu tolerated being the sole target of the Saiyan's inexplicable rage. Most of the kicks and punches just tickled, and a few caused no more than a mild irritation. Throughout the attack, Vegeta didn't stop taunting him: "-useless piece of shit! Dumber than a dead cow! Uglier than a molting Kruc'T! Stupider than a-"
That alone started to anger Buu. Steam began filtering through the dorsal holes along the sides of his head and down both arms. When Vegeta phased in to land a punch guaranteed to shatter his breastbone (had he one), Buu caught the fist. "Why you do this? Why you anger Buu?" he asked in dismay.
"Because it's fun, dumbnuts," Vegeta said and spit in his face.
Buu's face scrunched up in anger and his mitten tightened around the Saiyan's hand with crushing force. With a cry of fury he kicked out and felt absolutely no joy as he watched the smaller man fly backwards a distance of over 40 feet to slam into a butte of hard granite. The mountain of rocks collapsed over the Saiyan and all was still for about ten seconds before he crawled out. The most amazing thing of all, he was grinning.
"That's more like it," Vegeta muttered to himself as he rubbed one shoulder.
"Buu sorry!" the pink entity called over to him, holding up his hands. "Buu no want fight!"
"Tough shit, because I do," was all that the alien would offer before attacking again.
Buu did not understand what was happening. He just defended himself against the irrational man as best he could but over time, the insults and taunts began to penetrate his confusion. Incited into a rage, with steam whistling through his holes, he responded to the attack at long last. Every punch, kick, and hit he delivered staggered the Saiyan; bruising skin and muscle, breaking skin and bone. Buu knew he was immortal, he knew he was indestructible, and sadly, he was also very stupid not to realize that Vegeta knew all of that as well-
-And that it was just what the Saiyan had been counting on.
For the last five days the pair battled; each keeping their ki auras low and not projecting any blasts that might attract unwanted attention (from civilians and, particularly, from the Z fighters). Each day lacked the severity of conflict of the day before; not because Buu was reining in his temper at being insulted (he was remarkably easy to goad), but because of Vegeta's steadily deteriorating state. By the sixth day the Saiyan was a wreck; barely able to stand, and it began to register even on Buu's dim intelligence that this whole warped scenario was very, very wrong.
He hesitated from delivering a kick that would have shattered the Saiyan's ribcage and stepped back, shaking his head back and forth like a bewildered child. "No. Nonono-"
"What's wrong? Too-" Vegeta paused to throw up a combination of blood and bile and then continued on as if nothing had happened, "-chickenshit to fight?"
"Buu fight no more!" the entity cried out.
"We'll stop fighting when I say so," the alien snarled, getting slowly to his feet. He fell to one knee with the first attempt, and finally made it up on the second. Barely. He wasn't able to straighten up and limped towards Buu with steady determination. He stared at the mystical creature through one good eye, the other was swollen shut, and blood was pouring from a crooked nose that had been broken three days before. "And I haven't said we're finished yet. I'd suggest you wrap that concept around your tiny, insignificant pea-sized brain. I'm the boss here. Got it?"
Buu wanted to take to the air and fly back to Capsule Corp. but he never paid attention to where he and Vegeta went and always got immediately lost. Humans weren't allowed to see him yet and his only tour-guide was trying to coax him into a fight. He just didn't know what to do. "Buu no hurt NO MORE!" he shouted back.
Vegeta's right eye widened in surprise. "You stupid sack of shit! You're too dumb to have a backbone! You were created to obey and I'm ordering you to fight me!" He moved in like a flash, delivering a punch that actually knocked the bewildered entity off of his feet.
Gritting his teeth, Buu flailed his head tentacle around and clipped the Saiyan across the face, driving him back down to his knees. He was trembling with repressed rage and just as he began to advance on the ailing Saiyan, his arcane senses picked up a familiar presence rapidly approaching. His eyes, narrowed to a spiteful squint, popped open in relief. "Friend is coming. Buu take you to friend!"
Cradling his jaw, Vegeta sneered at the creature with open contempt. "I'm not going anywhere," he slurred through a mouthful of blood.
"Fine!" Buu said, racing towards him, "Then Buu send you to her!" He picked up the wounded Saiyan like a rag and swung him around in a wide arc, throwing him into the sky. Vegeta's outraged bellow didn't end until he smashed through the cockpit window of Bulma's hoverjet.
>>>>>
"Ohmigod- VEGETA!" she shrieked, barely having the wits to set the small craft on autopilot before rushing to the back of the cabin where the Saiyan had collided with the storage cabinet. He was out cold and unresponsive and she felt for a pulse along his swollen jaw line. Her trembling fingers eventually found a heartbeat but it seemed alarmingly weak. She was scared to move him but the lay of his body seemed unnatural. When she tried to shift the position of his legs, he released a cry of pain and began coughing up great gouts of blood, so much so that she rolled him onto his side so that he wouldn't choke to death.
Blood...Oh god, there was so much blood! She thought numbly, watching the stain beneath her husband spread out along the carpet in a widening pool. She rushed back to the cockpit and saw a sight that immediately enraged her.
"What did you do to him, you monster!?" she screamed at Buu, who was sheepishly peering in at her from the shattered windshield. "He's dying! What the hell is wrong with you!"
Buu's mittened hands wrung together in anguish as he stammered over a reply. At the sight of Bulma's rage, he did what most super powered beings did when exposed to that force of nature:
He burst into tears.
>>>>>
Twelve hours later, Bulma was sitting beside Vegeta's hospital bed waiting for him to wake up. It was an eerie sense of déjà vu, reminding her of the first (but certainly not the last) time she had made this vigil; back when they had been little more than acquaintances and he had been recovering from the gravity simulator explosion. The state that he was now in made that event look like a minor incident. Just at first glance, she knew that his wounds would be too much for the Capsule Corporation infirmary to handle and she had called ahead to the Capital General Hospital. There had been emergency staff waiting for her when she had landed on the roof of the building.
"Mrs. Briefs! What happened to him?" the doctor asked her as they quickly wheeled the stretcher into the elevator. Vegeta was still unconscious and unresponsive to the nurses' and interns' efforts.
"Car-car accident," was all she could manage to get out, trailing along after the harried medical team like a woman caught in the grips of her worst nightmare.
She was holding the doctor's report in her hands now, practically committing every injury to memory:
-multiple concussions, detached retina, broken nose, broken jaw, two crushed vertebrae, one slipped disk, five fractured ribs, a perforated lung, ruptured spleen, two bruised kidneys, one broken collarbone, one dislocated shoulder, broken pelvis, wrenched knee, sprained ankle-
"Oh God," she moaned, forcing her eyes away from the paper and struggling with an onset of nausea. She put her face in her hands until the feeling passed and then looked over at the sight of Vegeta's bandaged arms. It had taken over sixty-eight stitches to close the deepest of the criss-crossed gashes covering his fingers, hands and forearms. From what she could gather from the Room of Horrors his bathroom had become, he had been taking pieces of the broken mirror and cutting himself with the glass. In several spots, it looked like he had even begun flaying off his own skin. The damage had been hidden by his usual elbow-length gloves and some of the older gouges had started to become infected with neglect.
Bulma knew that the Saiyan had a penchant towards injuring himself in training but this was on a whole different, disturbing level. This was just mindless, self-inflicted torture. He hadn't been trying to slit his wrists; according to the doctor assigned to his care, he had deliberately missed the veins, so it wasn't a suicide attempt. She just couldn't wrap her brain around Vegeta's state of mind to want to subject himself to such agony.
She couldn't even entirely blame Majin Buu for all of this, either. On the frantic trip back to Capsule Corporation, she had learned that the Saiyan had deliberately goaded the entity into attacking him. He had even told Buu that if he told anyone about what they were doing, particularly to her, he would find himself homeless. Desperate for friendship, the creature had reluctantly gone along with it. Bulma even suspected that Buu had only used a minimum amount of force but that Vegeta had made no effort to protect himself from the attacks. He had wanted to get injured.
But why?
She saw the corner of his mouth twitch and grabbed for one bandaged hand. "Vegeta? It's Bulma. Can you hear me?" He had been in surgery up until two hours ago to repair the worst of his injuries. A heavy bandage covered his left eye and his nose was splinted. Add the band-aids, stitches, and general swelling, he looked almost unrecognizable. She watched the readouts on the EKG begin to speed up as he fought towards consciousness. "Vegeta-"
His right eye snapped open and his body gave a convulsive spasm. She put her hands on his chest and yelled down at him; "It's alright! You're in the hospital! Just relax!"
He looked around in panic before fixing on her, focusing with difficulty. He immediately recoiled away, as if he didn't recognize her. The cords on his necks were straining with tension but gradually, he started to relax. On the monitor, his racing heart rate began to slow down. He tried to talk and made only garbled sounds.
"You jaw is broken, Vegeta. You can't talk. Can you... use your mind? Are you strong enough to project?"
He slowly absorbed his surroundings and his heart rate began speeding up again. -... place of poisons... pain... prison again?
She heard his weak, disjointed thoughts and tried to reassure him as best she could; "You're in Capital General Hospital. You're going to be okay, just calm down. We need to talk things out. It's serious."
He tried to move again and his face pinched with pain. - woman... don't need to tell me the facts... i know it's bad news, he projected to her, his mental voice was weak and fuzzy with pain and lingering sedation.
Nevertheless, she read him the list, finishing with; "-The doctor said it's a miracle that you're not paralyzed from the waist down. As it is, it'll be over three weeks before you'll even be allowed to walk."
He rolled his eye in disgust and glanced towards the door. - trunks...?
"He doesn't know anything's happened. It's barely seven o'clock in the morning. When I get home, I'll tell him that you're taking a-a vacation-"
- a vacation, he rolled his eye again.
"What else would you have me tell him? That you were trying to have Majin Buu kill you all over again?" she snapped.
- it wasn't like that, he said in a defensive tone. - it was- we just- we were just sparring-
"-Spare me your bullshit and give me some damned credit for a change. I got the story straight from Buu. Another day of baiting him and he would have killed you, and it wouldn't even have really been his fault. What the hell were you thinking!?"
He offered her a lame, one-armed shrug, and looked away. She leaned over him until their noses were almost touching and he could plainly see that she wasn't just worried, she was brilliantly furious. He recognized that determined expression with acute dread. "I'm not leaving until I get an explanation, you stupid Saiyan. Do you hear me?"
His eye narrowed at the use of the racial slur and his lips compressed into a rigid straight line of defiance.
"Still won't talk, huh? How's this for an incentive?" She held up a Senzu bean, "Chi Chi gave me this. You could be up walking and talking in just a few minutes-"
He held up one bandaged arm, the exposed fingertips straining for the magical bean, and she deliberately pulled it beyond his reach. "No, not yet. We need to talk first."
His pale face flushed with anger. His mouth worked to try and talk before he gave up and touched her mind in frustration: - you're going to hold it ransom?
"Yes."
- you bitch!
She actually smiled at the insult. "Finally! There's a glimpse of the Saiyan prince I married. What the hell happened to you, Vegeta?"
His right eye narrowed in spite, his lips set in a stubborn, bloodless line, and she suggested quietly; "It was the Fusion, wasn't it?"
Shock registered on his damaged face; he was unable to even project his stunned thoughts to her. She knew she was right; his face was guilty and embarrassed and enraged all at the same time.
"The Potara earrings were meant to be permanent," she continued, "Creating an amalgam of you and Gokou, forever, but being inside of Buu reversed the effects. Because of that, there were side-effects, weren't there?"
- yes, he admitted reluctantly, his mental voice was shaken and hoarse with emotion.
"I saw Gokou earlier and he was... different. He barely stopped training long enough to talk to me. He's hardly associating with Chi Chi or his children. He-he's acting like-like..."
- me, he whispered, closing his eye in shame.
"And you like him."
-NO! i won't tolerate it... i-i won't allow it, he was trying to shake his head back and forth but the neck brace he was wearing prevented the action. - i won't have that third-class clown in my head! I WON'T!
Her hands were on his chest again, trying to calm him down. "Take it easy-"
-I will NOT take it easy! He sent fiercely, making her flinch. - How can I relax when I'm remembering people and places I've never even seen before? I can picture you as a teenager- I never knew you as a teenager! When I look at Trunks I see Gohan or Goten and when I look at you-! His flush deepened and he had to look away from her.
"-you see Chi Chi," she finished for him. "That's why you've been avoiding me. Is that why you shattered the mirror in your room? Because when you looked in it you saw Gokou's reflection? Not yours?"
He didn't say anything but the anguish in his face answered the question for her.
"Why did you start cutting yourself, Vegeta? Why did you force Buu to attack you day after day?"
His terse silence continued but she chose to wait it out, unmoving from his side. It could have been minutes or hours before he finally told her; - The pain kept me grounded. It was the only thing that was familiar to me-
"...Pain," she echoed from between trembling lips.
- I didn't have to think about anything else, he finished.
A period of awkward silence fell between the two before she was able to find her voice again. "If-if I give you the Senzu, you have to promise that you won't do that to yourself anymore."
- I... He thought back to the alien memories that had plagued him, to that terrible feeling of disassociation with his own body. - I can't make that promise.
"Then you're not getting it," she said flatly, putting the treasured bean back in her pocket and getting to her feet. She turned in preparation to leave.
-Woman!
"I'm not doing this to punish you, Vegeta. Really, I'm not," she said, glancing back at him. She was losing her battle with her emotions and her blue eyes were swimming with tears. "But I saw all of the blood in the bathroom, I saw the bloody shards of glass and the scraps of skin- Your skin! You're obviously not in your right mind and if keeping you confined to this bed is the only way I can make sure that you'll stay safe, then that's what I'm goh-going to do!" She started to cry and left the room at a brisk pace, unable to tolerate the sight of her bruised and broken husband any more.
Vegeta was absolutely thunderstruck. He tried to get out of the bed and it felt like his hips and back were rigged with electric shocks. He was encased in a full body cast to give his back time to heal and right now the plaster was stronger than he was. Releasing a choked gurgle of pain, he tried to pull off the oxygen mask, but the bandages on his hands were bulky and his fingers weren't coordinated yet. He pounded the mattress in frustration.
The machine beside him beeped and a monotonous electronic voice droned out; "Blood pressure has exceeded acceptable parameters. Sedation pre-dose being administered-"
A heavy heat began flowing through the Saiyan's right arm. When he tried to rip out the needle inserted into the vein, he found his other arm already unresponsive. That warmth spread quickly throughout his body, numbing him to all sensation.
"-Sedation sequence finished. Sweet dreams," the machine chirped.
- it's installation 15 all over again, he thought as he unwillingly tumbled down into darkness. - ... i'm a prisoner...
Bulma heard those last plaintive words drift through her mind from where she had collapsed into the nearest chair, and guilty tears streamed down her cheeks. She stared down at the Senzu bean in her hand and clenched her fist around it, shaking her head. She didn't dare heal him. Not yet. Not until they could both figure out a way to conquer this newest danger.
But he's in pain, he's suffering, she thought miserably. How can I do this to him?
There was no answer that could offer her any kind of relief. By the time she got home it was almost 7:30 in the morning and her mother was in the kitchen cooking breakfast. She had the large grill out and was making a second load of pancakes when she noticed her daughter come inside. "Good morning, dear. Pulled a late night in the office, did we? Such devotion!" she spouted cheerfully. "I swear that you and Vegeta are two sides of the same coin! I've made him a plate of pancakes. Can you call him and tell him they're ready?"
She was motioning to Vegeta's usual place setting where a plate of pancakes, at least fifteen high, was stacked. When Bulma's silence stretched on, she said; "I know that you said I shouldn't cook for him, but he's been looking so haggard these last few days-"
Her mother had noticed Vegeta's deterioration before she had. That was it. Bulma burst into tears and went over and hugged her mother like she was a child again, gripping her apron and shuddering against her. In halting sobs, she told the other woman what had happened and it wasn't long before Mrs. Briefs was crying as hard as her daughter. The blonde had always had a peculiar sort of attraction for the surly alien, and it was mystifying that Vegeta had never once berated her for the unwanted attention. No one was ever sure why.
"It's bad, mother," Bulma choked out, scrubbing her face with a paper towel when the torrent had passed. "Broken bones, pulled muscles, contusions, you name it. I can heal him but I don't know if I should." She showed the other woman the Senzu bean.
"Bulma! If he's in pain and you can do something about it, then why won't you?!"
"He's safe where he is. He can't go anywhere. He can't hurt himself anymore. I think that's what he needs most." She wearily shook her head, "I just don't know. He needs help, mom-"
"Who needs what?" Trunks yawned, shuffling into the kitchen still half-asleep. His lavender hair was an uncombed mess and he was wearing the bottom half of his pajamas and one slipper. He was definitely not a morning-person; a trait he had inherited from his mother. His eyes were at half-mast but there was nothing wrong with his nose, and it led him straight to Vegeta's stack of pancakes.
"Good morning, Trunks!" Bulma gushed, kissing him on the cheek and pushing him down into the nearest chair. "These are all for you, sweetie."
"They are?" His eyes opened at last. "Wow! What's the occasion?" he asked, drenching the mountain of pancakes with strawberry jam and immediately spearing his knife and fork into the crimson mess.
Bulma poured him a glass of orange juice and then sat down at the table across from him. "Hon, there's something you have to know- About your father."
"I'll, uh, go make the beds," Mrs. Briefs said, and made a quick exit.
Trunks watched her leave in confusion and then his blue eyes went back to his mother, noting her flushed, harried appearance and the fact that she was still wearing the same outfit from the day before. All traces of sleep immediately dissolved from his face to be replaced by concern. "What is it, mom? What happened?"
Bulma was struck dumb, unable to speak for a moment as she stared into the face of her son; a boy, despite his fairer looks, who was the younger version of his stricken father. "Trunks, he's... gone away, for awhile."
"What?"
"A-a vacation, I guess you could call it," she tried to smile but it was a wasted effort and she turned away. "He'll be back. Real soon..."
Trunks tried to absorb this information and processing it took a few minutes longer than it should have. Blame the early morning hour. Breakfast forgotten, he got up and went over to his mother and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Mom, you don't have to lie to me. I'm not a little kid anymore."
Bulma's eyes widened. "Trunks? What-what are you talking about. I said-"
"I know that you two have been sleeping in separate rooms for awhile. I saw how he treated you before the tournament. I'm not an idiot. You two are getting a-a divorce, aren't you?" His voice broke at the end and he cleared his throat and plunged on; "I mean it's, like, okay if you are. A lot of my friends at school... they- their parents-"
Bulma pulled him close and hugged him and, unlike out on the battlefield with his father, Trunks did not fight this gesture of assurance and love. He hugged her back, being mindful of his strength, and self-consciously wiped his eyes when they parted. Bulma held his shoulders and knelt down to look at him directly in the face, saying; "Your father and I haven't separated, Trunks. Yes, we're having some problems (that's the understatement of the century, she thought), but we're working through them. Together."
"Then why's he on a vacation?" Trunks asked in dismay.
Caught in her own lie, Bulma could only say; "Everything will be all right. I promise."
If there was one thing that Trunks could boast was that his mother had never lied to him and he let her words sway his insecurities. For now. There was still something wrong, something that she wasn't telling him, but he trusted her with all of his heart and soul and relented. She was the adult here, and a touted genius. If anyone could work through a problem, it was her. He returned to his seat and stared apathetically at the cold, soggy stack of pancakes, his previous enthusiasm forgotten.
That was, until his grandmother made a miraculous return and began cooking up a fresh batch for him. It was amazing how resilient children were. "You should try and catch up on some sleep, dear," she told her daughter. "Working all night can take a lot out of you."
"Yes, mother," Bulma said, giving Trunks another peck on the cheek before she left.
Tired to the bone, she went to her bedroom to try and catch a few hours sleep before returning to the hospital for the afternoon visitation. She sat on the edge of the king-sized bed, staring longingly at Vegeta's side. Almost two weeks apart now. It was actually much longer than that. When the Saiyan had found out that Gokou was going to participate in the Tournament, he had practically moved into the gravity simulator for the next two months. There had been no intimacy between them for that entire time, not even the night before the Tournament. Just him and his blasted training-
I saw how he treated you before the tournament. I'm not an idiot, Trunks had just told her. Had she thought that she had fooled him with all of her prancing around? Acting as if everything was still hunky-dory even when, in truth, things were crumbling apart? She had known that her relationship with Vegeta was fading fast; helpless and unable to prevent their growing distance apart. Right before the tournament she had to accept the truth: He didn't love her any more. As a result, in the darkest hours of the night as she slept alone in their bed, that "D" word began to creep into her deepest thoughts. She didn't discourage it from doing that, either...
She backhanded the lamp on the nightstand in sudden anger and felt absolutely no sense of satisfaction when she looked down at the broken ceramic. She picked up a piece, ran her finger along the edge, and lightly ran it along the back of her arm, producing a light scratch. Not deep enough to bleed but it still stung. Vegeta had methodically sliced both arms to ribbons and hadn't betrayed any indication that he was in pain.
- The pain kept me grounded. It was the only thing that was familiar to me, he had confessed to her.
"Oh God!" She dropped the piece of lamp and cupped her face in her hands, wondering what was going to happen to him. What was going to happen to them both...?
As she compulsively searched for an answer, sleep was forgotten.
>>>>>
Six hours later, she appeared at the hospital for afternoon visiting hours. She found Vegeta awake and alert in his bed. As she had expected, he was also something else:
Livid.
He no more than took one look at her when the monitoring machine beside him detected a spike in his blood pressure and drugged him again before he could get out one word. When the doctor assigned to his care found out about it, he informed her that such variations of blood pressure at this stage in his recovery could be detrimental to his recovery. Like a little girl caught doing something wrong in school, he ordered her to go home.
Twenty-four hours later, Bulma stubbornly returned to his room, hovering around his slumbering form like an anxious wraith. She didn't need any type of a bond to tell her that her husband was furious with her for trapping him like this.
"-But what else can I do?" she muttered by his bedside, nervously playing with the Senzu bean between her fingers. She was a pale and harried shell of her former self, unable to sleep, barely able to eat, plagued by guilt and concern for her ailing mate.
He finally gave a low groan and began to stir. There was a band aide across the bridge of his nose and a smaller bandage over his injured left eye. The right one snapped open and immediately focused on her and right away, the sedation module chirped: "Blood pressure is beginning to approach pre-established parameters-"
She jumped to her feet and shut the device off before it could deliver the next debilitating dose. "I can't do this anymore, it isn't fair," she said.
- my jailer finally sees reason, came a low growl deep in her mind. When she looked down at him, she hadn't seen such hatred in his face since their days on Namek.
"I'm not your jailer," she said in a level voice.
- Could have fooled me. Look where I am.
"This is your fault you're here. You did this to yourself. Stop blaming me and accept some responsibility for once in your miserable life!"
- I know why I'm here. I also know you can get me out, but you won't.
"That's because you won't give me the promise I'm asking for. It's not a big request but you're being your usual damned stubborn-"
He passed her a frustrated wave of his bandaged arm. - Turn the fucking machine back on, he growled at her. - At least I'll be spared your eternal bitching-
Bulma suddenly slapped him. It wasn't hard, barely a tap, but his expression was frankly astonished. Before he could collect his thoughts to manage a response she cut in with: "You have to see things from my point of view, Vegeta! You were deliberately hurting yourself. What else am I supposed to do?"
He didn't answer her.
"All I'm asking is that you not do that to yourself anymore!" she shouted at him in desperation. "Why is that so hard for you to agree to?"
- What does it matter? Why don't you go off and watch Divorce Court and leave me in peace?
Her blue eyes widened in shock and, for an instant, guilt. She thought that Trunks might have voiced his concerns to his father, but knew that was impossible. Very cautiously, she asked him; "...What just possessed you to being up that?"
- I know you were thinking about it.
"Not... true," she said weakly, sitting down in the nearest chair. "Not-not now-"
- No. But when I was in training for my battle with Kakarrot-
"What do you expect?! You abandoned me for that fucking tournament," she hissed with alarming venom. "You didn't have a kind word for me for those two months. You wouldn't even touch me! I was starting to hate you."
-Good, it was working then... He managed one curt nod despite the neck brace and looked over at the television before she lunged towards him and grabbed both sides of his head.
"What did you say?!" she yelled down into his face. "What the hell are you talking about? Did you treat me like that on purpose? Why would you do such a terrible thing?!"
He fixed her with a chilling glare - You knew the date of Kami's vision was near just as I did. I wanted to ensure you would move on. I knew I wasn't coming back alive from that battle.
"Gokou would never have killed you-"
The sudden harsh look he passed her silenced her. - Everyone thinks the Desperation Attack I used to try and finish Buu was a spur of the minute idea. He gave as much of a shake of the head as the neck brace allowed. - It wasn't. I came up with that strategy over a month ago. I'd planned on taking Kakarrot to the grave with me, one way or the other-
"!!GOKOU WAS ALREADY DEAD, YOU IDIOT!!" she screamed directly down into his face. "He was only back on the Earth for 24 hours!"
- You're hurting my ears-
"SHUT UP!" she gripped the pillow on both sides of his head until her fingernails dug into the fabric with a death grip. "You put me through hell for those two months, you selfish prick! Why would you do something like that? What was the damned point of it all?!" Her brilliant blue eyes radiated rays of chilling fire and they bore down into Vegeta's bloodshot black one, demanding an explanation.
-Because I love you, came the calm response.
She recoiled as if he had physically slapped her. Her mouth worked in shock but no sound came out. She took a step away from the bed and regarded him as if he were a stranger. "You-you... what?" she whispered.
- I meant it. He tapped his temple with his finger; - Blame it on the residue of Kakarrot's sentimentality, but it's true. I love you, Bulma. And I knew it was time to let you go.
"I-I don't understand..."
- I was going to die- one way or another. I knew it was going to happen and I also knew that a 'selfish prick' like me didn't deserve to have someone like you pining away for me. Most importantly, YOU didn't deserve that.
"Vegeta-"
- But I wasn't counting on being brought back. I'm not the man I used to be. I ... don't know who I am anymore, and I don't want you here to see me like this.
Bulma knew about Dende's words to Shenron: "Bring back everyone who had died on Earth, except for the evil ones." Vegeta had been spared from eternal damnation, and all because of an aborted Potara Fusion that had given him just enough of Gokou's kindly spirit to be deemed acceptable by the Great Dragon. It was just as he was telling her now; Vegeta, The evil Prince of the Saiyans, was no more.
So who was he? There was so much pain and confusion to his metal sending that she realized not even he knew the answer and it was tearing him apart. Violence and sadism had defined the majority of his life; the memories were still there but the ambitions had been replaced by another man's feelings of remorse. The two emotions, among others equally unfamiliar, were like oil and water, unable to merge, and it was tearing him apart right down to the core of his being: The evil man he had been, now sharing the same space with his righteous rival.
"We'll work through this crisis, Vegeta. Just like we have before-"
- I won't ask you to stick around and nurse me back to health, Bulma. Not this time. Not again. You deserve better-
Unable to hear anymore, she cut in with: "You're not thinking clearly right now. Things will work themselves out. They always do. All you have to do is promise me that you won't cut yourself anymore. After that, we can go-"
-I just said that I love you! He shouted at her. Do you need any more proof than that to finally understand that something is seriously wrong with me? How can I make a promise to you when I don't even know who I am anymore?
"You have to see things from the bright side-"
Exasperated, he looked away from her. - I'm through talking. I'm tired. Go home, Bulma.
"But-"
- Please, he said and squeezed his eye shut.
She stood helplessly from her position beside the bed, gearing up for a tirade when a nurse entered the room and took quick stock of the equipment. "Did you turn this off, Mrs. Briefs?" she asked, examining the sedation module.
"I-I- uh..."
The nurse flashed her a disapproving glare and turned it back on. The machine released a shrill whistle and the electronic voice immediately buzzed; "Blood pressure has far-exceeded acceptable parameters. Sedation pre-dose now being-"
Bulma couldn't bear to watch him go through this again. Looking down, she stared at the Senzu trapped in her sweaty palm and forced herself to place it gently upon his chest. Before succumbing to the drugs, Vegeta squinted at the bean and then looked up at her.
"I love you, too," she whispered, and kissed him directly on the mouth. His eye drifted closed during the tender act just as the module trilled: "-Sedation sequence finished. Sweet dreams." Bulma reluctantly left the room with mixed emotions. She realized that she had either given him his freedom or sealed his doom, and she was too confused to know what to do about either scenario.
For that entire evening, Bulma lied on her side of the bed and gripped her cell phone in one trembling hand. She was waiting for the stunned call from the hospital that would be raving on about Vegeta's miraculous recovery.
She knew that he wouldn't be able to chew the Senzu bean but he had several broken teeth during his skirmishes with Buu that he could slip it through one of the gaps and swallow it whole. It would probably take much longer for his system to heal as the bean broke down in his stomach, but the process would be certainly finished by now. Would he come home? She had kept him trapped in a hospital bed against his will; severing Sihs'kar- his trust in her. Would he forgive her or give up on her? He was so different now she had no way of predicting what he might do.
- I love you, he had told her. Finally! The proclamation that she had so longed to hear from her husband at long, long last! She should have felt vindicated that her patience had finally won out; Flattered that she had finally tamed the feral Prince. The words should have filled her with joy and hope for their future together.
Instead, they scared her half to death. It was like some twisted deathbed confessional and those three little words followed her down into her troubled sleep and haunted her dreams.
>>>>>
There was no call from the hospital that entire night. When she went down to breakfast the following morning, she faced her parents and Trunks and tentatively asked; "Has anyone seen Vegeta?"
The boy's eyes brightened. "He's coming home today?"
I hope so, she thought and forced a smile on her pale face. "Yes, he should be arriving soon..."
"Cool," he piped up, and attacked his scrambled eggs with renewed gusto.
She went downstairs to her office, glowering at the stack of proposals, forms, and messages that were stacked on her desk. She had been neglecting her duties as the Company President and this day was no different. Clearing aside some debris, she found the phone and called the hospital to find out when Vegeta had left the building.
Her eyes widened when she was informed that he was still there.
>>>>>
When she burst into the room less than fifteen minutes later, she found him still in his hospital bed, placidly watching the television and sucking on a glass of water through the straw. She was out of breath from her mad rush to the hospital and barely able to believe it when he looked over at her, completely unfazed by her sudden appearance. He was still in his body cast, still wearing his bandages and splints-
"You didn't take the Senzu," she choked out, glancing at the bean lying on the nightstand beside the hospital bed. "Why?"
- Why bother? What good would it do? he asked listlessly.
She looked at him as if she didn't understand the question. "It would heal you! You wouldn't have to suffer your injuries anymore."
- The Senzu would heal my body but what about up here? He pointed to his head. - That's the part that's damaged the most and the Senzu won't help it.
"How do you know that?"
- I just do, he said and looked away. - So why bother taking it if I can't be whole again?
"How about for Trunks? For me? We miss you, Vegeta. We want you to come back home."
He snorted. - What's home to me now? Capsule Corp.? Or some hovel at the base of Mount Pazou?
She sat back in exasperation. "You're not making any sense. This is no different than when Frieza's poison damaged your mind. You just need some time to shake it off-"
He gripped his head and raged: - It's been two fucking weeks! It's not getting any better!
"You have to give it time," she persisted.
- Even if the memories fade, I'll still no longer be who I used to be. Instead of being an Elite, I'm now some bastardized hybrid of Third-class trash. I feel like I've been rolled around in manure and that feeling is inside of me! I can't get it out!
The monitoring equipment released a beep and stated: "Blood pressure has just exceeded acceptable parameters-"
- FUCK! Vegeta shouted in frustration.
Bulma ran around to the side of the bed and shut the machine off before it could finish its sedation sequence. As it was, he still received a hefty dose of the narcotic and she cradled his face between her hands as he struggled to stay awake. "You're going to be okay, Vegeta. Do you hear me? We're going to get through this together."
His eyelid fluttered and he focused on her with difficulty. -why do you worry so much about me? he asked her bleakly. - why do you even bother to care?
"Vegeta, not again-"
- you'd be better off with kakarrot, he mumbled, - i saw how things were between you two... maybe a wish can set things right.
It was the drug talking, Bulma told herself as the Saiyan continued his bewildered mental rambling. He was more asleep than awake, randomly projecting thoughts that he normally kept hidden and buried. For the first time since he had crashed through the windshield of her hoverjet, she felt chilled to the bone.
- he'd treat you better than I ever could... you'd be happier with him, he persisted. - if you want to begin the rite of divorce... i won't stop you-
She lightly slapped his unmarked cheek and said directly, "I won't hear one more damned thing about a divorce! You are my husband, Vegeta. I love you! You're Trunks' father. This has nothing to do with Gokou. He's always leaving his family behind for some stupid reason or another. You? You are always right here."
He searched her face for any trace of deception and she watched as a tear spilled from his one good eye and tracked slowly down his bruised cheek, -... i haven't got anywhere else to go... he confessed in a small voice.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>
To be continued...