Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Bite ❯ Chapter 6

The Bite--Ch. 6

By Elbereth in April

Vegeta spent two hours training on the front lawn, until the rest of the house woke up. He could smell breakfast cooking, he was right under the kitchen window. Just then it opened and Bunny's head poked out. "Hi, Vegeta-chan!"

He nodded at her.

"Want some orange juice?"

"OK." He walked over and she handed him a glass through the window. He took a long sip.

"Food'll be ready in about half-an-hour. So, how are you doing, Vegeta-chan? Do you like it here at CC?"

He snorted. "Compared to where I was? It's wonderful."

"But how are you? Really?"

He almost broke down and told her. That's how low he had sunk. He choked it back. "Fine."

Bunny shook her head. "So much like Vegeta-san. Don't want to admit to any problems."

Vegeta drank more juice, staring at her warily.

"Well, you be smarter than him. You let us know if anything is wrong, all right?" She giggled.

"Sure," he lied, draining the glass and handing it back to her.

"I need to get back to cooking!" She giggled again and withdrew her head from the window.

He turned away and stared out across the lawn. He didn't understand any of these people! Were humans just weird? Had he lost his perceptiveness? Was it something in the water?

He half-way smiled at himself, then frowned. He shouldn't be worrying about settling in until he knew if that dream was real. He had to go Super Saiyan. He had to break that bond. He had to be strong. If only he could figure out how to do any of that!

If anger and strength were the only keys to transforming, Hito should have been able to kill Frieza. And how had Trunks and Goten managed it? Trunks said they had just done it one day when they were merely brats. It was maddening.

He checked his mind shields one more time. Everything seemed to be OK.

Only 4 more days to the stupid party the onna had insisted on throwing. He was dreading it, and not just because he was naturally anti-social. He would have to face Kakkarot again. A Kakkarot who was growing suspicious--who may even have already figured out that the two of them were linked.

All of a sudden he desperately wanted to kill somebody, to purge this whole worthless planet, to blow it to ashes, and rid himself of. . . only it wouldn't. Not if the dream was real.

Could Frieza possibly find a way to travel to the future? He felt nauseous. He clutched his stomach, as his tail flicked back and forth.

The window opened again. "Breakfast is ready early!" Bunny called in her cheerful voice. "You must be hungry!" She smiled--she'd caught him still holding his stomach.

"Yeah." He gave a sickly half-smirk, wanting nothing more than to curl up in a ball and die.

Instead he wrapped his tail around his waist, straightened his back, put on his blankest expression, and went inside to the kitchen table.

Fortunately, everyone was so caught up in the amazement of Bulma's pregnancy they didn't notice his pale face or how little he ate. Hito and Bulma were in a fierce argument over what to name the baby.

"Bra? You want to name a poor, defenseless brat Bra?"

"It's the family tradition."

"It's kind of--suggestive, don't you think?" Trunks worried.

"Nonsense!" Dr. Briefs smiled happily and cluelessly. "She should be proud to be a Briefs!"

"I refuse to allow it," Hito growled. "Bad enough you named the boy Trunks instead of Vegeta the 24th. . ."

"Oh, hush," Bulma interrupted. "Trunks is a good name."

Trunks rolled his eyes.

"I kind of like Bra myself," Bunny put in.

Hito threw up his hands in disgust.

"What would you name her, Papa?"

He frowned, thinking. "I don't know. . . how about Gurinpisu?"

"You like that better than Bra?"

Hito kicked Vegeta's chair under the table. "Back me up, brat."

Vegeta looked up from his plate. "It's a good Saiyan name," he said obediently. "You could always call her Su for short."

"How about Brapisu? Then Mom could call her Bra and I could call her Su and Dad could call her Peas."

"We're going to have to give this some consideration," said Bulma.

_________ _________

Shortly after breakfast, Vegeta went to Hito. "Want to train now?"

Hito smirked. "Stupid question. Gather up Trunks and let's go."

They had the gravity up to 40 Gs now. "Tell me how to turn Super Saiyan," Vegeta demanded after they'd warmed up.

Trunks and Hito looked at each other.

"You need to be angry," Hito told him. "Very angry. Righteous anger is good. Or really hating somebody."

"I am. I do. But I haven't transformed yet." The frustration was clear in his voice.

Trunks frowned. "Maybe you have a mental block."

Vegeta's eyes went wide as he digested this. Could Kakkarot have put some sort of stopper into his mind to hold him back? To prevent his transformation? But he wasn't sure that Kakkarot even believed in the legend. He probably wouldn't have thought to do so.

Hito sighed softly. This version of himself wasn't finding it any easier than he had. "Watch," he instructed, and transformed. Then he switched back to normal. "Like that."

Vegeta stared at him.

"Let's turn it up to 50 Gs."

They sparred for awhile. Hito taught him the Big Bang Attack. He watched Vegeta and Trunks spar and gave them pointers on strategy and technique.

"Maybe--you know--you're trying *too* hard," Trunks suggested.

They stopped for a breather. Trunks wiped his face with a towel and flicked some hair out of his face. Vegeta turned to stare at Hito. "How did you first do it?"

Hito shrugged and gave a bitter half-smirk. "I realized who I really hated."

They locked gazes. Instinctively, Vegeta knew he was talking about himself. He crossed his arms and stared at the ground. As Bulma had said earlier--this would require some consideration.

_________ ___________

Around 3:00 Bulma cornered Vegeta for his measurements so she could buy him some new clothes. She didn't want him running around in "nothing but cast-offs." He endured this with a scowl. Just as they were done the doorbell rang, so they traipsed downstairs to see who had come by.

Gohan. "Hey Bulma, hey Vegeta. I came by for that crime-fighting equipment you mentioned to Videl."

"Oh, sure. I'll go get it." She smiled and left the room.

Gohan smiled at Vegeta, who was standing stiffly across the room. "Plus I wanted to see if Vegeta-san was up for a spar. But don't tell Videl."

Vegeta frowned. Was he keeping secrets from his mate? He shook his head. "Bulma just got him to stop sparring with Trunks and me, to get changed to take her somewhere. She'll probably be pretty mad if you distract him."

Gohan pouted just a little in disappointment. Vegeta smirked. He held an internal debate, then shrugged. "I'll fight you."

Gohan's face lit up. "GR?"

"Lawn." No way was he going to lock himself into an enclosed room with Kakkarot's brat.

They powered up and stared at each other over Bunny's flower beds. Vegeta felt his heart sink as he registered Gohan's power. He was amazingly strong--and he didn't even seem to realize it.

`Well, here goes nothing.' He attacked, finding to his surprise that his opponent, while strong, seemed a little rusty, as if training was something he only got around to doing on weekends anymore, and didn't put too much into.

Vegeta smirked. Nothing like exploiting a weakness. They battled it out for awhile, til the flowers were long-since trampled and both were feeling pretty tired out.

A glance of mutual agreement had them both pausing, pretending like they didn't need a break.

Vegeta narrowed his eyes. Gohan was staring. "What?"

"I was just remembering the first time I met your--the other Vegeta."

"When?"

"He and Nappa landed on Earth to kill everybody and take the dragonballs."

"He mentioned it. He didn't say you were there." Vegeta stared back at him intently, keeping his defenses high.

Gohan chuckled. "Yeah. I was 6 at the time. I even fought against them. Vegeta-san would have won if I hadn't gone Oozaru and fallen on him."

Vegeta frowned. "Wouldn't he have been Oozaru, too?"

"Nah, Yajoribe snuck up behind him and cut off his tail."

"That explains it. I hadn't wanted to ask." He had to stop himself from placing his hands over his tail protectively. "What a wretched, nasty creature. How was he killed?"

"He wasn't."

Vegeta was truly surprised. "Hito never killed him?"

Gohan shook his head.

"That's--unbelievable."

"Well, things were different after Namek."

Vegeta waited. Gohan smiled, knowing he wanted to know but wouldn't ask.

"I went to Namek with Krillin and Bulma," Gohan explained. "Vegeta was already there. So was Frieza--and his men. They were killing the Namekians, gathering up the dragonballs. Vegeta wanted to get the dragonballs for himself, wish for immortality, and kill Frieza. We were trying to stop them both and wish our dead friends back to life.

"Unfortunately, Frieza was way stronger than we were. Eventually we met up with Vegeta again, and when the Ginyu Force showed up, we joined forces to defeat them and Frieza. Things were still looking pretty bad until my dad showed up. He'd been training in 100 times gravity for six days, while traveling in his ship to the planet. When he got there, he was incredibly strong! Anyway, between us, we beat the Ginyu Force, but Frieza was another story. My dad was injured, and Frieza attacked while he was recovering and unable to fight. Vegeta was doing really good against him in his first form, but after Frieza transformed, we were no match for him.

"He has four forms, you know." He looked over at Vegeta.

Vegeta swallowed. He hadn't known. "How strong. . ."

"Power level 1 million."

Vegeta's eyes widened before he calmed himself back down.

"Krillin and I gave it up, but by then Dad was OK and joined us. Well, even Dad was getting beat. . ." Vegeta frowned at his wording. ". . . until Frieza killed Krillin. Well, he and Dad have been best friends forever, so that really upset him. Plus, he couldn't bear the thought of Frieza killing me or destroying Earth. So he transformed into Super Saiyan for the first time."

Rage and hate again. And sorrow, too. There was a common pattern. Death. . .

"Happily, Frieza couldn't stand against a Super Saiyan. It was still a hard fight, but Dad won."

"And where was I all this time?"

Gohan blinked, suddenly looking decidedly uncomfortable. "You were dead," he answered after a pause. "Frieza killed you just after Dad woke up."

Blood began to pound in his ears.

"You were wished back by the dragonballs. . . Vegeta?"

Vegeta looked up, face pale, eyes black and narrowed, flashing with deadly intent. "Go home. Spawn of Kakkarot."

Gohan decided suddenly that might be a very good idea. "S-sure thing, Vegeta. I'll just go and get Bulma's invention that I came for, and leave, OK?" He scratched his head nervously, walking away backwards.

Vegeta's aura flared and he turned and jogged inside. Vegeta sat down on the lawn, not even sure what all he was feeling. So. Not only had somebody else killed Frieza, but Frieza had killed him. His breathing sped up. He clenched his hands in the ground, uprooting grass and dirt.

`How did I die?' he wondered. `Did Frieza drag it out? How painful was it? Did Kakkarot smile?'

___________ ___________

9 PM. He was sitting on the roof. Hito and Bulma were still out--"on a date," Bunny had whispered, giggling--and Trunks was talking to Reina on the phone. He'd retreated, to listen to voices in his head.

"I realized who I really hated."

"I'm not the one who killed Frieza, am I?"

"You were dead."

"Our destiny rests in your hands, my son. You must become a Super Saiyan someday. You have the potential."

"You call yourself a Prince. If I was a member of such a weak, miserable race, I wouldn't admit it. And you go around calling yourself the leader of them! Prince of the Monkeys!"

"You won't be able to keep me out forever, ouji-sama. Some day I'll slip in. . . through some vulnerable door. . . and once I'm in your mind, Prince, you won't be able to get me out."

Sweat ran down his face. Kakkarot had held one arm and Zarbon the other, and Frieza was coming closer and closer. And Kakkarot was whispering in his mind.

They were right. They were all of them right.

He was weak and pathetic. He let Frieza beat him and kill him. He couldn't transform into a Super Saiyan when an 8-year-old could. He'd let his father and his people die and his planet be destroyed. He'd been drugged. He couldn't even win a spar against a Namek. And Kakkarot. . . he'd let Kakkarot. . .

Oh, kami. And now he was powerless to prevent this Kakkarot from doing the same thing.

Hito was right. Who better deserved hatred and loathing?

His eyes closed as his soul swam in an ocean of darkness. The rising tide of it was washing him away, was sure to drown him.

His hair flickered gold, once.

His twitching tail slapped him in the thigh, and he grabbed hold of it with one hand, unconsciously tightening his grip. Disciplined elite or not, the pain of it jarred through all his nerves and he involuntarily moaned aloud. His eyes slid open to stare at the sky, which seemed to whirl around his head.

His hair flickered again, as his eyes briefly flashed teal.

And wouldn't everyone hate him if he told? If they knew the depths of his failure and degradation?

Too much. . . it was all too much. . .

He screamed, his power spiking one more time, and then plummeting to almost nothing. He drew in shaky, ragged breaths.

There was no way to sever a bond. None.

Trunks rose up above the edge of the roof and stared at him. "Vegeta-chan? Are you OK?"

The wild look in Vegeta's eyes answered for him. His hand clenched again, nearly breaking the bones of his tail. Trunks instinctively felt this was a bad sign.

"Hand," Trunks commanded. "Give me your hand." When Vegeta just stared in confusion, Trunks insisted, "That hand. Hold it up."

Bemused, Vegeta did so, letting go of his tail. Trunks hid a sigh of relief. Vegeta didn't even notice the lessening of pain.

"OK. So." A 15-year-old boy with an ultra-macho father was not equipped for this. "Um. Are you hungry?"

But Vegeta was recovering rapidly. He'd been forced to keep on living many a time when he would have preferred not to. "Adjust and hide it" was second nature.

"We're fast running out of meat," Trunks continued. "Maybe tomorrow we could go hunting. Really hunting, I mean. Last time Papa and I brought home some great bear, and some dinosaur. Mom wouldn't eat it."

"Hunting," Vegeta repeated in a mostly normal voice.

"Uh huh. Goten likes fishing better. . ." Trunks cursed himself for mentioning Goten when Vegeta's darkened. ". . . but Papa and I would rather hunt. But for now, we've got more ice cream in the freezer. Moose tracks."

"Moose ice cream?"

"Not really. . . it's just called that."

"I'd rather have more of those blackies."

"Brownies," Trunks grinned. "With hot fudge on top?"

Vegeta nodded. Trunks kept grinning, feeling relieved. Now Vegeta was acting more normal. "OK. Come on."

____________ ___________

A pan of brownies and a *lot* of coffee kept Vegeta awake until nearly 4 AM, but when the caffeine/sugar high ran off, he felt so exhausted he knew he'd *have* to attempt to sleep.

He realized he was afraid to dream alone, and afraid to have anyone overhear him. He paced the hallway outside his bedroom, not knowing what to do.

He *knew* he had been completely silent, but the door to his left opened and Hito came out. "*What* is your problem, brat?" he demanded with a scowl.

Vegeta flushed deeply and cast his eyes to the floor. Hito looked at him for a long, searching moment. Then he grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him over to one of the other guest bedrooms. He shoved him towards the twin bed by the bathroom, then threw himself into the bed under the window. He deliberately turned his back to him and almost immediately was asleep again.

Vegeta lay in the other bed, listening to Hito's breathing, tears stinging his eyes. It was probably one of the kindest things anybody had ever done for him.

With a tiny smile on his face, he finally drifted to sleep.