Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Sympathy For The Devil ❯ Brotherhood ( Chapter 2 )

Sympathy For The Devil

Blah… blah… blah… no one pays attention to these things.

Author's Notes: Thanks and hugs to Raven for betaing!

*grins* Interested is good, yep. *nodnod* The flame thing is weirdness that resulted for TOT. Ignore my rantings. *smirk*

Black thoughtful eyes watched dead black heavens, filled with sleepiness and anticipation. Curiosity had always been one of his worst attributes. It had caused him to leave his peaceful life years ago, choosing adventure and enthusiasm over simplicity. It was how he had meet Bulma and all of his friends. Curiosity had caused him to kill and fight, but it had also resulted in his conscience It was who he was, and he believed it would never change.

When the space pod had shot across the blue heavens, it had been the reason Son Gokou had followed, along perhaps with boredom. He'd watched with wide awe-filled eyes as the door to the simple reddish orb had slid open, mechanical beeping sounds following. From behind that door stepped a dark angel, long raven hair reaching his ankles, snapping in the wind. Narrowed eyes that matched his had gazed up from the crater, one hidden by a green translucent plate. Golden lights had appeared within that screen, and a disappointed expression followed.

Brothers… that was what Raditzu had said. Siblings… born of the same mother and father. Why had he been sent away? Where were their parents? Gokou wanted to ask, but the questions hadn't occurred to him on Chikyuu, and now wasn't the time to ask. Raditzu was sleeping, and the gases that were filling Gokou's lungs were causing his eyes to droop also.

Raditzu's arms held him loosely. The pod was small. Gokou rested in his brother's arms, legs thrown over one side, head limp against Raditzu's shoulder. Lazy eyes stared at the door of the pod, watching as stars and planets passed by. He had never considered that anything lay beyond Chikyuu's

sky until now. Space was so beautiful. There had to be thousands upon millions of planets out there, and the majority of them held life.

Excitement filled Gokou at the prospect of an entire planet full of senshi just like him. Millions of men and women who loved to fight just as much as he did. He could learn so much about martial arts. There would be Saiyajin stronger than him, and Saiyajin weaker than him. The negative aspects of

such facts did not transpire in his mind. Sleep was too close.

He had tried to ask Raditzu things, but his brother had been impatient. Time was not on their side. Someone unpleasant was waiting for them out here… in space. He had spoken a name, but Gokou couldn't remember it. Raditzu had called him Kakarrotto… his birth name. He had a birth name… a name that his father and mother had chosen just for him. Still… he liked the name Gokou better, but it was nice to know that his parents had loved him somewhat… even if they had abandoned him. Maybe they didn't have a choice. He couldn't know until Raditzu woke up, though.

Gokou nuzzled his brother's neck, savoring the protective scent. He felt safe, cared for. One calloused hand rested on his knee, another on the arm of the chair, fingers touching Gokou's arm. Between the arm of the seat and his thigh, Raditzu's tail twitched slightly in dreamy movements. His breathing was calm and content. Gokou yawned deeply, forcing his eyes to remain open. He wanted to watch each moment, see each tiny planet. He allowed his own tail to circle around his waist. It twitched angrily, physically fighting off sleep like an enemy in the air. Raditzu had told him that for two days they would be traveling through space. They would arrive on some tiny planet just in time to meet up with the

unpleasant impatient man. Raditzu had turned on one of the many machines around them, telling Gokou that a smog would fill the air and seep into their bloodstreams through their lungs, causing them to drift off into a peaceful sleep. This would prepare them for many long sleepless days and

nights filled with battles.

Days and nights of fighting! Gokou had been on the verge of ecstasy at the very thought of it. Of course, naivety was an easy thing for even Raditzu to recognize, but he had remained silent for his little brother, merely smiling and shaking his head. He had not failed to notice Kakarrotto's amnesia, or the fact that Chikyuu had never been conquered. There hadn't been time for such things, so they had merely been ignored. Whatever harm had been done to Kakarrotto on Chikyuu would easily be corrected after a few mere months in Furiza's service.

Gokou had just begun to consider the consequences of his actions as the gases had begun to set in and take affect on Raditzu. Would he ever see Bulma or his friends again? It was possible, wasn't it? When Gokou had reached his preteens, Bulma had forced him to memorize her cell phone number, email address, and home address. With any of the three he was supposed to be able to reach her. Surely, somehow, through one of those he could contact her, tell her of his adventures. Being able to fly in space was surely something that would interest Bulma. She loved science, and building a spacecraft was something she had yet to accomplish. She would love meeting more people like Gokou, wouldn't she?

Yeah… Gokou decided with a firm nod. He would ask his brother how he could contact Bulma through one of those things. Raditzu seemed like a smart man. He would know how to do it. Gokou's eyes began to slide closed. The lids were so very heavy. Gokou yawned again, unable to stop himself. He reached out, wrapping his arms around his brother tightly, holding him like an oversized teddy bear. Why was Raditzu's hair so long? Gokou couldn't help the thought as sleep finally gathered him up, and guided him through the darkness of peaceful dreamy oblivion.

~*~

Through the darkness of the corridors he wondered. His footsteps were not planned. He moved aimlessly, eyes wondering across scuffs on the floor, finding meaning behind each mark somewhere in his memories. There were places he needed to be, things he needed to do, and yet he could find the energy to attend to any of them. There was much time before the ship arrived on planet XR-394 - the actual name of the planet not important. All races and planets had become merely a series of numbers for the sake of record keeping… though why Furiza insisted on keeping records was beyond Zarbon's knowledge.

He yawned faintly, clasping his hands behind his back, overtop of the blue cape he wore. The tight shorts caused him to stand tall, mostly in fear of exposing himself. The armor refused to let him slouch. His hair had grown out in the last few years, due to Furiza's demand. Furiza preferred his whores be feminine, even though the Icejin was quite flamboyant in his homosexuality. It disgusted Zarbon, but there was little he could do. If Furiza said jump, he asked how high. If Furiza told him to spread his legs… well… he did it.

The mere thought caused him to shiver with disgust.

It was the reason he kept his thoughts on Vejita.

The young Saiyajin no Ouji - correction: Saiyajin - had been the only male to ever cause a swell in Zarbon's loins. Vejita was beautiful, arrogant, haughty, and the loathing that the senshi felt for Furiza overpowered even Zarbon's. The two had such skills in lying it would take the breath from some warriors. Furiza did not suspect Zarbon's mental betrayal, and never would. Furiza knew Vejita was angered with him, but he didn't consider it hate. Furiza believed Vejita was upset because his pride had been damaged when he was denied by his race so many years ago.

Furiza had no idea about the subtle revolution against his rein in years past. It had only lasted a few weeks before it had exploded beneath Vejita's nose, leaving the Saiyajin broken and mindless. Furiza never even noticed… too engulfed with… whatever he had been… engulfed with.

Something was going on. Zarbon wished… and had even pleaded with Furiza to reveal what plagued his mind, but Zarbon had constantly been refused, often punished if his persistence became annoying. Zarbon truly couldn't help himself, however. He needed to keep extra eyes on Furiza, watch the Icejin's moves, be prepared for anything and everything that might affect him or Vejita.

Always watching out for Vejita….

He scowled and looked away from the floor. His thoughts always returned to Vejita. No matter how hard he tried, or how far away from the young prince - no… not prince anymore… why couldn't he get that straight in his mind? - his thoughts drifted, they always ended back on Vejita.

Furiza was constantly plotting things for Vejita. He was the Icejin's favorite plaything, and would forever be. Furiza liked it that Vejita kept him guessing, kept surprising him. It was the only reason Vejita had survived for so long, because Furiza was always caught off guard by the warrior's bold actions. He would expect one thing, and receive another - whether it be in battle, bed, or in mere conversation. Vejita always left a surprised chuckle on Furiza's lips.

Zarbon, on the other hand, was alive because of his beauty.

Only his beauty.

He paused in the hallway, leaning against the wall with a yawn. How many days had it been since he had slept? Zarbon couldn't remember. He needed to sleep. There would be much fighting ahead on the planet, and if he was half-dead it would be the end of his life.

Why was he always contemplating the end of his life? Why was it that, in every decision he considered, death was always a possible result? It was causing his nerves to tense. It was causing his hair to fall out. The stress was getting to him… finally… after nearly twenty years.

Zarbon laughed aloud, not caring if he seemed mad.

He was getting old.

Quickly, he shook it off, brushing back a stray aqua strand of hair. There was no room for madness on Furiza's ship. The mad were tortured before death… as if in punishment of losing their mind without their lord's permission. Furiza… a totalitarian in every possible way imaginable.

His eyes drifted back in the path he had been walking, staring across pale blue walls and white floors. The corridor was dimly lit, the darkness of space not helping the situation much. His bedroom was in that direction, but Vejita's bedroom was so much closer. He missed the young Saiyajin. Vejita's haughty attitude and muttered curses always brought a smile to his face.

He was an angel… a dark angel of destruction, but an angel nevertheless.

There was no room for love on Furiza's ship. One loved Furiza, or one loved nothing. One loved Furiza… more than their soul mate… more than their life.

Soul mate… bond mate… lover… it was all the same. Furiza didn't know the difference, but Zarbon did. A faint smile drifted across dark green lips as he thought of Vejita, seeing memorized curves in his mind's eye, hearing muffled unwilling groans that wanted to be denied coming from sweet lips that even tasted like battle, pride and strength. It made his heart pound inside his chest.

Vejita had always denied it, but Zarbon knew he caused the young warrior pleasure. He had seen the lust in those large black eyes. He had watched as the proud arrogant Saiyajin had struggled not to bite Zarbon during their times together, though rare they were. He knew little of Saiyajin ways, but he knew that the instinct to bite dealt with life and love. He'd even once tried to coax Vejita into claiming him by biting the Saiyajin… but it hadn't worked, and it had pissed Vejita off come the following morning, though the Saiyajin had been quite satisfied that morning, before the wound began to itch.

He missed Vejita. Zarbon smiled at the thought. Yeah, he was horny, and it might be playing with his thoughts and mind a bit, but he still missed the Saiyajin. It would be nice to hear someone… anyone speak badly about Furiza. He had always defended their lord when Vejita ranted, and threatened angrily to tell Furiza… but Vejita always knew he wouldn't. Vejita would just smirk, tilt his head to the side, and look at Zarbon through thick lashes. Zarbon would chuckle and shake his head helplessly, as if giving up… for that was exactly what he was doing in that moment. He was giving up on Furiza, and submitting to Vejita's will.

Vejita loved it.

He could always see it in the Saiyajin's eyes when he offered that careless gesture. In the corner of his eye, he would watch as Vejita grew smug briefly with the power he had. Vejita would sit up, proudly displaying the mark on his armor, and stare at Zarbon until the changeling either left the room or returned the stare.

It was a game they played.

No one ever won.

Zarbon liked it that way.

Turning, he continued down the hallway in the direction he had first begun. Sleep would not embrace him tonight. His mind was just too busy.

~*~

To Be Continued

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~Jady