Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Obsession ❯ Lost Soul ( Chapter 19 )

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

Disclaimer--I don't own the song 'Do what you have to do' by Sarah Mclachlan (featured at the end).

WARNING--Disturbing imagery used in the opening.

-

-

A black night surrounded him.

He was in a room, a room where the walls seemed to breathe. A metallic smell hit his nostrils, whirling through his senses like an uncontrollable tornado, almost bringing him to his knees. He had killed billions, travelled the universe and had never been affected before by anything, so why was the foul smell causing his eyes to water now?

He had tried everything imaginable to see where he was, but he just didn't know. Even his Saiyan vision was disabled in this dark room. All around, the unstable walls suffocated him, forcing him to breathe in the pungent smell of something putrid and acidic. He groped the walls blindly, stumbling through the darkness.

They were slick and warm, as though they had just been freshly painted.

Slowly, he began to recognise and pin point the nauseating smell that permeated the air he was breathing.

It was blood.

By a divine grace's intervention, the sense of sight was slowly restored to him. The room was now flooded with a bright, white light, illuminating the enclosed space he stood in. As his pupils dilated and adjusted, he focused his eyes on the white gloves that covered his hands.

But they were no longer white; they were stained with blood.

It was then that he dared to raise his head, slowly taking in his surroundings with all the poise of a drunken man. The walls, the floor, the ceiling, everything in the room was bathed, painted, in cherry red blood.

Thick rivulets of blood ran down the walls in rivers, imitating the blood tears of a celestial being crying for the loss of a loved one. The furniture was strewn haphazardly across the room, as though an epic battle had stormed through, leaving only a blood bath in its wake.

There was no object in the room that he could grasp for support without continuing to stain his hands with the potent liquid. He looked wildly around for an escape, when a soft whimper caused him to turn around. There, at the centre of the room, in the storm of blood and destruction, stood a large bed.

Cautiously treading towards the bed, a lump formed in his throat as he caught sight of the body that lay upon it. That familiar cerulean and cream body that he had lusted to touch and taste every waking hour on Earth, now lay quietly in the middle of the bed, naked as the day she was born.

He slowly walked up to the side of the bed, staring in awe at beautiful sight displayed before him. His eyes greedily roamed the gentle curves of her breasts, sliding down her flat stomach to the sacred valley that dipped down between her legs.

The blood in the room no longer existed as he gazed at the pale, fragile woman laying on the sturdy wooden bed, untouched by the violence that had occurred around it. She was a vision of beauty, of crystal blue purity. And in the blood red room, she was the only thing that had remained untouched, with her alabaster skin glowing like a beacon of light, concealing untold promises.

Her arms were spread out either side of her and her legs were slightly crossed over one another. The image reminded of a haunting picture he had seen in his time on Earth, of a man nailed to a cross with a crown of thorns upon his brow. She had called it the man's crucifixion, if he remembered correctly.

She made no move to acknowledge him, simply remained in that position and stared at the ceiling. Her wide blue eyes, normally sparkling and vibrant were now empty and lifeless, as if her soul had been drained or leeched through them. He blinked as he focused once more on the dull blue eyes. She would have been a perfect vision had it not been for those two cerulean orbs that radiated nothing but a cold, hard glare.

He couldn't allow her to remain like that! Where was the fire? Where was the passion that burned in those eyes? This was not the woman he knew...

"Bulma?"

The whispered name left his lips before he could stop himself.

She did not move.

Panic flourished within him as he stared at the still body, no signs of life coursing through her veins, no pounding of the heart nor the slow steady strum of a pulse that indicated she was alive... He blinked continuously, desperately trying to quell the fear rising through his subconscious.

"Bulma!" He found himself calling out loudly this time.

Still, she did not move.

He clenched his fists and growled in annoyance. He raised his clenched fist, ready to shake the serene yet disturbing image of the woman.

The moment his gloved hand fell upon her shoulder, the still body came to life.

She arched her back violently and screeched up at the ceiling like a wild cat under attack. The high pitched wails of her screams caused him to wince and recoil from her side as she thrashed and twisted her body on the crisp white sheets.

He watched in sick fascination as blood pooled in her cerulean eyes, running down her temples like thin rivers, all the while screaming and wailing like a furious banshee as she cried her blood tears.

A shiver raced down his spine as he took another step back from the bed, apprehensive of the crazed woman upon the bed. Not once did she stop her pained wails and soon enough, he found himself covering his ears with his stained, gloved hands.

"Shit!! Stop it! Fucking hell, STOP SCREAMING!" He found himself roaring over the din of her voice as his hands remained pinned to his ears.

By some miracle, the screams from the woman slowly subsided. He lowered his hands from his ears, shaking his head at the ringing that still vibrated in them. Glaring at the prone body, he slowly began to make his way to the bed, ready for another onslaught of screams. Minutes ticked by as he stared down at the body. This was not his woman; this was some strange replica of her, one that he clearly had no connection with.

A warm drop of liquid splattered onto his cheek like a fallen dew drop. His eyes widened as he looked up. Drops of blood from the ceiling had begun to accumulate to the centre of the room, where the bed was. To his horror, he looked on helplessly as the rain drops of blood began to pour down onto her body, drenching her from head to toe in the sticky substance.

She opened her mouth scream again, only this time her throat began to fill up before she force out the scream. Terrified, he watched her gurgle and choke on the blood that filled her mouth.

He willed himself to move her away from the bed, away from the blood; to help her, but he couldn't move--he just couldn't move...

- -

Vegeta growled as he shot up from the warm, hard bed. With a frenzied gaze, he took in his surroundings, a wave of relief lapping across his subconscious as his panting breath slowly returned to normal.

"Ouji-sama?"

He shook his head, as if to cleanse himself from the lingering effects of the dream. He soon recognized Radt's baritone voice floating from the intercom built into the wall of his chambers, bringing him to attention.

"What?" He ground out, massaging his throbbing temples in small circular motions to relieve the pressure. That dream--that freakish nightmare of a vision...

"We've landed, your highness." The quiet reply came.

Vegeta heard the barest hint of concern in the Saiyan's voice and almost growled out in anger.

When he didn't reply, Radt continued to speak, "Do we have permission to leave the vessel or do wish to be first to leave?"

The question left a dull ache in his chest, spreading like an ebony cancer. It was time to face--

Everything.

- -

I was drowning.

Drowning...

It's as though I've been placed in a glass tank, filled to the brim with murky sea water, and it stings my eyes. But there is nothing I can do about it. I could see, but I couldn't see clearly. Everything was just beyond my reach, and I was trying desperately to claw myself towards that minor shred of sanity I saw lingering before my eyes. Towards the real world that held so much pain and suffering; but that was the one place I could react. I couldn't do that here, in this glass tank.

It was like I was there... But then I wasn't. I tried so hard to speak, to say something, to scream out; anything to rid myself of this agony...

Had I known that what had happened would be the result of my sacrifice, I would have left Gohan to die. I would never in a million years be able to compare the agony and torment I felt.

I can still feel his cold, metallic hands on me, gliding roughly down my legs, over my curves...

This pain... This pain won't go away. It hurts so much, as though someone is stabbing me with an invisible weapon; and there is nothing I can about it. Nothing.

I watch them, I watch them watching me, I watch them cry for me. I want to tell them I'm here! That I'm alive, but they mourn me as though I'm dead to them. They think I can't hear what they say... But I know everything; I'm not lost to them, not yet. I tried to be strong and fight. I tried to fight my way to the surface; but it's too hard.

Besides, I'm finally beginning to realize that I can endure the suffering.

I can cast the pain away; it comes and goes in waves, along with the memories, the memories I want to, would do if I could, to scratch them out from my mind with my bare hands. But then the pain goes and I'm left with nothing. No feelings, no conscience--nothing.

I liked the silence...

I liked the silence compared to the inner roar of my soul that threatened to rip my heart apart, as the screams and shrieks were ready to burst from my throat. But nothing would come out and I would be left with a raw, burning sensation in my throat and my heart would feel like it was breaking into a million pieces all over again; an endless cycle... Every single day.

Compared to that, who wouldn't like the silence?

I know that if I stepped into the real world, if I reached out to that one shred of sanity before me, my screams would never end; would never stop suffocating me until I choked to death.

They would forgive me if I stayed in this silence, I know they would. It's for the best.

I didn't want them to mourn for me, but there is no way I can pull myself back for them, without destroying myself...

And so I choose;

I choose to willingly remain drowning--Forever.

- -

It was all his fault.

He was the reason her face remained a blank canvas, the reason she didn't remember, or chose not to remember any of them. Not even her son. She had lost her senses, all because she had decided to save him... Save him from the Androids so that he could save everyone else. She had always been selfless, ever since the threat of the Androids had come about. And now...

It was all his fault.

If he hadn't gone out to fight, raging at the world and his existence--at her love for another man; she wouldn't have gone through those torturous three days at the hands of the Androids.

Three days in the captivity of the Androids. Three days until he was fully healed to go and save her...

Three days in which he had finally brought about the destruction of the Earth's tormentors--after he had seen what they had done to her... He had saved the Earth, but he had been too late to save her soul from straying down its destructive path. Her self-loathing was slowly eating away at her, day by day, night by night; all because of him.

They hated him. Her family--hated him for being so reckless, for putting her life in danger... For putting her sanity in danger. She was barely holding herself together before that fateful day three months ago. Now she was... She was lost to them and there was no way to bring her back.

Gods he loved her. Still did. And seeing her heart in pain for the past three months was killing him.

After he had destroyed the Androids, there was no reason to stay in Ground Zero. Even though the facility had saved many peoples' lives, it had become a cage. A cage in which everyone was desperate to escape. He returned to the control room of Ground Zero, with his precious cargo cradled in his arms and told every single human standing in that room--that they were free.

Free.

They could finally go above ground and see the sky, see the sun burning brightly like a precious yellow African diamond.

There had been much rejoicing for that fact, but there had also been grieving... Grieving for Bulma's condition and state of mind.

She had sacrificed herself to save them all, so that they could have a future. A future above ground; a future where they could feel the gentle breeze caress their skins, where their children could finally play without fear of pain... Fear of death.

She had given them all hope. And for what price?

Herself.

As Gohan stared at the blank blue eyes that bore into his own, he flinched as his mind took him three months back, into the past... To a day in which this woman, this tiny fragile woman sitting and staring at him mutely in the chair before him, had saved his life.

-----

Pain. There was so much pain. He had never felt such bone-crushing agony in his life. It spread through his veins like wild fire; seizing his heart with its intensity.

He was vaguely aware, almost conscious of the events occurring around him. Something soft was being wrapped around his wrist. In the background he could hear harsh laughter coming from the two Androids; he could hear their amused conversation as he lay in a pool of his own blood and bones.

"I didn't know humans could look so... Inviting."

The cold male voice of the Android sent a shiver down his spine. No; this wasn't happening... Any moment now, he was going to wake up in his room and be a ten year old boy without a care in the world. He would even do his homework without complaint to assure himself that this was some horrible nightmare concocted from the overactive imagination of a young boy...

"I wouldn't know," came the bored reply from the female Android.

He could hear them, but he couldn't see them! Where were they?!

"Do you think she tastes as good as she looks?" The male Android enquired again.

"How the fuck should I know?" The female one snapped with a cool irritated snarl, "After we kill the Saiyan pest, you can take her and find out. Why don't you just fucking kill him and get it over with? What's the point of watching this human pine over her injured lover. Disgusting creatures, the lot of them..." He could hear the sneer in her voice.

It was then that he recognized a familiar, soothing voice; one that was at that moment, cursing profanity into his ear that would have sent even the most evil of creatures running from her.

"Fuck, why isn't this shitty piece of crap working!!" The hissing voice ripped through his ear drums, causing him to wince.

Bulma...

The Android was talking about Bulma.

He couldn't let the piece of metallic shit take her! He couldn't--

He opened his mouth to speak, but only a croak managed to leave his lips. Why hadn't he listened to her? Why did his anger fuel his actions? They wouldn't have been in this dangerous situation if it hadn't been for him. If he died now... There would be no hope for the Earth.

But Trunks was alive! Sweet mercy of Kami, Trunks was alive... He would save them, the boy would be victorious, where he had failed. Failed in an act of stupidity.

He had misjudged his strength, his weakness from fighting straight after his dismissal from the fabricated 'Room of Spirit and Time', and now he was paying for that fatal mistake.

Paying for his arrogance...

-----

Gohan shivered as he forced himself out of the reverie, looking at the rounded cherry lips of the blue-haired scientist.

Of course, he had later been told by Bulma's father that the teleportation watch she had initially taken for him, didn't work.

In the end, she had given up her own watch to him and sent him back to the safety of the underground laboratory...

For the next three days, every single person in Ground Zero had waited in agony for him to recover his full strength after coming out of the 'Room of Spirit and Time.' Those three days had been the longest of his life. Not even the years in Ground Zero could have compared to the hard, agonising moments of those days, laying immobile and wondering... Wondering if she was even alive.

He had healed to the best extent he could, all the while worrying about the woman he loved.

The satellite signals had become distorted due to the teleportation disruptions... Another problem he had caused. And because of that, Bulma's father was unable to pin point her location using the satellite technology of Ground Zero. They couldn't even check on her.

And it was a good thing too. He didn't think the old doctor would have been able to stomach the horrific crimes committed towards his daughter. It was a safe bet that he would have had a stroke.

He had found her alive, barely, hidden in a cave after he had honed in on her ki. The Androids were not there, but if they had been, he was sure he would have killed them there and then.

Her hair hung limply down to her shoulders in tangles and knots. She was surprisingly not dirty, although her skin held a shaded pallor that even he could recognize was not healthy; a sickly gray color. But it was her eyes that had caught his attention. The sparkling blue had paled, no longer glowing in their luminescence or vivacity.

They were hollow, yet moving. And when they landed upon him, he felt a cold dread seize his heart and squeeze with all its power.

She looked dead. She was dead. A living corpse.

What in the name of hell had they done to her? He noticed her ripped clothing, barely covering her naked body. He saw the bruises that marred the tops of her thighs and arms, covering her body with black and blue blotches that howled at him in their silent pain.

And then, he had screamed.

He had roared until the walls of the cave began to tremble and chunks of rocks began to shower him like a warm summer rain. She didn't seem to recognize him, or acknowledge him. She didn't bat an eyelash when he roared in pain... Merely stared at him with those hollow, dead eyes.

What he had seen that day was enough to send him over the edge, into the silent yet maddening pool of power he had no control over.

Then, the Androids had come, hearing the disturbance in the area... And, and he had ripped them apart. He had torn at them limb for metallic limb, not even giving them a chance to counter attack. They had done this to her! The male Android with his dark hair and ice blue eyes had defiled her and torn her apart in a way that would remain with her for the rest of her life... In a way that would haunt her to the end of her days...

But there were no more Androids. He had destroyed them; all for her... In the end, everything was about her.

Even now, sitting in the chair across from the beautiful woman, three months on from the horrific event, he felt his blood boil. The light had not returned to her eyes and she still spoke to no-one, not even Trunks. The poor boy was beside himself with worry, and there was nothing he could do about it.

She was a walking, breathing puppet. And it had killed him everyday to see her that way.

He took a deep breath, and for the first time in an hour, he spoke.

"Trunks is improving in his training," he said lightly, forcing his demeanour to brighten. "He's getting to be really skilful with his sword."

When she didn't answer, he looked at her, a lingering sadness forming in his chocolate brown eyes. She merely looked at him with her dull, lifeless eyes, not moving from the chair she sat in.

Dr. Briefs had restored Capsule Corp. back to its original form in only a matter of weeks after the Androids' demise. Bulma's room apparently looked exactly as it had done eight years ago, before the Androids had arrived. The doctor had thought it would be beneficial if she was in familiar surroundings, but Gohan wasn't seeing any improvement.

The only improvement he had seen was physical. Her bruises had faded away like the golden leaves of an Autumn long forgotten, but he knew--knew that the emotional scars would never heal.

He heard the door open behind him and he sighed. His visit for the day was over. But he would visit her for the rest of his life if it meant he could just sit there and watch her... Just to make sure she was still breathing, still alive in some strange and bizzare way.

"Gohan?" Mrs. Briefs soft voice called out to him and he stood from the uncomfortable wooden chair, he was amazed again at how quickly everything had been restored to normal in Capsule Corp. Dr. Briefs had certainly prepared for the worse... And it was a good thing he had. When they had reached the surface to check on what was left of the derelict world, they had found nothing but rubble where Capsule Corp. had once been...

But now, now the mansion was up again and rebuilt to its original splendour.

The Briefs' were lucky. Others had returned to their homes, to find nothing but derelict and decayed buildings and houses. And some had found nothing but a crater, where their houses had once been.

Nearly all of Earth's population had been destroyed, only two-hundred thousand people remained...

"Is everything all right Mrs. Briefs?" He looked at the older woman and frowned. The time under ground had been hardest on her. She had suffered the most out of all of them. And now, to have her only daughter in such a condition... It was truly heart breaking to see this bright, vivacious woman, reduced to the quiet creature she had become.

She smiled at him hesitantly. "Everything's fine. It's time for Bulma's rest now, you can come and see her again tomorrow."

It seemed she still hadn't forgotten that it was his fault her daughter was in this stupored state. But she didn't blame him; not like Bulma's father. Trunks hadn't understood, and so he was still in good graces with the now eight year old, but Bulma's father... The doctor had told him outright that he was responsible and that he should suffer the consequences. And he did, every single day...

Gohan forced himself to smile, "Ok Mrs. Briefs, I'll come by tomorrow and..." He trailed off as his eyes widened in disbelief.

A tremor ran through his body and he closed his eyes.

"Gohan dear, are you ok?" He heard the concerned woman's voice echo in the background.

But all he was focused on was the strong, recognizable ki of a warrior... A warrior he thought had disappeared for good.

Along with that single ki, he concentrated more and to his disbelief, found that there were over a thousand strong ki's clustered in one area towards the north-east, three hundred miles away. They were definitely not human... It could only mean one thing. He felt Vegeta's ki begin to move away from the cluster of ki's and suddenly Gohan knew where he would be coming... Capsule Corporation.

"Vegeta," he growled out quietly, clenching his fists. He sent a concerned glance to the silent woman on the chair, but noted that she made no movement, or showed any interest. The Saiyan had grown strong... But he wasn't strong enough to defeat him. "Keep her in here, and out of sight," he barked at Bulma's mother, barely glancing in the woman's direction.

As he started to stride out of the house, he left Mrs. Briefs standing in the middle of the room with her mouth open in shock.

"Gohan-sensei! Gohan-sensei!" He paused in the hallway and turned around to see Trunks jumping up and down.

"Do you feel that?" The enthusiastic youth almost shouted, hopping from one foot to the other.

"I feel it," he replied gravely, "Stay here Trunks, I'm going to engage this... Person, alone." He could have sworn that they young boy almost pouted at the prospect of his fighting being squandered. Even with his mother's traumatic condition, he still remained positive; certain that she would one day be better again. Gohan wished he had the boy's optimism.

"Are you sure you want to go alone?" The young boy remarked with a quiet voice, his blue eyes solemn and questioning.

Gohan hesitated for a moment and nodded, "Look after your mother."

A reasoning lightened the boy's eyes and he silently nodded his consent, before resuming his path to his mother's room.

Gohan sighed, his shoulders slumping. He was only eight and had the entire world resting on his shoulders; he could see himself mirrored in that boy... So young, but no longer innocent. He clenched his jaw as he felt the Saiyan Prince's power level grow stronger, coming directly towards Capsule Corp.

For an unexplainable reason; he felt rage. How dare the bastard come back after abandoning everyone! After abandoning Bulma... With a renewed purpose, he strode out of the restored mansion to meet the Saiyan Prince head on.

- -

He had been the first to step out of the space craft onto the Earthling soil. They had landed about three hundred miles from Capsule Corporation and--

Vegeta scanned the area, a scowl forming on his face.

Something wasn't right.

There was something...

"This is the planet Earth, Ouji-sama?" Rhuba questioned with a slight sneer on his face. The surrounding area wasn't anything compared to Bejiita-sei. The entire planet seemed like it was crumbling in ruin; a waste of space--literally.

Vegeta ignored the idiotic question as he looked around, frowning fiercely at the piece of land that the space craft had been grounded upon. This place... This place had been an ecosystem teeming with wild life and greenery. But now there was nothing. It was as though the entire area had been cleared out by a ki blast... A very large ki blast.

"Ouji-sama--"

"Quiet!" He snapped, raising his hand angrily as he inspected the area.

Rhuba shut his mouth, sending a his older brother a glance of confusion. The rest of the Saiyans were still on the space ship, awaiting orders from their Prince. Why wasn't he commanding them to move?

Vegeta raised his head to the sky and opened up his mind slowly, searching out for the familiar ki's of the Z Senshi.

There was nothing... Except one.

He then searched for Bulma's certain ki signature and found it. It was so small, barely recognizable and laughably small; but it was there with the familiar ki, that seemed exceptionally stronger than before.

He growled unconsciously, "Stay here, don't move from the ship; I will return shortly."

The elder Saiyan of the two nodded his consent, "As you wish your highness."

Without a backward glance, Vegeta flared his aura and sprung into the air with a mighty leap. A small nagging sensation burned in the back of his mind, telling him to stay alert.

He snarled, flying even faster towards the familiar ki signature at Capsule Corporation. It was on the move; moving from Bulma's side. The little shit knew he was here. Oh well, it didn't matter.

As he flew over the landscape, he noticed that everything that had once been green, brown and blue, had either been burned to ashes or destroyed to rubble. Had nearly eight years changed so much of this once beautiful planet?

Large craters now marred the landscape, igniting Vegeta's suspicion further. Curiosity at hand, he stretched his mind further, allowing the many different ki that belonged to the human population, to ignite and flourish like beacons in his subconscious.

Barely two-hundred thousand sparked in his mind, when there should have been at least seven billion, if not more...

There was definitely something very, very wrong.

It had taken him only a few seconds to reach the Capsule Corporation compound. He knew that he would have a welcoming party when he returned. It was a good thing that he didn't feel like being welcomed; because the next thing he saw was a ki ball hurtling its way toward him.

Powering up, he pushed his power forwards and knocked the fiery blue ball away, landing in the process.

As he looked at the culprit that had dealt him the welcoming blow, Vegeta couldn't help but feel a scowl twist his lips.

"You'll pay for that you little shit. Who the fuck are you?" He snarled, trying to read the ki of the man before him. When he couldn't sense it, he growled. The fuck was hiding his ki from him; what a coward!

The strangely familiar man grinned at him, an odd glint flashing through his eyes. "What's the matter Vegeta-sama, don't you recognize me?"

"How do you know me?" He asked, frowning at the sarcastic tone of the familiar human. "I'm going to make this easy for you; who are you and what are you doing here?"

The man grinned again, his brown eyes flashing in anger and amusement. "Shouldn't I be asking you that question? I was wondering--"

"Oh my goodness!!"

A soft female voice interrupted the man, causing Vegeta to tilt his head so that he could see the owner of the voice.

It was Bulma's mother.

He stopped himself from almost smirking. The blonde-haired harpy had aged greatly in the past seven or eight years. He couldn't begin to fathom the pain she must be going through on a daily basis due to that knowledge. The woman was always worried about her looks. He wondered what had caused the wrinkled lines to appear on the smooth forehead that had been there only four months ago... Well, almost eight years to her.

She scuttled over to the man's side, staring at him in wide-eyed awe. "Gohan, is that really Vegeta?" She asked as though she couldn't believe what her eyes were seeing. She knew, knew that he was the one person that could help her daughter!

Vegeta frowned as he caught the whispered question. What the fuck? Gohan?! He squinted his eyes and glared at the 'man' that was supposed to be Kakarott's only son. Yes... He could see the resemblance. It was him! Why hadn't he caught it sooner? He cursed himself for being too distracted to notice the obvious comparison.

But how had he grown so much? He was only supposed to be seventeen or eighteen by now! At the moment he looked like a fully grown man, like himself. Nothing made sense! "What is going on here?" He snarled at the pair that stood before him.

He was surprised and furious when Gohan sneered at him.

"What do you want? Why are you here?" Gohan demanded, ignoring the piercing gaze of the man he would never equal... Not in Bulma's eyes.

"Where is your father brat?" He hissed in reply.

Bulma's mother frowned and took a tentative step closer towards the irate Saiyan Prince. "He's dead, dear. He has been for the last seven years." She whispered softly, allowing the heavy words to linger between them.

Gohan could have sworn he saw a change in Vegeta's pallor of skin. He could even see the rare glimpse of confusion on the normally stoic face. His anger began to fade slightly. The man seemed genuinely... Confused.

"What do you mean he's dead? How could he have--" He stopped himself then. He knew how; it was the Androids. Vegeta saw the fury that had blazed in Gohan's eyes, slowly dissipate.

"He died fighting the Androids," Gohan looked away into the distance, unwilling to focus his eyes on the Saiyan Prince. "He contracted his heart disease whilst he was fighting and--and they killed him before we could get him away..."

"Poor Goku," Mrs. Briefs chimed in sadly.

"There weren't just two Androids," Gohan continued, "There were four of them."

Vegeta clenched his fists to his side, slowly feeling the anger bubble in the pit of his stomach. Because of his miscalculations and eagerness to return to his race, his victory had been taken away by the metallic pieces of junk! He was supposed to defeat the third-class Saiyan, not them! It should have been his glory...

But along with the anger, there was also a remorse. He would no longer be surpassed in strength, he would no longer have a challenge to live up to...

"And the rest?" He found himself asking, even though he had no wish to do so.

Gohan shook his head, "Dead. All of them."

The pained words enveloped the trio standing awkwardly in the front portion of the mansion, their icy meaning sending a shiver down the older woman's spine.

"Two of the Androids turned on the other two, they destroyed them... It was enough for myself and Bulma to escape."

Vegeta's ears piqued at the mention of his woman. "She was there." He stated furiously. Trust her to do something so foolish as to put herself in danger!

Gohan nodded grimly and spoke on, "The two Androids have destroyed the entire world; they burned hundreds of countries to the ground. We, the remaining survivors, banded together and have been living underground for almost eight years now. It's only been a few months since I destroyed them," he whispered, closing his eyes as he relived the pain of the past three months.

Vegeta raised his eyebrow at that. They must have been living in Ground Zero...

"We'd better go inside and discuss this, I think Vegeta would like to know everything that has been happening in the past few years." Mrs. Briefs said quietly, sighing as she shifted from foot to foot. It was going to be a long, long day for all of them.

The Saiyan Prince almost choked as he heard the first wise words come from the normally vacuous woman before him.

It was amazing what several years of torment could do to a person. Seven years underground... It was reason enough to drive any person insane with that kind of fear and torture.

Just look at him; he had lived through twenty years of it and had come out unscathed. At least, he thought he was as unscathed as he could be.

The trio made their way inside, and Vegeta prepared himself to hear of their time at the hands of the Androids. He was relieved to hear that Bulma was alive and well, he didn't know how he would have reacted if she had...

He shook his head; perhaps he would also mention what had happened to him.

He was never one for gatherings, but for the moment he was willing to listen to the events that had occurred.

- -

Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Shit.

"Woman?" He heard himself say softly to the lifeless creature sitting on the chair in front of him.

They had told him everything.

Everything.

They had told him how she had come to be this way. The Androids... They had done this to her!! He felt an uncontrollable rage swirl around him in a deadly aura of anger and helplessness. By the will of Gods... How could this be the same woman he had left on the planet Dran only a few months ago?

She had changed--changed so much that he could barely recognize her. Her appearance remained the same, save for the black smudges that lay under her eyes and a few lines that were carved into her face, that had not been there before.

But her spirit had changed! Her fiery, tempestuous spirit that he had known and grown to--to...

He growled with unbidden fury. How dare that Android touch what was his!! How dare he lay one fucking finger on his mate!! According to Gohan, she been defiled and violated to such an unrecognizable state, that she had pushed him over the edge and in the end, it had been Gohan who had saved her from them. But he was also the reason she was even captured!

When he had heard that part, he was ready to kill the boy... No, man. It seemed that Bulma's ingenuity had saved them all. Without her, Gohan would never have obtained the strength to defeat the Androids had it not been for her fabricated 'Room of Spirit and Time'. He was furious with Gohan for being so careless as to endanger her life, and yet he was also slightly thankful because without him, she wouldn't have even been alive at that moment.

He prayed to the seven hells that he could will the Androids to come alive again, just so that he could have the pleasure and revenge of killing them again! He would have turned those robotic fucks into tin foil! If he had just been there...

Gohan and Bulma's mother had left no stone unturned as they spoke of the years they had spent in Ground Zero. He had a son... A son! A boy that had just recently turned eight years old... In the span of three months, his son had almost outgrown his childhood.

He was still reeling from the news.

A son, a son... A son!!

He had no idea he had left her pregnant on Dran. If he had known, he would have taken her with him and he would have damned the Androids to hell. He would never have left her to suffer this fate... A fate worse than death.

She had been--raped, hurt beyond tolerance. Her mind and body both.

What was he going to do about his son? He hadn't met the boy yet; didn't want to for fear the boy would hate him for leaving his mother. He had been such a fool to even get her pregnant! How could he not have known?

If he could just take the past few months back... None of this would have ever happened.

After they had told him what had happened, he had demanded to see her; see if they were lying or embellishing about her condition.

And now as he sat alone with her in the room, he knew it wasn't a lie...

It was true. It was all true.

Vegeta raised his hand slightly, daring to stretch his finger to stroke the softly curved cheek of her pale ivory skin. A jolt of electricity shot through his veins, boiling the blood that was slowly being pumped to his heart. He brushed his ungloved finger against her cheek again, knowing that there was no one in the room but her and him...

When she made no response to his action and just stared at him silently, unblinking, he cursed to himself in a hushed voice.

She didn't look like she recognised him, not even in the slightest. He could have been an insect for all she knew or cared!

"Dammit," he swore again, to no one in particular.

Vegeta felt a heavy weight press down onto his chest. He didn't know what it was; he just knew that it hurt... Hurt more than any ki blast or punch that he had received in the past years of his life.

Not even his death with Frieza had been this painful...

What was wrong with her? Why wasn't she reacting to anything around her? It was as though she had been separated from this world by a sheet of glass.

As he stared into her eyes, a haunting chill wrapped around him and squeezed until he couldn't breathe.

He had seen those same hollow, lifeless eyes in his dream...

"No!" He hissed, standing up so that he could pace the room. "It's not possible!" He mumbled to himself, casting a glance back at the silent woman on the chair.

She had not moved, nor looked up at him; simply remained staring in front of her like a lifeless doll...

He had a right mind to shake her, yell at her, but he knew it wouldn't help.

But what could he do?!

What could he do?

He stopped pacing; he knew what he could do.

-

I can see him... Was it really him? Did he really come back?

I never thought that he would; I thought he would be gone forever--Forever. The pain in my heart was coming back again.

His touch... Oh Gods, his touch.

He can reach me; even in this place--this place of silence, he can rouse me from my slumber.

I want him to go away. Why can't he leave me alone; why must he always haunt me?

I'm afraid that if he stays for too long, I'll come back and, and I don't want to face another lifetime of heartache and pain. I like the silence. I like the numbness.

He moves out of my vision, and now I can't see him. Where did he go? Was he leaving me again? How could he do this to me! I want to kill him, I want to rip him apart and sprinkle the green grass of the Earth with his blood and wear his organs as prize-winning jewellery!!

Why is he back now, after all these years?! WHY?!

I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.

I love him.

-

What ravages of spirit,

Conjured this temptuous rage.

Created you a monster,

Broken by the rule of love?

And fate has led you through it.

You do what you have to do.

And I have the sense to recognize,

That I don't know how to let you go.

I don't know how to let you go...