Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Red Window ❯ Brutal ( Chapter 15 )

The fusion reappeared far from the ship, landing quietly in the brush of a foliage-covered area on a large planet. “This…is truly bizarre,” he murmured, looking over himself. A tail flicked behind him. “I am neither Prince Vegeta…nor Queen Vegeta…but certainly just as Vegeta as either of them…or more so,” as he flexed his hand, electricity danced over it, and a dark smirk covered his face. He let his power drop until he had returned to his base state, and the suppressed it further, crouching in the vegetation and poising himself to strike. His fingers gripped at the roots of the plants and he subtly wriggled from his boots so that his toes could do the same. This was not about pride—not about station—only about finishing them for what they had done. He wanted to feel the ground for all it could tell him and for all he could use it.

 

Now, as the fused Vegeta, he could see from a distance the emotional turmoil of the parts that made up his whole, and its causes were petty. No—not petty—but he had his own reasons. These copies were disgrace to his name, and a disappointment to the universe, products of a being that had become too ostentatious and, despite its apparent brilliance, thought too little. These things—these superfluous copies—bored, purposeless monsters—did they think? Did they know? But with such power, what else was there to do? Vegeta knew, and knew that this alone was what separated him and them: they would never learn what else to do.

 

One copy appeared, then two more, searching for the familiar energy that had quickly disappeared from view. Vegeta all but slithered through an opening, to watch them from behind. With his power so low, all he had to do was keep quiet and not be seen…but this was the way to go about things, before they all showed. As a breeze picked up, rustling the brush, he took advantage of the sound and motion to come up behind one copy, and swiftly knocked the backs of his knees in, toppling him and slamming his jaw shut before he could make a sound. Doubtless they had some other way of communication—were they telepathically connected, identical as they were?—but it would, at least, help. With his advantage Vegeta was able to snap the copy's neck uncontested—but as he had suspected, his presence was quickly noted.

 

Grimacing as if in agony, the other two copies that had shown themselves on the scene charged the area, and, calculating quickly, Vegeta ascended, and then ascended again. He lashed out against them, knocking them back in opposite directions. He had to finish this quickly—quickly or the fusion would run out, quickly or they would learn better how to deal with him. He focused his attention on one, catching up with him as he flew through the air—had not yet had time to ascend and match Vegeta. The fusion drilled him into the ground, foot planted against his stomach, and gripped his toes tightly, holding onto the copy as he swung a punch at the recently recovered one. As he leapt away from the copy on which he stood, he pressed his feet down and apart, ripping open the copy's belly and yielding a blood-curdling scream from both the dying copy and the attacking one.

 

As Vegeta knocked the third copy back, three more arose around him, and his mind was racing to discover a strategy that would allow him to take them on one by one. It could be impossible, he knew—yet, in the end, each fight was one-on-one, each blow the case merely of one foe attacking another—and if it happened many times in a row, so be it. Each swing of his arm, each twitch of his eyebrow had to be a move to defeat his enemy—to kill him—and he grinned maliciously with excitement. He was a god awakened for this purpose alone.

 

But four at once were far too many to handle—how many had it taken to kill Kakarrot in mere seconds?—his mind worked quickly and he snatched the nearest copy, pulling him into a lock that kept him from moving. Snarling, the other copies approached, trying to land blows against the fused Vegeta. Quickly, he lowered his back against the ground, still gripping the other copy. The remaining three seemed to explode with rage at their inability to strike their opponent, and leapt forward, scratching to free the copy in Vegeta's grip. As their efforts were fruitless, and fruitless still as they pulled at his body, they began tugging on the copy's limbs, and Vegeta's eyes became icy as he tried to ignore what was transpiring. But quickly as he could blink, the figure in his grasp was lighter, and bleeding profusely—dismembered but for one leg and his tail, which writhed against Vegeta's gut.

 

Vegeta dropped the body but was caught only moments later by the tearing hands of the three copies that remained, as two restrained him for the other to perform some other technique. He let his tail whip with force against one of the copies who held him, and lurched his body around to swing one copy against the other, dazing them just long enough for him to escape—but not before the third formed a bright magenta disk, laughing maniacally. Vegeta recognized it immediately—it was buried deep within one of the minds that formed his being, and moved out of the way as quickly as he could. The disk caught his tail, shaving off the end, and he let loose a wail. Vegeta was forced to move again—it looped back around to chase him, and as he sped along the terrain, it did not relent. He swooped past the copies, hoping to damage one of them, but they were all too fast—faster than he, perhaps. So he powered up farther, and rocketed to the other side of the planet, gaining precious inches on the disk with each second he moved. Finally, he raised his fingers to his forehead, teleported behind one of the copies, and jumped out of the way just before it sliced through him. The bottom half of the copy's body plummeted to the ground, and he choked out sputtering sounds, his top half following the bottom not long after.

 

The copy that had generated the disk dispelled it, glaring critically at Vegeta. There are only two left… he glanced around for the other, and sensed its energy approaching him quickly. Vegeta gathered himself into a defensive stance, mind racing for some strategy, something, to take care of these last two. The one that stood before him, still glaring, seemed in pain despite the fact that Vegeta had yet to strike him, and Vegeta studied his face for the cause. In his distraction, Vegeta missed his chance to block the other copy as it charged toward him, and found himself tangled with him, their tails lashing as they wrestled. The copy braced his hand and pulled it back, and Vegeta shifted his hands to defend his neck, kicking at the copy.

 

He flipped them over and forced the copy's smaller body to the ground, and shot a bright ki blast toward the other copy as it came for him. In the split-second Vegeta had, he turned the copy's move upon him, gripping his hair with one hand and driving his hand through the copy's throat with the other. He breathed heavily, standing up. The fight was taking its toll on him, and he feared he didn't have much longer before the fusion would run out. He suspected that this one, this silent, distant copy, must be stronger, smarter than the others…

 

The last copy stood, waiting, calculating. Pain was etched onto his young face, and his tail held still, poised in thought. He hissed out words in some barely intelligible language, but Vegeta recognized it for its Saiyajin roots: “You've killed my brothers. You've killed me. You must die, as well.”

 

Vegeta's heart raced at the familiarity of the voice, at the meaning of the words. “You're outclassed in every way,” he responded quietly. “How do you intend to achieve that?” He feared the answer, and his tail twitched in wait.

 

The copy powered up, a blazing orb of energy surrounding him. “You know.”

 

Vegeta did know, and he knew he had to finish the job now. He widened his stance to power up, bursts of light flashing around him as electricity danced over his body. His hair doubled, then tripled in length, and he turned his monstrous face to the copy. But as he snarled and crouched to prepare for an attack, Vegeta felt an alien pounding in his chest, pulsing through his body, and just as he realized what it was—

 

Vegeta and Vejata flew apart, catching themselves on the brush and sending one another panicked glances. The copy's orb swelled, and Vegeta froze. The only reason Buu survived that move…was because he could regenerate… “Fuck,” he muttered, turning to Vejata with desperate eyes.

 

“What's this?” she shouted to Vegeta over the rushing winds.

 

“He's going to blow himself up—and us with him!”

 

“Shit!” Vejata sprinted toward the prince, slinging one arm around him as she lifted two fingers to her forehead. Heat chased their heels as they fled into silence, faster than the sound of the crackling of a planet.

 

 

…

 

 

They reappeared behind the crowd, gathered around the ship's screen, where a blazing light was just barely visible. Goku and Piccolo were the first to turn around, distress melting into relief in their eyes.

 

“Just barely!” Goku grinned. “How was it? We couldn't see a thing…”

 

“All we could feel were the fluctuations in your power,” Piccolo added.

 

“Thank god,” Bulma crumpled to the ground, running her hands through her hair. She pulled the scouter from her eye and tossed it to the side.

 

Goten and Trunks blinked silently, waiting.

 

“So…what happened?” Goku persisted.

 

Vejata slowly removed her arm from around Vegeta, and their eyes met. Memories flashed between them, of what their combined power had done. Her hand lingered against Vegeta's shoulder for several more moments before it drifted back to her side.

 

“Were you really strong?”

 

“Yes,” they both answered.

 

“Can I fight you like that sometime?”

 

“No,” Vegeta growled. Vejata nodded her head in agreement.

 

Goku shrugged the answer off. “How did you beat them?”

 

“Brutally,” Vejata murmured. “And without honor.”

 

“Oh,” Goku lowered his head. “I guess I should have known.” His eyes met Vegeta's, and he perceived an anguished expression. “Is something else wrong?”

 

“You never could have beaten them,” he answered simply.

 

“Well,” Bulma stepped in, “I'm glad you could.” She wrapped her arms around Vegeta, but he shook her off. She lowered her eyebrows and poked Vegeta's chest. “Now, look, you…”

 

“Don't touch me,” he whispered gently, prying her arm away. “Not now.”

 

Vejata turned away so that only Vegeta could see her face. “It had to be done like that.”

 

“I know,” Vegeta snarled. “Don't treat me like a moron.”

 

She held her gaze.

 

“Vejata,” Goku snatched at the woman's shoulder. She shrugged him away, but turned her focus to him. “Come back to Earth with us?”

 

“No. I have a planet to rule.”

 

“Just for a little bit. They've been without you for a while, right? Another day or two won't hurt `em.”

 

“We're almost there anyway,” Bulma added. “Maybe half a day with how fast the ship is going right now.”

 

“I could even teleport us!” Goku suggested.

 

“I can make you another, better one of these,” Bulma motioned toward the scouter.

 

“I'll be in the gravity room,” she answered, eyes locking with Vegeta's. “If you need me.”

 

 

…

 

 

Vegeta entered the gravity room hours later to find Vejata sleeping there. He locked the door from the inside using a code he had memorized well from the same room at Capsule Corp. “Hey,” he spoke gruffly. “Get up.”

 

She stirred, opening her eyes slightly, and in moments was alert and standing up.

 

“I'm not as soft as you think I am.”

 

Vejata raised an eyebrow. She crossed her arms and waited for the prince to continue.

 

“I just…hadn't…done anything like that…for a while.” He clenched his fist and swung it around to pound it against the wall. “I…think a real Saiyajin…should have relished in that bloodshed.”

 

“Under that logic, you should not have reacted so strongly to your son's death.”

 

“What?”

 

“Do you think your father so much as sniffled over sending you to certain death under Freeza?” she paused to see if he would respond. When he didn't, she continued, “The King Vegeta I knew wouldn't have blinked.”

 

Vegeta nodded, and paced over to the controls. He paused in thought, chewing on his tongue while he chose the right words. “You are a Super Saiyajin now. They will be bugs beneath your feet.”

 

Vejata nodded, the corner of her mouth turning down. “Yes. But it's my home.”

 

“You'll grow bored.”

 

She nodded again.

 

Vegeta's hand hovered over the dial, and as he focused his gaze on Vejata, his expression twisted into rage. He gritted his teeth and seethed, hand twitching. “What happened?” his voice was suddenly sharp, and he rapidly dialed up the gravity.

 

“What…do you mean?” she caught herself before she collapsed under her rapid change in weight.

 

“What happened between you and Bulma?” his teeth were still gritted.

 

Vejata took a few steps, and seemed to think better of it, turning away from Vegeta to face the wall. “If her behavior is any indication, nothing of importance,” her voice seemed bitter as it echoed from the wall.

 

“She's mine, you know.”

 

“I know,” she braced her forearm against the wall and leaned against it, resting her forehead right beside it. “And so is Kakarrot.”

 

Vegeta's brows furrowed, searching for the meaning of her statement, but eventually, he shrugged, throwing a few punches and kicks into the air. “Either get out of my way, or spar me,” he commanded.

 

“Prince Vegeta,” she spoke clearly, glancing across the room at him as she turned to face him. Their eyes met, and stayed in contact for several long moments in silence. Vegeta perceived gratitude and fear, apology and anger beneath layers of stony resolve in Vejata's gaze.

 

“Well?” he finally spoke. “Are you going to fight with me?”

 

She padded to the door and looked over her shoulder at him. “Not today.”