Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Breath of Sorrow ❯ Logical Assessment of Emotion ( Chapter 4 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: brucesgirl 
Trunks fights with Vegeta over Goten, and Vegeta tells Diana about her heritage.
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Psychological / Horror / Hentai | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 02.10.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 5.7K | Visits: 308 | Status: Completed
Trunks fights with Vegeta over Goten, and Vegeta tells Diana about her heritage.
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Psychological / Horror / Hentai | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 02.10.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 5.7K | Visits: 308 | Status: Completed
Trunks didn't see his mother as he kissed her cheek and wandered quietly to his room. When he closed the door with an audible click, he leaned against it and ran delicate fingers through his soft lavender hair and exhaled a deep, painful breath. Of course he'd known about Vegeta and Goten. Vegeta had made sure of it by leaving his clothes in the GR locker room that smelled of his arousal mixed with Goten's blood, and Trunks could swear that he'd done it on purpose to ward his son away from his conquest. He was sure that his father was perfectly aware of what he was doing with Goten. He had to have been aware. Honor demanded it.
At first Trunks wanted to kill his father for sporting with Goten, but an odd thing happened that stopped Trunks from acting on his rage. Goten became happier in his day to day life without Goku, and for some strange reason, Trunks believed it had something to do with Vegeta. He couldn't put his finger on why Goten had changed back to his old self, and then it occurred to him that maybe in hurting him, Vegeta had provided some purpose to the boy's life other than just calling girls and getting a piece every once in a while. So as a result of watching his friend's attitude change for the better, he left his questions and accusations unvoiced, and he never let on that he knew about their sins.
The sickening feeling that he was a second to his father always plagued his mind when he was around Goten, but when he gazed at Trunks with those large, adoring chocolate eyes, he was sure that he held his place firmly in his friend's heart. It jumped back and forth from bitterness to resignation throughout the months that he was aware of Vegeta's involvement with young Goten, and he wasn't sure which one he held in higher regard. The simple issue was that Trunks didn't know how to handle any emotion, much less disgust, jealousy, and the feeling of betrayal, and he grabbed tight to his ability to push his emotions away from himself and held on for dear life.
It wasn't the fact that Vegeta's secretive sexual play with Goten hurt Trunks, but what bothered him the most was that he wasn't the one in Goten's bed. The absolute truth of the matter was that no matter how adept Trunks was to separating himself from his emotions, he loved Goten and would have done anything for the boy short of destroying the world. Love had a funny and painful way of worming its way into Trunks' heart over the years, but after all the times of watching Goten find sexual partners and play things, the pain numbed, and all Trunks felt was a mild reproach at Goten's promiscuity.
What confused Trunks was Goten's never ending supply of innocence throughout all of his sexual conquests and party nights at the club. It led Trunks to believe that the status of innocence didn't depend on one's sexual experience. After all, Son Goku had a legendary sexual appetite, according to Gohan, and he maintained his innocence to the day that he was taken away by the dragon. Trunks realized that Goten was incapable of hating anyone, and thus, he maintained his innocence well. Trunks had a deep hatred for the androids, and Vegeta still hated the memory of Frieza for the destruction of Vegeta-sei. Goten hated no one.
That brought Trunks to his next thought. Diana seemed no innocent, and he wondered who it was that she hated so passionately that she would bring her pain and disgust for life into other people's existence. At that point, before allowing himself to loathe her, Trunks allowed a brief amount of pity to spill forth from his locker of emotions before he threw the padlock on it again to keep the damn feelings quiet before they took over his being. He had allowed his feelings to get the best of him there in the club in front of Goten, and he was ashamed of himself.
Vegeta would have beat the hell out of him for showing such weakness, and Trunks swore to himself he'd never lose control again. His submission to Goten was, in itself, an oddity of sorts. He would have never submitted to anyone but Goten, and he bit back the amount of bitterness that welled up in his throat at the thought that Goten never even noticed him when it came to attentions. Goten hadn't wanted his submission.
He was right there! Right there at Goten's fingertips offering his friendship and his love, and the youngest Son didn't even recognize the offer and chance to be close to Trunks in any other way but platonic. Surely Goten had noticed his attentions by now, but Trunks shook his head to himself in mock sorrow and sarcasm. Goten was thicker than a lead wall lined with iron bricks, and if anything would make him see the light, it would be Vegeta. It was ironic to Trunks that Vegeta really didn't love Goten, but the boy obviously held some type of obsession or love for the Saiya-jin prince, and Trunks stood strong the entire time, waiting. He always waited.
The youngest Son's personality had become somewhat bland and stoic after Goku's departure, and Trunks took it upon himself to help the boy, but no matter how much sparring, clubbing, or eating the duo involved themselves with, Goten still seemed depressed and listless. Trunks worried and stayed up sleepless nights, feeling the dwindling ki of his friend, and he closed his eyes many times, trying to reach out to Goten and give him at least a piece of his own life, but the boy had lost the will to live without his father's guidance. It got nearly so bad that one day, during a spar with Vegeta, Goten stepped in front of a blast that was aimed for Trunks and nearly killed himself. Goten swore he was protecting his best friend, but Trunks and Vegeta both knew that Goten had wanted to die.
The first night he'd smelled Goten on Vegeta's clothes, Trunks dismissed it as a sparring match gotten too rough, but that still didn't explain the traces of arousal he scented on his father one night while passing him in the hall. Trunks wanted to ask questions, but instead, he did as always and watched. He watched Goten through the daily routine, and nothing seemed to change except that the boy had become more competitive and brash, much like he was before Goku left. So Trunks stopped wondering about Vegeta's actions with Goten, and he refused to answer his own questions. Whatever Vegeta had done fixed the problem. Now, the problem was the fact that Vegeta never stopped trying to fix the problem.
Making love to Goten in the club in front of that…monster. He shuddered and closed his cerulean blue eyes in pain and shock at his own actions. He had never acted so wantonly before, and he had no clue what had driven him to it this one time out of his entire life as a good son and upstanding citizen. That woman. Those blue eyes. There was something about her that made his blood run cold, and yet, he was driven to be fascinated by her like a moth was fascinated by a brightly burning fire. A scent wrapped around her that set his blood aflame and made him want to be dominant and submissive at the same time. He found himself hating her with so much fiery passion that it nearly drove him to transform, but he wrapped his energy up and stored it for a later date when it might be needed.
Trunks pushed himself off his door and threw his jacket on the chair next to his bed and his hands wandered to his shirt to unbutton it, his thoughts flitting back to deft, gentle fingers that had divested him of it so quickly. He shook the thought away and tried to press emotions down as he was accustomed to, but he kept seeing the chocolate eyes, filled with possessiveness and obsession. He bit back the bitter thoughts of how Goten cried out his father's name, and he pulled the shirt off, tossing in the hamper to his left. His blue eyes followed around the room to the usual friendly clutter, and he sighed in annoyance.
The next day would be fairly interesting, being forced to work with that woman in the lab, watching her work equations like the obvious genius that she was. He wondered if she'd look at him any differently than she had before, but he shook those thoughts out of his head as well. It would do no good to brood over business, and he could only hope that the brash bitch could hold her own when it came to being a genius in the lab. As he pulled on a tank top and some silk pajama pants, a sharp rap at the door startled him, and then he sighed when he realized exactly who the knock belonged to.
“Come in.” He said listlessly. He began to subconsciously pick up the clutter as Vegeta stepped into his room and looked around, his dark eyes strangely suspicious. He gazed at his son for a moment and then cleared his throat.
“Where's that other brat?” He demanded harshly. “I smell his stench.” Trunks shook his head lightly in slight amusement at his father's never ending lack of rudeness. Vegeta's eyes suddenly registered shock as Trunks passed him with his jacket, and his nostrils flared. Trunks knew he'd made a mistake the moment he'd grabbed the jacket to hang it up, and he flinched as Vegeta grabbed his wrist with the jack and pulled him to a stop. “You never clean your room. You make the maids do it, brat, and don't think that I can't smell him all over you and your clothes.”
Trunks jerked away from Vegeta and gazed at him with darkened blue eyes. He hoped to whatever gods that there were that he could control his quickly rising temper with his father. It would do no good to have fighting in the house with his aging and nervous mother just a floor below them. “It's none of your business, Dad.” He answered more sharply than he'd intended. Vegeta stared at his son in shock. There used to be nothing that the boy wouldn't tell him, and now, the young prince was blatantly shutting him out of his extra curricular affairs, and it bothered him.
“Don't talk to me like I'm some low class baka like that damn brat you hang around with.” Vegeta snorted at his son. “You will respect me. I'm the prince of all…”
“Yeah. I know, Dad.” Trunks cut him off. Vegeta's face reddened slightly at his son's strange and sudden disrespect. He tilted his head slightly and then let his son go, allowing Trunks to continue nervously picking up the clutter in his room piece by piece as the quietly observing prince stood in the door way. He stepped in fully and closed the door behind him, making the lavender haired boy stop his actions and turn to his father.
Vegeta spoke, his voice dark and quiet. “I thought you understood my point, boy.” He glared daggers at Trunks, but in his emotional displacement and mild listlessness, Trunks had grown slightly braver and less respectful as he raised his blue eyes to his father's and glared at him with a hovering hatred.
“You're fucking Goten? Yeah, I got your point.” Trunks bit out at him. Vegeta's eyes widened and then narrowed at his son as he stepped up to the verbal challenge his heir had just issued.
“That is none of YOUR business, brat.” He growled dangerously. He could feel his son's energy level starting to fluctuate with his rising temper, and out of sheer curiosity of how far he could push him, Vegeta smirked. “But if you must know, he enjoys every minute of it.”
The insanity that Trunks feared shone brightly in his father's eyes, and just as he had felt pity for Diana, he now felt it for his father's lost soul. Trunks missed Goku immensely, but his friendship with Goku had not been his reason for living, and in turn, he couldn't imagine what it would have been like to have his entire reason for being pulled away by circumstances he could not help. Still, it didn't help the fact that Trunks was growing more and more angry.
Trunks clenched his fists and glared at his father directly in the eye, challenging him to rebut the next statement. “Get out.” He snarled. Vegeta crossed his arms and stared evenly back at his son, and that, was Trunks' breaking point. He rushed his father, and grabbing his arm, he yanked the door open and tried to shove the bigger man through it. “Get the hell out of my room!” He snapped.
“You stupid…” Vegeta turned to hit his son, but he met a fist in the face as Trunks beat him to the punch line. Another fist hit him while he was still in shock, and he found himself in the hall, against the wall, Trunks' fist raised to pound him again. The rage in the boy's eyes was unmistakable, but Vegeta prided himself in the next emotion that he identified in the azure eyes of the prince. Trunks was hurt. It flowed out of his mouth when he breathed, and his body shook with the growing rage that the emotional pain began to accumulate in his body. He backed away slowly, planning on going back to his room, but his escape was short lived.
Vegeta smirked at Trunks and grabbed his shirt, and proceeded to drag his son down the hall towards the balcony doors. “If we're going to fight, let's do it where the wench won't be shrieking at us to stop.” In his insanity, Vegeta had missed the brutal sparring matches between Goku and himself that left him breathing hard, clutching at trees to remain standing, and flattening out entire mountains and hills for victory. He wanted to fight Trunks just for the sake of not being bored any longer.
Vegeta's eyes held the excitement of a coming battle, but that was also short lived as Trunks ground himself to a screeching halt on the floor and twisted out of his father's grasp. He glared at his father and uttered the most insulting words that the Saiya-jin prince had ever heard in his life. “I wouldn't fight you if you were the last man on Earth.” He sneered. “You're nothing to me. You're a shell of a man that used to be great. Now all you are is a lunatic!” With that, Trunks spun on his heel, leaving Vegeta in the hall, gaping at the harsh words he never thought he'd hear from his son.
*******************
When Trunks neared the lab the next morning with his father next to him, his nose wrinkled in distaste of the acrid smell of cigarettes and his ears ached at the steady pounding of techno music. Vegeta looked at his son in strained question, but Trunks only shook his head. When they stepped through the swinging doors into the first work room of the lab, Trunks was both amazed and horrified at the simple picture before him. The wild creature of the night had traded in her demon wings, and before him stood a perfectly professional scientist, leaned against the wall, staring at a board of Vegeta's complex equations.
She glanced up at Trunks, and immediately, she set to action, turning down the music and snuffing her cigarette out in an ashtray that Trunks didn't remember seeing in the lab before. She quickly straightened her white lab coat and her conservative skirt underneath, and she looked up at him. The eyes that had held a world of dark emotional information before were now empty and blank as she gazed at him evenly.
Diana's long ebony hair had been restrained in a prudish braid, and the pale blue eyes
were covered by stylish black rimmed glasses. Trunks' almost felt his jaw drop, but when the pale blue eyes met his, he nearly felt his heart stop in his chest, but she didn't let on that she knew him any other way but professionally as she offered her hand to him and a professional smile, pointedly ignoring the man behind him until she had greeted him. “Mr. Briefs! I hope you don't mind, but your mother gave me the key to the lab a few days ago so that I could examine the work so far on the sonic drive that you've got on the board.”
Trunks shook his head, and offered the same professional courtesy and shook her hand. “No, it's alright. I'm glad someone was here before we were. Here. Let me introduce you to my father, Vegeta. He's the one who came up with the theory.” Vegeta stepped forward, and he offered his gloved hand, but when eerie blue eyes met charcoal black, time stopped for Diana. Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to say something, but Vegeta had already taken her hand and held it in a nearly bone crunching grip, making her wince in slight pain.
“It's a pleasure.” He gritted out as he continued to shake her hand. Trunks laid a hand on his father's shoulder and whispered something to which Vegeta nodded. He turned to Diana and offered her a fake smile.
“I'm leaving my father here with you, and I've got to do some paperwork at the office.
Call me if you come up with anything.” Trunks exited the lab quickly, leaving the two enemies staring at each other in shock. Diana's blue eyes followed Vegeta's form in the faded blue jeans and the black shirt, and she nearly laughed at the difference between this warrior and the one whom she'd blasted into the ground. He released her hand, and she gingerly shook it in reproach. She gingerly pulled her glasses away from her face, allowing several stray wisps of black hair to caress her cheeks sensually while she gazed at the still staring Saiya-jin prince.
She tilted her head slightly, and then a slow smile spread across her face. The smile, Vegeta recognized, was slightly malicious and slightly sheepish as she stared at him with a mild amount of guilt. “I'm glad to see that my attack didn't do a significant amount of damage to you.” She wiped her glasses absently with her shirt hem, and Vegeta summoned up the gall to smirk at the unpredictable creature.
“As if your puny attack could do damage to me.” He scoffed haughtily. Her eyebrows shot up in mock shock of his pride and then, she smirked in return.
“It's not like you did all that much damage to me either, Mr. Vanity.” Vegeta's eyes flew wide, and he stared at her with suspicion. The woman was blatantly messing with him, and he wanted to know why. No woman, Saiya-jin or mortal had ever flirted with him willingly, so either this girl was very powerful, or she was very stupid. He stepped closer to her, and immediately, he inhaled deeply, searching for the powerful, heady scent that had set him on fire before, only to find it lightly subdued and meticulously scrubbed away with lye soap and sweet rose water. She gazed evenly at him with a slight malice in her eyes.
“The scent.” He clarified. Diana still gazed at him in feigned boredom without saying a word, and he rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Your scent, wench. The one that makes all the men follow you around like lovesick puppies.” A sudden understanding dawned in her eyes, and she turned away from him towards the board.
“I didn't mean to wash it off. I just needed a bath after my excursion last night. I felt filthy.” She pointed to the board of equations and looked over her shoulder at Vegeta. “Is this your work?”
Vegeta nodded. “Yes, and if you change any of it, I'll see to it that you never work in a lab again.”
Diana snorted at him and chuckled mildly. “Too late. You had a major flaw in one of the weight displacement theories. The mechanics of taking off on Earth require a little less power than you had placed. It's like you were planning on taking off of Jupiter or something.” Her voice wasn't accusing or even jeering. Instead, Vegeta found himself oddly intrigued by her understanding of the workings of gravity and weight displacement.
“You should have said something before you screwed up my hard work.” Snapped Vegeta as he pushed past her to examine the board. She tilted her head slightly and crossed her long arms across her chest, pushing her glasses up her nose. She watched him quietly as he worked the math out on the board, then, after a few minutes, he stood back, his eyes wide. “Where did you learn how to work theorem like this?” He demanded.
“I guess I was born with it.” Diana shrugged her shoulders. “I was doing college math by the time I was seven, and I had a degree in physics by the time was fifteen. Call it natural talent for math. It's about the only thing I'm good at.” The entire time she spoke, Vegeta had not removed his eyes from her, and it was becoming almost unbearable. She didn't fidget or show discomfort at his scrutiny, but she felt as if though he was looking right through her with his piercing eyes
“So you think that if we lessen the weight displacement, it will make the drive take off easier?” He clarified without looking at the board.
Diana nodded. “Weight is very important with speed, correct? Especially when pulling
away from any type of gravity, whether it be Earth or Pluto for that matter. Unfortunately, the problem I see us coming up against is how to set the weight displacement so that the ship can take off from multiple gravity forces.” She stared at the board, even as Vegeta stared at her. He couldn't get over the sickening feeling of slight fear and familiarity that surrounded the beauty in front of him, and he chose to break the conversation away from work.
“Who is your father?” He asked suddenly, his eyes narrowing.
“Jack Shelton.” She returned easily. She turned towards him, her blue eyes still stoic and cold, and then asked her own question. “Why?”
“No. Not that baka.” Vegeta sighed in exasperation. “Who is your biological father?” He was shocked when Diana's eyes suddenly went blank and dull, and she seemed to shut out her emotions, going from a professional scientist to an emotionless shell of a woman in a split second. The insanity that he'd sworn he'd seen in her eyes before shone slightly in the pale blue depths, and along with that, a light crackle of energy hovered underneath the surface of her consciousness.
“I don't know, and I don't care.” Suddenly Diana's blue eyes narrowed. “How did you know I was adopted?”
Vegeta crossed his arms and glared at her. “It's obvious you're not human, idiot.” He sniffed haughtily at her and rolled his eyes. “You're Saiya-jin. I can smell it on you.”
Diana suddenly barked a dry laugh, making Vegeta's eyes narrow in great anger. No one, not even Kakarot, had ever dared to laugh at him to his face, and he was again, surprised by the sheer brashness of the female that stood in front of him. “Look, I, of all people, know that humans aren't the only creatures in the universe, but I assure you that I'm perfectly human.” She denied. Her eyes had darkened considerably, and Vegeta could tell that she was hiding something, no matter how hard she tried to deny it. He stepped forward, and immediately, she rose to the challenge, her chin raising and her fists clenching.
Vegeta was at a crossroads with this woman. He could prove her heritage to her and maybe get some full blooded heirs out of her, or he could leave her to believe her weak lies about her origins and allow her to live her life in hatred with no escape from the overwhelming Saiya-jin emotions that pounded through her veins. He made his decision the moment her blue eyes flickered at him in annoyance and trepidation.
“Let me prove it to you.” He nearly purred. Immediately, her knees went weak, but she maintained her position, not backing down. No one scared her like this, and she was growing increasingly more worried about the reactions that were about to take place. “You dream, don't you?” He demanded. The reaction to that statement was immediate. Like lighting, Diana's fist connected with the palm of Vegeta's right hand mere centimeters from his face, and he smirked at her.
“Bastard. Shut up.” She snarled.
He pulled on her hand, and she unwillingly went to stand close to his chest, his sweet cinnamon breath caressing her skin and making the dark wisps of hair dance along her perfect skin. “You dream of a place that's red, hot, and barren. It's so beautiful in your eyes, isn't it, wench?”
“No, that's not my dreams.” She growled at him. She wrenched her hand free and pushed him away from her, but it was like pushing on a brick wall, and she ended up pushing herself into the wall again. “My dreams are plagued with rage.” She snapped. Vegeta stepped closer to her.
“What kind of rage?” He asked smoothly. The rasping voice was raking over her senses like a breath against her neck, and she didn't understand her body's demands. She was never affected this way by anyone, and she felt her cool resolve slip at the Prince's advance towards her.
“Hatred. With no rhyme or reason.” She answered quietly. She didn't want to talk about this anymore, and she didn't want to talk to this strange man who seemed to know everything about her. “A man with a beautiful face who only hates. He's insane.” She closed her eyes and turned her face away from Vegeta as he neared her, his white gloved hands going to restrain her hands by her side. “Get off me, you fucking nutcase.” She snarled at him coldly.
The very moment that he touched her, Diana felt an overwhelming urge to bare her neck to him, and she fought it viciously. Never before had she ever wanted to act so stupidly in front of a man, and yet this one seemed to command her body and force her reactions to his proximity. Her scent was starting to rise again, and she clenched her eyes shut in shame at her loss of control of the situation, and she growled deep in her chest at the observation that Vegeta was very much enjoying her torture.
He felt her power before he watched it flare around her. It crackled underneath the surface, and just as before, the thin threads of control she had placed so carefully around it began to break one by one, and soon, her ki flared around them, causing papers in the workroom to fly. His body instinctively pressed hers against the wall, his neck pressing against hers, dominance pouring from his body like a powerful water fall over a tall cliff. He knew exactly what she fought, and he would demand submission from her in order to teach her to control it. All Saiya-jin women would submit to someone, and she would submit to him.
It was at that point that Diana shrieked in frustration at being restrained, and Vegeta chose to use his knowledge instead of his instinct to prove to this woman that she was not human. “You have a scar at the base of your spine.” He growled softly in her ear. “I'll bet you don't know where it came from. It's about two inches in length and half an inch in width, and when someone presses against it, strokes it, or even breathes on it, you feel aroused and unaware of your surroundings. It weakens you.”
Diana gasped as a hand pressed to her lower back right above the scar through her shirt and lab coat, making her stomach clench in the familiar heat of lust. “How do you know that about me?” She demanded. “No one except my mother and a certain person knows about that scar!”
“Baka, you're Saiya-jin. A full blood at that.” He still pressed himself against her, the power of her body still seeping into him, warming his blood and reminding him how beautiful she was. “Saiya-jins have tails, and there is not one left now that has one.” He paused. “How did you hide yourself from me for so long?” He demanded. His lips were brushing her neck, and she squirmed underneath the unwanted attention, a small cry of protest escaping her throat.
“Let me go. I don't know what you're babbling about!” She pushed at him half-heartedly, but the terrifying fact was that she wanted him to stay closer to her. He made her feel safe for the first time in her life, and she wanted that feeling to remain with her, but at the same time, he scared her and made her week in the knees. He was causing sweet arousal and heat to pool in her lower belly just by his voice, and the most he squirmed against his body, the more muscles she felt pressing against her like steel.
“Not until you drop your power level.” He answered back in his rough-smooth voice. “Have you ever been trained to fight?” He asked quietly. He was absorbing as much of her energy as possible, but the bright green ki still flared around them, and he felt that he'd reached a safe limit and chose to say at that limit. He felt her struggling to pull the energy back into herself, but she was having a difficult time of it. Vegeta had felt a ki signature like this before, but he couldn't put a finger on where he'd felt it previously.
“I-I have been trained to fight in several different forms of martial arts since I was four.” She replied. “I was banned from practicing and competing in the United States.” She bit out harshly. Vegeta nodded against her neck, understanding that she had lacked the proper instruction to control her strength, emotion, and power.
“Do you believe me yet?” He growled at her.
“No.” She answered. “I'm human. I look human. I act human.”
“But you are not!” He snarled against her skin. She stiffened immediately, and her neck tilted to the side slightly, making Vegeta smirk in knowledge that his plan was indeed working. It would do no good to fight her with her power levels out of control, and it would do no good to force her to submit. Instead, he held her back from hurting herself against the wall and waited for her to either submit or drop her power level. In the end, her decision would affect him instinctually
He chose to do the unthinkable to a Saiya-jin, and he gently slide his fingertips to her lower back, still lightly gripping her wrist, and began a tantalizing stroking. When she suddenly let out a sharp breath and her ki wavered, Vegeta smirked. “Then believe me now.” He growled. He began the slow stroking of that spot right over her scar, and she started to whimper softly, her scent spiking and nearly driving the Prince insane as he worked to lower her power level. “When Saiya-jins have their tails touched, they lose their power. It is our biggest weakness.” He explained.
Diana, in the meantime, was trying to control the strange emotions that she had so carefully barricaded in the back of her mind. Insane thoughts of death, blood, and abuse filled her mind as her power level sank, and she suddenly closed her eyes as a vision of a bright red planet filled her mind, and something clicked inside of her. It was as if though she remembered her purpose after forgetting briefly, and her pale blue eyes snapped open. “Vegeta-sei.” She
whispered.
“I see your programming is still slightly intact.” Vegeta stated flatly. His fingertips were still continuing the maddening stroking on her lower back, and as conscious thought flowed into her mind like a fresh wind, she realized that indeed, she had reabsorbed her power, and all that was left was the strange man pressing her against the wall, his fingers doing delicious things to her body without even touching anything but her back.
“Get off me.” She snapped. Vegeta allowed her flight this time, and without a second look to him, she burst her way out of the lab in long strides, fleeing the nightmares that would now plague her during her waking moments.
At first Trunks wanted to kill his father for sporting with Goten, but an odd thing happened that stopped Trunks from acting on his rage. Goten became happier in his day to day life without Goku, and for some strange reason, Trunks believed it had something to do with Vegeta. He couldn't put his finger on why Goten had changed back to his old self, and then it occurred to him that maybe in hurting him, Vegeta had provided some purpose to the boy's life other than just calling girls and getting a piece every once in a while. So as a result of watching his friend's attitude change for the better, he left his questions and accusations unvoiced, and he never let on that he knew about their sins.
The sickening feeling that he was a second to his father always plagued his mind when he was around Goten, but when he gazed at Trunks with those large, adoring chocolate eyes, he was sure that he held his place firmly in his friend's heart. It jumped back and forth from bitterness to resignation throughout the months that he was aware of Vegeta's involvement with young Goten, and he wasn't sure which one he held in higher regard. The simple issue was that Trunks didn't know how to handle any emotion, much less disgust, jealousy, and the feeling of betrayal, and he grabbed tight to his ability to push his emotions away from himself and held on for dear life.
It wasn't the fact that Vegeta's secretive sexual play with Goten hurt Trunks, but what bothered him the most was that he wasn't the one in Goten's bed. The absolute truth of the matter was that no matter how adept Trunks was to separating himself from his emotions, he loved Goten and would have done anything for the boy short of destroying the world. Love had a funny and painful way of worming its way into Trunks' heart over the years, but after all the times of watching Goten find sexual partners and play things, the pain numbed, and all Trunks felt was a mild reproach at Goten's promiscuity.
What confused Trunks was Goten's never ending supply of innocence throughout all of his sexual conquests and party nights at the club. It led Trunks to believe that the status of innocence didn't depend on one's sexual experience. After all, Son Goku had a legendary sexual appetite, according to Gohan, and he maintained his innocence to the day that he was taken away by the dragon. Trunks realized that Goten was incapable of hating anyone, and thus, he maintained his innocence well. Trunks had a deep hatred for the androids, and Vegeta still hated the memory of Frieza for the destruction of Vegeta-sei. Goten hated no one.
That brought Trunks to his next thought. Diana seemed no innocent, and he wondered who it was that she hated so passionately that she would bring her pain and disgust for life into other people's existence. At that point, before allowing himself to loathe her, Trunks allowed a brief amount of pity to spill forth from his locker of emotions before he threw the padlock on it again to keep the damn feelings quiet before they took over his being. He had allowed his feelings to get the best of him there in the club in front of Goten, and he was ashamed of himself.
Vegeta would have beat the hell out of him for showing such weakness, and Trunks swore to himself he'd never lose control again. His submission to Goten was, in itself, an oddity of sorts. He would have never submitted to anyone but Goten, and he bit back the amount of bitterness that welled up in his throat at the thought that Goten never even noticed him when it came to attentions. Goten hadn't wanted his submission.
He was right there! Right there at Goten's fingertips offering his friendship and his love, and the youngest Son didn't even recognize the offer and chance to be close to Trunks in any other way but platonic. Surely Goten had noticed his attentions by now, but Trunks shook his head to himself in mock sorrow and sarcasm. Goten was thicker than a lead wall lined with iron bricks, and if anything would make him see the light, it would be Vegeta. It was ironic to Trunks that Vegeta really didn't love Goten, but the boy obviously held some type of obsession or love for the Saiya-jin prince, and Trunks stood strong the entire time, waiting. He always waited.
The youngest Son's personality had become somewhat bland and stoic after Goku's departure, and Trunks took it upon himself to help the boy, but no matter how much sparring, clubbing, or eating the duo involved themselves with, Goten still seemed depressed and listless. Trunks worried and stayed up sleepless nights, feeling the dwindling ki of his friend, and he closed his eyes many times, trying to reach out to Goten and give him at least a piece of his own life, but the boy had lost the will to live without his father's guidance. It got nearly so bad that one day, during a spar with Vegeta, Goten stepped in front of a blast that was aimed for Trunks and nearly killed himself. Goten swore he was protecting his best friend, but Trunks and Vegeta both knew that Goten had wanted to die.
The first night he'd smelled Goten on Vegeta's clothes, Trunks dismissed it as a sparring match gotten too rough, but that still didn't explain the traces of arousal he scented on his father one night while passing him in the hall. Trunks wanted to ask questions, but instead, he did as always and watched. He watched Goten through the daily routine, and nothing seemed to change except that the boy had become more competitive and brash, much like he was before Goku left. So Trunks stopped wondering about Vegeta's actions with Goten, and he refused to answer his own questions. Whatever Vegeta had done fixed the problem. Now, the problem was the fact that Vegeta never stopped trying to fix the problem.
Making love to Goten in the club in front of that…monster. He shuddered and closed his cerulean blue eyes in pain and shock at his own actions. He had never acted so wantonly before, and he had no clue what had driven him to it this one time out of his entire life as a good son and upstanding citizen. That woman. Those blue eyes. There was something about her that made his blood run cold, and yet, he was driven to be fascinated by her like a moth was fascinated by a brightly burning fire. A scent wrapped around her that set his blood aflame and made him want to be dominant and submissive at the same time. He found himself hating her with so much fiery passion that it nearly drove him to transform, but he wrapped his energy up and stored it for a later date when it might be needed.
Trunks pushed himself off his door and threw his jacket on the chair next to his bed and his hands wandered to his shirt to unbutton it, his thoughts flitting back to deft, gentle fingers that had divested him of it so quickly. He shook the thought away and tried to press emotions down as he was accustomed to, but he kept seeing the chocolate eyes, filled with possessiveness and obsession. He bit back the bitter thoughts of how Goten cried out his father's name, and he pulled the shirt off, tossing in the hamper to his left. His blue eyes followed around the room to the usual friendly clutter, and he sighed in annoyance.
The next day would be fairly interesting, being forced to work with that woman in the lab, watching her work equations like the obvious genius that she was. He wondered if she'd look at him any differently than she had before, but he shook those thoughts out of his head as well. It would do no good to brood over business, and he could only hope that the brash bitch could hold her own when it came to being a genius in the lab. As he pulled on a tank top and some silk pajama pants, a sharp rap at the door startled him, and then he sighed when he realized exactly who the knock belonged to.
“Come in.” He said listlessly. He began to subconsciously pick up the clutter as Vegeta stepped into his room and looked around, his dark eyes strangely suspicious. He gazed at his son for a moment and then cleared his throat.
“Where's that other brat?” He demanded harshly. “I smell his stench.” Trunks shook his head lightly in slight amusement at his father's never ending lack of rudeness. Vegeta's eyes suddenly registered shock as Trunks passed him with his jacket, and his nostrils flared. Trunks knew he'd made a mistake the moment he'd grabbed the jacket to hang it up, and he flinched as Vegeta grabbed his wrist with the jack and pulled him to a stop. “You never clean your room. You make the maids do it, brat, and don't think that I can't smell him all over you and your clothes.”
Trunks jerked away from Vegeta and gazed at him with darkened blue eyes. He hoped to whatever gods that there were that he could control his quickly rising temper with his father. It would do no good to have fighting in the house with his aging and nervous mother just a floor below them. “It's none of your business, Dad.” He answered more sharply than he'd intended. Vegeta stared at his son in shock. There used to be nothing that the boy wouldn't tell him, and now, the young prince was blatantly shutting him out of his extra curricular affairs, and it bothered him.
“Don't talk to me like I'm some low class baka like that damn brat you hang around with.” Vegeta snorted at his son. “You will respect me. I'm the prince of all…”
“Yeah. I know, Dad.” Trunks cut him off. Vegeta's face reddened slightly at his son's strange and sudden disrespect. He tilted his head slightly and then let his son go, allowing Trunks to continue nervously picking up the clutter in his room piece by piece as the quietly observing prince stood in the door way. He stepped in fully and closed the door behind him, making the lavender haired boy stop his actions and turn to his father.
Vegeta spoke, his voice dark and quiet. “I thought you understood my point, boy.” He glared daggers at Trunks, but in his emotional displacement and mild listlessness, Trunks had grown slightly braver and less respectful as he raised his blue eyes to his father's and glared at him with a hovering hatred.
“You're fucking Goten? Yeah, I got your point.” Trunks bit out at him. Vegeta's eyes widened and then narrowed at his son as he stepped up to the verbal challenge his heir had just issued.
“That is none of YOUR business, brat.” He growled dangerously. He could feel his son's energy level starting to fluctuate with his rising temper, and out of sheer curiosity of how far he could push him, Vegeta smirked. “But if you must know, he enjoys every minute of it.”
The insanity that Trunks feared shone brightly in his father's eyes, and just as he had felt pity for Diana, he now felt it for his father's lost soul. Trunks missed Goku immensely, but his friendship with Goku had not been his reason for living, and in turn, he couldn't imagine what it would have been like to have his entire reason for being pulled away by circumstances he could not help. Still, it didn't help the fact that Trunks was growing more and more angry.
Trunks clenched his fists and glared at his father directly in the eye, challenging him to rebut the next statement. “Get out.” He snarled. Vegeta crossed his arms and stared evenly back at his son, and that, was Trunks' breaking point. He rushed his father, and grabbing his arm, he yanked the door open and tried to shove the bigger man through it. “Get the hell out of my room!” He snapped.
“You stupid…” Vegeta turned to hit his son, but he met a fist in the face as Trunks beat him to the punch line. Another fist hit him while he was still in shock, and he found himself in the hall, against the wall, Trunks' fist raised to pound him again. The rage in the boy's eyes was unmistakable, but Vegeta prided himself in the next emotion that he identified in the azure eyes of the prince. Trunks was hurt. It flowed out of his mouth when he breathed, and his body shook with the growing rage that the emotional pain began to accumulate in his body. He backed away slowly, planning on going back to his room, but his escape was short lived.
Vegeta smirked at Trunks and grabbed his shirt, and proceeded to drag his son down the hall towards the balcony doors. “If we're going to fight, let's do it where the wench won't be shrieking at us to stop.” In his insanity, Vegeta had missed the brutal sparring matches between Goku and himself that left him breathing hard, clutching at trees to remain standing, and flattening out entire mountains and hills for victory. He wanted to fight Trunks just for the sake of not being bored any longer.
Vegeta's eyes held the excitement of a coming battle, but that was also short lived as Trunks ground himself to a screeching halt on the floor and twisted out of his father's grasp. He glared at his father and uttered the most insulting words that the Saiya-jin prince had ever heard in his life. “I wouldn't fight you if you were the last man on Earth.” He sneered. “You're nothing to me. You're a shell of a man that used to be great. Now all you are is a lunatic!” With that, Trunks spun on his heel, leaving Vegeta in the hall, gaping at the harsh words he never thought he'd hear from his son.
*******************
When Trunks neared the lab the next morning with his father next to him, his nose wrinkled in distaste of the acrid smell of cigarettes and his ears ached at the steady pounding of techno music. Vegeta looked at his son in strained question, but Trunks only shook his head. When they stepped through the swinging doors into the first work room of the lab, Trunks was both amazed and horrified at the simple picture before him. The wild creature of the night had traded in her demon wings, and before him stood a perfectly professional scientist, leaned against the wall, staring at a board of Vegeta's complex equations.
She glanced up at Trunks, and immediately, she set to action, turning down the music and snuffing her cigarette out in an ashtray that Trunks didn't remember seeing in the lab before. She quickly straightened her white lab coat and her conservative skirt underneath, and she looked up at him. The eyes that had held a world of dark emotional information before were now empty and blank as she gazed at him evenly.
Diana's long ebony hair had been restrained in a prudish braid, and the pale blue eyes
were covered by stylish black rimmed glasses. Trunks' almost felt his jaw drop, but when the pale blue eyes met his, he nearly felt his heart stop in his chest, but she didn't let on that she knew him any other way but professionally as she offered her hand to him and a professional smile, pointedly ignoring the man behind him until she had greeted him. “Mr. Briefs! I hope you don't mind, but your mother gave me the key to the lab a few days ago so that I could examine the work so far on the sonic drive that you've got on the board.”
Trunks shook his head, and offered the same professional courtesy and shook her hand. “No, it's alright. I'm glad someone was here before we were. Here. Let me introduce you to my father, Vegeta. He's the one who came up with the theory.” Vegeta stepped forward, and he offered his gloved hand, but when eerie blue eyes met charcoal black, time stopped for Diana. Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to say something, but Vegeta had already taken her hand and held it in a nearly bone crunching grip, making her wince in slight pain.
“It's a pleasure.” He gritted out as he continued to shake her hand. Trunks laid a hand on his father's shoulder and whispered something to which Vegeta nodded. He turned to Diana and offered her a fake smile.
“I'm leaving my father here with you, and I've got to do some paperwork at the office.
Call me if you come up with anything.” Trunks exited the lab quickly, leaving the two enemies staring at each other in shock. Diana's blue eyes followed Vegeta's form in the faded blue jeans and the black shirt, and she nearly laughed at the difference between this warrior and the one whom she'd blasted into the ground. He released her hand, and she gingerly shook it in reproach. She gingerly pulled her glasses away from her face, allowing several stray wisps of black hair to caress her cheeks sensually while she gazed at the still staring Saiya-jin prince.
She tilted her head slightly, and then a slow smile spread across her face. The smile, Vegeta recognized, was slightly malicious and slightly sheepish as she stared at him with a mild amount of guilt. “I'm glad to see that my attack didn't do a significant amount of damage to you.” She wiped her glasses absently with her shirt hem, and Vegeta summoned up the gall to smirk at the unpredictable creature.
“As if your puny attack could do damage to me.” He scoffed haughtily. Her eyebrows shot up in mock shock of his pride and then, she smirked in return.
“It's not like you did all that much damage to me either, Mr. Vanity.” Vegeta's eyes flew wide, and he stared at her with suspicion. The woman was blatantly messing with him, and he wanted to know why. No woman, Saiya-jin or mortal had ever flirted with him willingly, so either this girl was very powerful, or she was very stupid. He stepped closer to her, and immediately, he inhaled deeply, searching for the powerful, heady scent that had set him on fire before, only to find it lightly subdued and meticulously scrubbed away with lye soap and sweet rose water. She gazed evenly at him with a slight malice in her eyes.
“The scent.” He clarified. Diana still gazed at him in feigned boredom without saying a word, and he rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Your scent, wench. The one that makes all the men follow you around like lovesick puppies.” A sudden understanding dawned in her eyes, and she turned away from him towards the board.
“I didn't mean to wash it off. I just needed a bath after my excursion last night. I felt filthy.” She pointed to the board of equations and looked over her shoulder at Vegeta. “Is this your work?”
Vegeta nodded. “Yes, and if you change any of it, I'll see to it that you never work in a lab again.”
Diana snorted at him and chuckled mildly. “Too late. You had a major flaw in one of the weight displacement theories. The mechanics of taking off on Earth require a little less power than you had placed. It's like you were planning on taking off of Jupiter or something.” Her voice wasn't accusing or even jeering. Instead, Vegeta found himself oddly intrigued by her understanding of the workings of gravity and weight displacement.
“You should have said something before you screwed up my hard work.” Snapped Vegeta as he pushed past her to examine the board. She tilted her head slightly and crossed her long arms across her chest, pushing her glasses up her nose. She watched him quietly as he worked the math out on the board, then, after a few minutes, he stood back, his eyes wide. “Where did you learn how to work theorem like this?” He demanded.
“I guess I was born with it.” Diana shrugged her shoulders. “I was doing college math by the time I was seven, and I had a degree in physics by the time was fifteen. Call it natural talent for math. It's about the only thing I'm good at.” The entire time she spoke, Vegeta had not removed his eyes from her, and it was becoming almost unbearable. She didn't fidget or show discomfort at his scrutiny, but she felt as if though he was looking right through her with his piercing eyes
“So you think that if we lessen the weight displacement, it will make the drive take off easier?” He clarified without looking at the board.
Diana nodded. “Weight is very important with speed, correct? Especially when pulling
away from any type of gravity, whether it be Earth or Pluto for that matter. Unfortunately, the problem I see us coming up against is how to set the weight displacement so that the ship can take off from multiple gravity forces.” She stared at the board, even as Vegeta stared at her. He couldn't get over the sickening feeling of slight fear and familiarity that surrounded the beauty in front of him, and he chose to break the conversation away from work.
“Who is your father?” He asked suddenly, his eyes narrowing.
“Jack Shelton.” She returned easily. She turned towards him, her blue eyes still stoic and cold, and then asked her own question. “Why?”
“No. Not that baka.” Vegeta sighed in exasperation. “Who is your biological father?” He was shocked when Diana's eyes suddenly went blank and dull, and she seemed to shut out her emotions, going from a professional scientist to an emotionless shell of a woman in a split second. The insanity that he'd sworn he'd seen in her eyes before shone slightly in the pale blue depths, and along with that, a light crackle of energy hovered underneath the surface of her consciousness.
“I don't know, and I don't care.” Suddenly Diana's blue eyes narrowed. “How did you know I was adopted?”
Vegeta crossed his arms and glared at her. “It's obvious you're not human, idiot.” He sniffed haughtily at her and rolled his eyes. “You're Saiya-jin. I can smell it on you.”
Diana suddenly barked a dry laugh, making Vegeta's eyes narrow in great anger. No one, not even Kakarot, had ever dared to laugh at him to his face, and he was again, surprised by the sheer brashness of the female that stood in front of him. “Look, I, of all people, know that humans aren't the only creatures in the universe, but I assure you that I'm perfectly human.” She denied. Her eyes had darkened considerably, and Vegeta could tell that she was hiding something, no matter how hard she tried to deny it. He stepped forward, and immediately, she rose to the challenge, her chin raising and her fists clenching.
Vegeta was at a crossroads with this woman. He could prove her heritage to her and maybe get some full blooded heirs out of her, or he could leave her to believe her weak lies about her origins and allow her to live her life in hatred with no escape from the overwhelming Saiya-jin emotions that pounded through her veins. He made his decision the moment her blue eyes flickered at him in annoyance and trepidation.
“Let me prove it to you.” He nearly purred. Immediately, her knees went weak, but she maintained her position, not backing down. No one scared her like this, and she was growing increasingly more worried about the reactions that were about to take place. “You dream, don't you?” He demanded. The reaction to that statement was immediate. Like lighting, Diana's fist connected with the palm of Vegeta's right hand mere centimeters from his face, and he smirked at her.
“Bastard. Shut up.” She snarled.
He pulled on her hand, and she unwillingly went to stand close to his chest, his sweet cinnamon breath caressing her skin and making the dark wisps of hair dance along her perfect skin. “You dream of a place that's red, hot, and barren. It's so beautiful in your eyes, isn't it, wench?”
“No, that's not my dreams.” She growled at him. She wrenched her hand free and pushed him away from her, but it was like pushing on a brick wall, and she ended up pushing herself into the wall again. “My dreams are plagued with rage.” She snapped. Vegeta stepped closer to her.
“What kind of rage?” He asked smoothly. The rasping voice was raking over her senses like a breath against her neck, and she didn't understand her body's demands. She was never affected this way by anyone, and she felt her cool resolve slip at the Prince's advance towards her.
“Hatred. With no rhyme or reason.” She answered quietly. She didn't want to talk about this anymore, and she didn't want to talk to this strange man who seemed to know everything about her. “A man with a beautiful face who only hates. He's insane.” She closed her eyes and turned her face away from Vegeta as he neared her, his white gloved hands going to restrain her hands by her side. “Get off me, you fucking nutcase.” She snarled at him coldly.
The very moment that he touched her, Diana felt an overwhelming urge to bare her neck to him, and she fought it viciously. Never before had she ever wanted to act so stupidly in front of a man, and yet this one seemed to command her body and force her reactions to his proximity. Her scent was starting to rise again, and she clenched her eyes shut in shame at her loss of control of the situation, and she growled deep in her chest at the observation that Vegeta was very much enjoying her torture.
He felt her power before he watched it flare around her. It crackled underneath the surface, and just as before, the thin threads of control she had placed so carefully around it began to break one by one, and soon, her ki flared around them, causing papers in the workroom to fly. His body instinctively pressed hers against the wall, his neck pressing against hers, dominance pouring from his body like a powerful water fall over a tall cliff. He knew exactly what she fought, and he would demand submission from her in order to teach her to control it. All Saiya-jin women would submit to someone, and she would submit to him.
It was at that point that Diana shrieked in frustration at being restrained, and Vegeta chose to use his knowledge instead of his instinct to prove to this woman that she was not human. “You have a scar at the base of your spine.” He growled softly in her ear. “I'll bet you don't know where it came from. It's about two inches in length and half an inch in width, and when someone presses against it, strokes it, or even breathes on it, you feel aroused and unaware of your surroundings. It weakens you.”
Diana gasped as a hand pressed to her lower back right above the scar through her shirt and lab coat, making her stomach clench in the familiar heat of lust. “How do you know that about me?” She demanded. “No one except my mother and a certain person knows about that scar!”
“Baka, you're Saiya-jin. A full blood at that.” He still pressed himself against her, the power of her body still seeping into him, warming his blood and reminding him how beautiful she was. “Saiya-jins have tails, and there is not one left now that has one.” He paused. “How did you hide yourself from me for so long?” He demanded. His lips were brushing her neck, and she squirmed underneath the unwanted attention, a small cry of protest escaping her throat.
“Let me go. I don't know what you're babbling about!” She pushed at him half-heartedly, but the terrifying fact was that she wanted him to stay closer to her. He made her feel safe for the first time in her life, and she wanted that feeling to remain with her, but at the same time, he scared her and made her week in the knees. He was causing sweet arousal and heat to pool in her lower belly just by his voice, and the most he squirmed against his body, the more muscles she felt pressing against her like steel.
“Not until you drop your power level.” He answered back in his rough-smooth voice. “Have you ever been trained to fight?” He asked quietly. He was absorbing as much of her energy as possible, but the bright green ki still flared around them, and he felt that he'd reached a safe limit and chose to say at that limit. He felt her struggling to pull the energy back into herself, but she was having a difficult time of it. Vegeta had felt a ki signature like this before, but he couldn't put a finger on where he'd felt it previously.
“I-I have been trained to fight in several different forms of martial arts since I was four.” She replied. “I was banned from practicing and competing in the United States.” She bit out harshly. Vegeta nodded against her neck, understanding that she had lacked the proper instruction to control her strength, emotion, and power.
“Do you believe me yet?” He growled at her.
“No.” She answered. “I'm human. I look human. I act human.”
“But you are not!” He snarled against her skin. She stiffened immediately, and her neck tilted to the side slightly, making Vegeta smirk in knowledge that his plan was indeed working. It would do no good to fight her with her power levels out of control, and it would do no good to force her to submit. Instead, he held her back from hurting herself against the wall and waited for her to either submit or drop her power level. In the end, her decision would affect him instinctually
He chose to do the unthinkable to a Saiya-jin, and he gently slide his fingertips to her lower back, still lightly gripping her wrist, and began a tantalizing stroking. When she suddenly let out a sharp breath and her ki wavered, Vegeta smirked. “Then believe me now.” He growled. He began the slow stroking of that spot right over her scar, and she started to whimper softly, her scent spiking and nearly driving the Prince insane as he worked to lower her power level. “When Saiya-jins have their tails touched, they lose their power. It is our biggest weakness.” He explained.
Diana, in the meantime, was trying to control the strange emotions that she had so carefully barricaded in the back of her mind. Insane thoughts of death, blood, and abuse filled her mind as her power level sank, and she suddenly closed her eyes as a vision of a bright red planet filled her mind, and something clicked inside of her. It was as if though she remembered her purpose after forgetting briefly, and her pale blue eyes snapped open. “Vegeta-sei.” She
whispered.
“I see your programming is still slightly intact.” Vegeta stated flatly. His fingertips were still continuing the maddening stroking on her lower back, and as conscious thought flowed into her mind like a fresh wind, she realized that indeed, she had reabsorbed her power, and all that was left was the strange man pressing her against the wall, his fingers doing delicious things to her body without even touching anything but her back.
“Get off me.” She snapped. Vegeta allowed her flight this time, and without a second look to him, she burst her way out of the lab in long strides, fleeing the nightmares that would now plague her during her waking moments.