Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Sing No Songs ❯ A promise ( Chapter 5 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Chapter five

The night was calm. A peaceful silence lay over the shadowy room.

Vegeta slowly opened his eyes. He was wearing a gentle, relaxed expression, a small, almost undetectable, smile rested on his lips. He was still half-asleep and the dream lingered. He had been... somewhere beautiful. He had been someplace that was bright and safe and beautiful beyond belief. It had just been a dream, though, and it was quickly fading. The gentleness fled his countenance and was replaced with alarm as a bolt of anxiety went through his body.

Bulma.

He sat up in the bad and grabbed her hand. It was still warm. He had to force himself to raise his head and look at her face. When he saw her, his breath caught in his throat. Her well-known features intuitively awoke in him a sense of tender affection. Just looking at her had always made him feel better, lighter, and warmer. Only this time the feeling was a lie. She was gone - he sensed it clearly. She was empty, just a shell of flesh laying there on the white sheets, mimicking the woman that for so long had been a second beating in his heart.

No...

Unable to look at her any longer he let go, almost pushing her away, and walked a few unsteady steps to the middle of the floor. There he hunched over, the fingers of both his hands covering his mouth in an oddly childlike gesture. He felt numb. Dizzy. Like he was falling.

Shake it of, Vegeta, he distantly heard himself say. So now she's dead. You know this was happening, you have known it for a long time. What's the matter with you? He tried to fight this strange numbness, knowing somehow that it was dangerous, that it would leave him open and exposed. But he was sinking, deeper and deeper into a calm nothingness. It laid itself around him like a blanket.

His gaze wandered to the lamp, to the darkened window, to the chair by the wall. He stared at the objects without feeling much of anything. Nothing had any meaning, perhaps he could have turned around and looked at Bulma without even recognising her. His stunned eyes fastened on a large grandfather clock and he stared at it as if it had suddenly become very important. As if it could provide some sort of explanation.

The numbers displayed on the clock face was archaic and the swinging pendulum was the shape of an arrowhead. It was a heavy clock, filled with decorative carvings. He stared at it as if he had never seen it before. Then memory flooded him. How could he not have recognised the thing? Bulma's mother had treasured it and he had often seen her, dusting cloth in hand, caressing its shining curves. Bulma had not though much of the clock, calling it primitive and downright ugly. Later though, for some reason that was beyond him, she had suddenly started to love it. She had insisted that he should carry it into their bedroom, where the endless tick-tack sound kept him awake at night. The annoying thing had even marked the hours with several loud clangs that had brought him very close to smashing it to pieces just to silence it once and for all. He had hid his head under the covers while Bulma had teased him relentlessly. Laughing, she had said that she found the ticking soothing and that he would get used to it. This he had answered with -

And then, just like that, something inside him broke. His mind shattered. It was a simple thing, really. No loud screams, no surging powers. If there had been a sound it would have been a brittle crash, like a thin piece of glass falling on the floor, spreading sharp, glittering shards everywhere.

Vegeta fell to his knees as thoughts and memories were tearing through his head in no particular order. His identity wavered and the last of his self-control slipped through his fingers. Memories that had stayed untouched for half a century rose up as if to claim recognition, and an old rage ripped and tore at weakening chains with obscene ease. Frantically, he tried to find something to hold on to, some steady point in the storm.

---

Gohan searched for words, but he could find nothing to say to the weeping woman that was standing in front of him. He laid his hand on her slim shoulder and thought to himself that it was good, it was fitting, that someone like Bulma were grieved like this.

Tears were literally streaming down Bra's cheeks and huge shuddering sobs shook her body. Tears raised in Gohan's own eyes. He had hardly believed it when she had told him that Bulma really was dead, but slowly the truth was sinking in. Bulma... she had always been there. Now he was the only one left who remembered the old days, when it all had started.

Except for Vegeta.

“Is Vegeta...?” He was not sure how to finish.

“He's asleep.” Bra tried to silence her sobbing and wiped her cheeks, but they were immediately wetted with new tears. “We should go to him.”

“You're right.” Gohan cleared his throat uneasily. He had no idea how Bulma's death might affect Vegeta, but he had a feeling that facing him would not be easy.

They had started moving toward the door, when the TV came to life behind them. They both turned their heads in surprise. The control laid untouched on the table.

“What in-”

Bra fell silent as several pale figures appeared on the screen. They were dressed in deep brown clothes that resembled uniforms. One of them was standing in front of the others and he had a broad pattern of gold around his collar.

“Hey!” Goten exclaimed from the doorway. He held a forgotten sandwich in his hand. “It's the aliens!”

Yes, it had to be.

The uniformed man standing in the front did resemble a human, but there was something undeniable... odd about him. His eyes were rounded, almost circular, giving the impression that he had no eyelids. But then he blinked, much like a human would.

Trunks, who had been wide-awake in one of the guestrooms, joined them just in time to hear the alien's first words. His voice boomed out of the speakers, slow and almost painfully loud.

“I am captain Asdef of the law-enforcing team number 49-5. In the name of the great Galaxy, I greet you, people of the Earth. This message is being sent to all receptor links on the planet surface. Lay down your weapons. We come in a mission of peace and security for the whole galaxy.”

Gohan imagined how people all over the Earth let out a sigh of relief. He, too, was relieved. The visitors talked about peace.

“He's speaking in a different language,” Bra murmured, somewhat cryptically. He gave her a questioning stare. Tears still glittered in her eyes, but they seemed forgotten for the moment. She studied the screen intently.

As the captain resumed his speech, Gohan suddenly realised what she had meant. The calm, almost pleasantly spoken words did not correspond with the movement of the alien's ashen lips. Under the booming voice, there was another, a sibilant hiss intermixed with harsh consonants.

Of course, Gohan thought. They are translating their words so that we can understand them. Nevertheless, the discovery left him with an uneasy feeling and he listened to the continuing message with a vague sense of foreboding.

“We understand that our presence will alarm you. Since this planet is somewhat... isolated, information might have been slow to reach you.”

A tight smile curved the captain's lips. Condescending, Gohan thought. He scowled. His impulse was to protect the people of the Earth, even from some alien's snootiness.

“It is my pleasure,” the alien said, his voice expressionless, “to officially announce that the last vestiges of the destroyer Frieza's empire have been defeated. The galaxy, after a century of strife and discord, are finally united under one order and one rule. All hail the great Galaxy.”

“Their leader calls himself `The Galaxy'!” Goten hooted. “Pretty pre-presumptuous of him, isn't it?”

“Yeah,” Gohan murmured. The bad feeling was getting worse. He found himself eyeing the alien that called himself “captain”. The pale man stood stiffly and his movements seemed tense. While not particularly weak-looking, he still did not look like a warrior type.

He waited tensely on the alien's next words and only noticed in passing that Pan and Videl also had entered the room. A pair of running feet could be heard in the hallway. It seemed as if everyone in the house was drawn by the voice that disturbed the nightly calm.

The captain was silent for several seconds. He glanced to the side and almost appeared to hesitate. But when the smooth voice continued, there was impossible to detect any trace of uncertainty or doubt.

“It has come to our attention that the Earth is harbouring a fugitive. The last survivor of the tyrant Frieza's elite soldiers is hiding amongst you. His name is Vegeta. His crimes are terrifying. It is our duty to collect him, so he can face the justice of the Galaxy.

“What!?” Bra's exclamation was filled with disbelief.

“They're insane!” Pan shouted.

“Suicidal,” Trunks murmured. His eyes were very wide.

The booming voice continued, and the group fell silent to listen. For some reason a sense of profound grief had risen up in Gohan's chest. Justice, they had said. Oh, Vegeta.

“You will surrender Vegeta to us,” the captain said. “If you comply with the laws of the Galaxy you have nothing to fear. However, if you refuse to obey the laws, it will be considered as an act of treason.”

“What do they mean by surrender him,” Trunks spoke up. He sounded angry, and slightly indignant. “They can't possibly hold the Earth accountable for whatever father chooses to do!”

“They're insane.” Pan repeated.

Bra just stared at the screen, her face pale.

The alien took a few steps forward, until he was so close that they clearly could see that he had neither eyebrows nor eyelashes. His pale hair was closely cut to the skull.

“People of the Earth, we are not your enemies, but this concerns the peace and security of the whole galaxy.” For the first time the loud voice appeared to hesitate. “This is the hardest thing I have ever had to say...” He paused. “You have two of your weeks. If the felon Vegeta is not found and surrounded to us by then, we will be forced to eliminate him together with the planet on which he is presently residing. The law is clear, and we are the enforcers of the law.”

The captain fell silent and stared out from the screen without blinking. The tip of his tongue darted out to wet his thin lips. Abruptly the image flickered and disappeared.

They all stood in stunned silence, staring at the black screen.

Gohan felt tiny arms wrap themselves around his knee, and he looked down. Bra's youngest yawned up at him. My responsibility, he thought. He felt cold. They are all my responsibility.

Out loud he said, “I wish father was here.”

---

Vegeta did not move a muscle as the words of the message washed over him. It was the strangest thing. His whirling mind echoed the hissing and slithering that crawled underneath the clear loud voice. He knew that language, he knew it very well.

Old memories responded, they hinted at an escape from all this, if he only was to surrender to the rage. If he only was to set the raging dog free. He could feel it, dark and debased, moving inside of him. Screaming for indulgence. The shadowy beast shifted its large body and he caught a glimpse of course black hair. Broken and jagged rows of teeth were exposed in a mindless snarl. The beast moved lethargically; snapped its bounds one at a time. Snap. Snap. Snap.

No! His protest was clear and emphatic. He would not give in, not freely and not willingly!

His resolve anchored him somewhat. The whirling storm inside of him stilled. The kaleidoscopic pieces of his mind settled, forming a subtle different pattern. At the core of this pattern there was an agonizing sense if loss; a cold, bottomless hole that could not possibly be healed, could not possibly be endured. He only wished for it to stop. Why couldn't it just stop? Oh... it could. He could end it all. A nearly bottomless well of power was his for the grasping. It was bright and beckoning, heavenly rich, immeasurable sweet.

All this pain could end in one magnificent blast of destruction. Why not? It would be so easy to just... let go. Yes, drink from the power and receive release. There would be no pain. No rage. No loss. Not this empty, bleeding hole in the place where he had once felt only smiling warmth and infinite affection.

“Bulma.” He whispered her name. Time to end this.

You want it to end, do you? The icy voice was his own. It cut through his mind, filled with withering contempt. Is this the prince of the Saiyans, on his knees, whimpering for the pain to end? You deserve no ending, Vegeta. You deserve no release.

Vegeta took a deep breath. Slowly, as if every movement took a monumental effort, he got to his feet. He raised his head. Too close - he had come too close.

It still was not over. He knew with a chilling certainty that this victory was only temporally. The dark rage was growing inside him, and struggled with triumphal relish to break the last fetters. He turned around, carefully, as if even the smallest disturbance might end his fragile control.

There she lay. The flow of her soft white hair rested against the pillow, her chest stilled forever. When he saw her, he heard her final admonition, as clearly as if she was speaking to him from the other side: Behave when I'm gone, Vegeta. The memory further strengthened him in his resolve. He would not give in. I promise.