Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Burning Leftovers of Temporary Madness ❯ Chapter 18 ( Chapter 18 )

We enter through the kitchen, no one saying a word at our slightly late entrance. I suppose what the Namek and I do are considered private matters. And the fact that we left and came back together assuages everyone’s fears over our doing anything. The Namek and I may get along just fine, but I feel that if we think something needs to be done, we’d prefer not to involve the other.

“I fixed spaghetti. I hope you don’t mind.”

I blink at Marron, a little put-off by the statements. “No, of course not. It’ll be good for us to eat well cooked food.”

She takes the awkward words as the compliments they were meant to be and I sit down, the Namek sitting next to me and sipping at his water.

Trunks moves to open his mouth and there’s suddenly a knock at the front door.

Before any of us can move to it, and it looks like only Marron has moved, a familiar face walks into the room. Ah…that’s what Trunks was going to say.

“Hello, sweetie!”

I can’t help but smirk and chuckle as Trunks turns a bright russet in color, glaring at Seventeen in a way that promises retribution. “Hello, Seventeen. You’re just in time for dinner.”

The android glances around the table, sees there is no chair, and daintily picks his way over to Trunks, sitting on his lap. I stifle a snicker, digging into my food.

Trunks stutters some and the android seems to ignore him, leaning forward as everyone at the table watches and grabbing up the fork with spaghetti on it that Trunks still holds. He moves it toward Trunks’s mouth and the boy…opens his mouth to accept the food.

I never quite imagined that he would do such a thing in public, and his red face indicates embarrassment, but the glare with it also indicates that he none-too-pleased. That’s probably why the android leans in and kisses him.

I grumble something under my breath and I’m pretty sure Trunks catches the hint, as he straightens himself and the android. He takes the fork from the other’s hand and bends to the task of his food. The android pouts.

It only takes us a few minutes to finish eating, for those who actually ate that is. I do not look over at Trunks and the tin can, as the android is very…bold.

I stand and almost the entire table turns to me, except for Piccolo and Marron, the former, who just stands beside me, and the latter, who collects my plate to wash it. I raise a brow at the expectant eyes.

“Goodnight.”

This is obviously not what they want to hear, but it is all they are getting tonight. Everyone will have whatever rest can be gotten. Tomorrow we would deal with…things.

Piccolo moves to walk slightly to the side and behind me as I turn and leave the room. I do have to look at him. He just places a hand on my lower back. Some of us will be resting restlessly tonight. <* …*…*>

I’m already in the kitchen, sitting at the table and sipping at my coffee, when Trunks stumbles into the room. I raise an eyebrow at his disheveled appearance. Despite this, he looks to have rested well. He looks as if he was fucked to sleep. “I see the tin can is good for something.”

He jumps and whirls around, then blushes. “Yeah….” He moves on to get his own cup of coffee and sits down next to him. “Where’s Piccolo.”

“Meditating.” My fingers drum on the table. “He’s quite agitated.”

“I can imagine.”

“I did not realize…this affected him this much. But I can see why it has. He has taken…something from all of us.” My eyes run over him, brow creasing at the…old look my son is beginning to project. “He won’t take any more.”

Trunks swallows thickly, meeting my eyes and coloring slightly before nodding and drinking from his coffee.

There is silence until the others slowly start to filter in. The android is studiously missing, but I imagine he doesn’t do gatherings such as these. He doesn’t seem…a people person. And I, of all people, should know.

Piccolo is the last to walk in, coming to stand behind my chair. My hand reaches back, gripping his arm and drawing him to take a seat beside me. It is imperative I see his face. I need to know if he can do this.

A throat clears and everyone turns to look at Goten. “Um, we’ve all slept on it.”

There are mumbled agreements and I smirk lightly. “Yes, we all have. Now it was suggested that we confront him, and it was suggested we punish him. I propose that we do both.”

There’s a sound, probably from Gorika, and another from Piccolo. It would surprise me, but the Namek has turned out exceptionally protective. “I do not think…that death is an appropriate punishment.

“We all know Kakarott has died many times. It has no meaning to him anymore. It didn’t have any meaning for any of us…until it was not only unfair, but also irreversible. He has…wronged too many people. He has…taken from too many people.”

No one speaks now. I take another drink from my coffee before continuing. “I can sit here and tell you what he told me. But it would be better if you received the explanation from his own mouth. He may or not choose to say anything, but he will be demanded to do one thing…and only one thing.”

The silence takes on a life, asking the question no one makes audible.

“He will be required to release her. I believe this will…reverse the ill effects.” Here some eyes turn toward Trunks, who shifts in his seat but is silent.

“I do believe he will cooperate. I believe he is beyond all reasoning. I know some of you do not believe me. This is why we confront him. I want all of you to see for yourself. Once we are committed to this path, not a one of us can turn around, or we will kill our fellows.”

There is silence after I finish, and I sit still, drinking from my cup of coffee. Marron moves to the pot and carries it back to me, refilling it. I incline my head to her.

I feel a pressure on my leg and look over at Piccolo, whose own eyes ask a question. I clear my throat so that attention is brought back to me.

“I believe he will turn on us when we confront him. I believe he will call her. And when he calls her, when that ki is felt, that is when action will be taken. I cannot tell you that action. But…it will end things satisfactorily for all parties involved.” I turn to look at Piccolo, who nods his head; though I can tell he wants details.

They all want details, but I do give them. I know what vengeance does. It may be selfish, but I will bear this burden. It is—

I stand then. “Alright. Everyone put something in your stomachs. We leave in an hour.”

There is milling about, and then the room slowly empties. I turn to leave myself before a hand on my arm stops me.

“I want to help.”

I blink at Gorika and nod slowly. “You’ll be there of course, when we confront him.”

She shakes her head and leans forward, eyes shining with tears I feel uncomfortable looking at. “No…I want to help stop him.”

I stand there for a moment, then I look pointedly at the hand on my arm. She flushes and lets it drop. I look back at her, then tilt my head. “Why?”

She fidgets a little. “I didn’t want to believe…but…if he is…I mean…. I don’t want someone else to…punish him.”

I find myself…admiring that. I give a little nod. “You can’t tell anyone else what is going to happen. If you do—”

“I won’t. And…” she holds out a folded piece of paper, “could you give this to him. Tell him it’s from me? Make sure he reads it…before….”

“I’ll give it to him as soon as he appears, before any words are said.”

She nods and bites at her lower lip and I motion with my head. She follows me out of the room.

I stop before Trunks, seated on the couch, and frown. “Where’s Vulgur?”

He looks up and then tilts his head. “He said something about eating the green stuff outside.”

I grimace and turn to walk outside, opening the door and sticking my head out far enough to shout. “VULGUR!”

A head pops up from the trees, something dangling from between his lips. My grimace only grows as the horse-like part of Vulgur actually prances as it moves toward me. “Vegeta! This stuff tastes great!”

“Wonderful.” My tone is dry. “Swallow it. I need you assistance.”

“You mean you need my help.”

I grit my teeth, and then feel someone trying to push past me. I open up the door wider and Gorika steps past me, staring in unabashed curiosity at Vulgur. Unlike the rest of us, Gorika has not seen her fair share of aliens.

Vulgur immediately swallows what’s in his mouth, his hoofs doing this strange crisscross maneuver as he bows to Gorika, his arms completing with the move with a flourish. “Madam! My name is Vulgur. How do you do?”

Gorika giggles.

I snort and roll my eyes. “Not now, Vulgur! You can do introductions on the way!”

He huffs as he rises, almost, but not quite, glaring at me. “On the way to what?”

I toss him a round object, which he catches and fumbles with for a second before it is steady. He looks at it in confusion. “On the way to using that.”

I move out of the doorway completely and close the door. “What is it?”

Gorika, of course, recognizes it. “The dragon—”

My hand covers her mouth quickly, cutting off the rest. You can save explanations of that sort on the way too. You don’t have long.”

“It will take us too long!”

I shake my head. “It won’t take long at all. A couple hours at most. It’s all the time we need.”

I reach over and press the button on top. The screen turns on, showing a grid highlighted in green. “Press the button to turn it on and off, turn the button to zoom out or in.” I turn the button until a green dot starts to blink on the screen. “That is the first one. There are seven. Collect them all as fast as you can.”

Vulgur nods, playing with the button more, probably to keep from asking any questions.

I turn to Gorika. “You know what to say?” She nods her head slowly and I continue. “As soon as it appears you must say the words. He’ll know when it’s called and he’ll try to stop you. Don’t stare in awe. In fact, just close your eyes. He can move instantly to where you are…and I don’t know what he’ll do.”

“Wha-what words do you want me to say?”

I consider for a moment, thinking to tell her to come up with her own words, her own punishment. But wishes are tricky things. They can come back later and bite her on the ass.

I lean in, whispering the words that will seal Kakarott’s fate, and perhaps save others. <* …*…*>

We’re gathered outside the house, and I know everyone can tell that Gorika is absent. The paper is in my hands, but I say nothing. I say nothing about Gorika or her absence that is.

“We’re going to where I last saw him. We will all raise our ki. We will all wait for him. It might take him a while to show up, but he will show up. He’ll know what is happening.”

I smirk. “We’ll seem much like a group about to, as you humans would put it, lynch someone.”

There is no answering chuckles or amusement from the group around me, but I really can’t expect anyone to get my sense of humor. I turn to Piccolo, who merely raises an eyeridge at me. I roll my eyes and turn away. At least he could support me.

Maybe it was a bad joke.

“If there are no objections, we should go.”

No one answered, so we lifted off from the ground, heading toward the place where I had been. Piccolo and I lead with Trunks and Goten behind us.

I feel his hand touch and wrap around my own. I turn to look at him and grasp his hand in turn. He squeezes a little and I squeeze back.

Everyone is silent as we move. The mood is…very somber, and I’m sure everyone is thinking about the same things. They are thinking of what to say him, what he might say back, and the ending of this confrontation.

I veer downwards and every follows, landing around the spot where…he and I had last spoke. I stare at the water in the little stream and then turn to everyone. “Are we ready?”

There’s some nods of agreement and one ‘yes’. I turn my head and flare my ki, feeling everyone around me do the same.

And now…we wait.

It’s only a half hour until he comes. We probably made it a shorter time than it would have been since we flared our ki every five minutes. That was Trunks’s idea, and I’m more than grateful for it. We’re all tense enough without an added wait.

He looks at us all as we turn to look at him, and the tension in his form is visible. I push forward before he or anyone else can say anything, holding out the note. “It’s from Gorika.”

There’s some surprise from behind me, but Kakarott stares at me, and then the letter. His hand stretches out and takes the letter. I step back.

He gives us all a strange look before slowly unfolding the letter. We all watch as he scans the letter, the expressions on his face changing from confusion to sadness to confusion again.

Slowly the hand holding the letter lowers, and he looks at us. “You’re here to talk?”

I nod at him, then motion for Goten to come forward. It would be best if he heard from his own blood first.

Goten walks forward, moving toward his father, who tenses again and almost shuffles back. Goten sees the movement and stops. “Dad? We’re not…. Dad, we know…. But we—”

“You know what?”

He blinks and then tries again. “We know what you did to…to Bulma. We know you forced her.”

“I didn’t force her.”

There is silence for a moment and I don’t realize I’m grinding my teeth until a hand is placed on my back lightly, out of sight. Still, Kakarott turns to his eyes to me. “So they believed your words.”

“Not all of them.”

He looked confused, but Trunks steps forward. “Goku, I saw her. I—She…I’m dying.”

Kakarott seems to actually pause at this. Then his face crumbles. “I-I’m sorry, Trunks…. I…I can’t…I can’t do anything.”

“Yes, you can.”

Kakarott turns toward me again, and from the look in his eyes…. Yes, he knows what I mean. He knows what I want.

“You can’t have her back, Vegeta. You left her. You gave up all right to her.”

“She’s not a possession! Damnit Kakarott, this isn’t about us!”

“Yes it is. It’s always about us. It has been since the beginning, since that first time we met and you know it. It’s about us and our battle.

“I figured it out, Vegeta After you left I figured it all out. That first battle…we never finished it. We’ve been continuing it for all these years. We’ve always been fighting…even when we were at peace.”

Everyone around is staring at us, and it is clear that some are thinking what I already know. Kakarott is insane. “I put down my battle with you after Buu, Kakarott.”

He chuckles then. “No…you didn’t. I took her from you.”

I grind my teeth and start forward and feel myself jerked back sharply as a clawed hand bunches into my spandex and holds me. He couldn’t hold me if I didn’t let him. And I let him.

Kakarott’s eyes flicker to Piccolo, and he takes this instant to speak up. “You disgust me, Son. You say you are sorry because Trunks is dying, but you’re lying.”

Kakarott seems surprised by these words. He opens his mouth, but Piccolo snarls and cuts him off. His claws dig through the cloth.

“You’re son saw her too. You knew he did. You knew he was dying. You knew he was searching for you. And he died, Son. Where were you? Where were you when Gohan needed you?”

The silence stretches again as Kakarott shifts slightly. “I—Piccolo you don’t understand. I…I need her.”

I snarl then and press myself back on those claws, needing to feel the needle-like stab of them. They suddenly move and a hand smoothes over my back. The body behind me relaxes perceptibly. “You are insane.”

Kakarott fidgets again. “No. I’m just not what you wanted me to be. All these years, all this time, you’ve all expected certain things of me.” He laughs then, a short and sharp sound. “Vegeta let someone control him. He went insane during that Budokai. And after it was all over, after he recovered, you all just accepted him again….”

“He redeemed himself, dad. Even the dragon thought that. Dad…we need you to recover now…. Please, we need you….”

Kakarott’s eyes turn to the only son he has left. They narrow slightly, staring at him. It’s a look I know well. It’s a look that speaks of mistrust. How far gone is Kakarott that he mistrusts someone so like him?

Maybe that is why he mistrusts him….

Finally Kakarott’s face softens. “Goten…I’m sorry. But I can’t. I lost someone I loved once and I just…couldn’t do it again. I couldn’t be alone again.” He holds up a hand as Goten moves to speak. “I mean someone just for me, Goten, not just my family and friends.”

He turns his head to look at all of us. “So, I’m refusing to do what you want. Now what are you going to do?”

I can feel eyes shift to me and I move slightly, arms crossing over my chest. “We’re going to make you.”

Kakarott chuckles. “See? Our battle is never over.”

“It will be over soon.”

He shakes his head. “You’re right. But you forget I have a new weapon.”

There is a sound and movement all around me and I power up, hitting Super Saiyan and rising into the air. His action does not surprise me. “Everyone close your eyes!”

I do not know if anyone hears me, for very suddenly a black mass is in front of me. My breath leaves my lungs and I feel a coldness wash over me. But I know who it is. It’s her…. It’s…Bulma.

I lunge forward, arms opened wide as I grab her to me and pull her in close. “Keep your eyes closed! We just need time!”

As soon as the writhing form touches me I feel numb. She seems to slide around me, but I feel as if I’m holding something. As if I’m clutching a huge block of ice that isn’t melting. It clings and sticks with a burning pain so intense I can’t tell if it’s cold or hot.

I feel myself begin to tremble and hear someone cry out. It must have been me.

“Vegeta!”

“D-don’t you dare open your eyes!”

Piccolo’s form rises in front of me, eyes tightly screwed shut. I can see him from over her shoulder. “Are your eyes closed?”

I press my teeth together harder, muscles tensing to a point where they scream in pain. “Don’t you dare open your eyes! I’ve got her….”

“Vegeta….” He moves forward and I can hear a struggle beneath me, where Kakarott is.

“Stop! Don’t…I-I’ve got her!” I can feel my ki, even at this level, being leeched from me. It is draining so much faster than it should be. It’s making everything spin around me.

I feel arms grab my own, something holding me up even though I hadn’t realized I was starting to fall. I hiss my breath out even as Piccolo gasps. “What are you doing?!”

He stares at me with closed eyes. “Vegeta….” Then his eyes start to open.

My own eyes widen as I feel myself move, or rather something inside me move. “No!”

There is an explosion all around me. It’s a rush of light and wind that threatens to bowl me over if I weren’t standing in the middle of it. A weight presses against my back and I feel my scar, the one running from my chest down to my ankle, burn.

Piccolo is thrown back, hitting the ground hard and digging a furrow into it. I can feel everything around me. It’s as if every sense is fine tuned.

I can feel Kakarott below me pause in his struggle with Trunks and Goten. I can feel Trunks and Goten stop and jerk backwards. They are all thrown back. Not even Kakarott with his arms crossed in front of him is protected.

And in the middle is me…with her. I bury my face where I’m sure her neck is, trembling as I feel her. She is draining me of even the ki in this form, a form I had struggled to attain for so long.

And the truth of why I’d never changed into the form after having gotten it is quite clear. I’d only gotten it because she had left me.

I hear Kakarott cry out and lift my head. The sky is darkening.

My hold on Bulma tightens and I feel my throat close up. “No…. Don’t leave me….”

Kakarott’s fingers go to his forehead and he is concentrating, but it is too late. Both he and I know that.

Kakarott’s hand falls and he throws back his head, screaming to the sky as his body seems to melt. It starts at his feet, turning insubstantial, turning black and misty.

And the black mist in my hands changes as well. It solidifies and takes form. Hand clutch at me, grabbing onto spandex and pulling as her face buries into my chest.

She is crying.

My arms tighten slightly and then relax and my own face buries into her hair. I rub into it softly and feel her breath hitch. Then she looks up at me and her hands move, rising to cup my face.

She smiles at me and I feel my ki returned.

My eyes widen at her and I shake my head, but her finger presses against my lips. “You don’t expect me to just live while I watch you and my son die, do you?”

“Dad?” There is a long pause. “Mom?”

I can’t take my eyes from her. I don’t want to. But…I can’t deny her this. I knew…I knew it would come to this, even if I didn’t admit it to myself.

I gently touch onto the ground. “Trunks…come and hold your mother….” My arms slip from around her, letting her go, as I should have from the moment she said goodbye.

Trunks shifts and then practically jumps into his mother’s embrace. They hold each other for a moment and then Trunks visibly jolts, leaning back with surprise in his face. “Mom?”

But she is already fading away, the ki that kept her living now returned to us to keep us living. She turns her face to me and smiles again. “I’m sorry, Vegeta….”

I’m not sure what expression I have on my own face. “Shut up, woman.”

She laughs, and then she is gone.

We all stand there for a long and silent time, and then I hear a snort beside me. I turn to head to look down at the cat. I don’t really feel like dealing with him, but then his head butts into my hand and I feel myself petting him absently, scratching behind his ears. He purrs.

“He says I can tell you who he is now.”

I look up and stare at Piccolo for a moment before nodding. “Alright.”

“He’s Bardock. It’s how he knew, about everything.”

I snort and suddenly shove at the head beneath my hand. “Turns out Bardock is an asshole.”

Both Piccolo and I wince as the cat yowls and stalks off, sitting down and lifting a paw to studiously clean his face.

Turning to Piccolo, I stare at him before reaching out a hand and grasping his. I squeeze it lightly. “It’s over….”

“What did you do, dad?”

I do not look away from Piccolo as I answer. “I traded Bulma and Kakarott places, and then wished that Kakarott would cease to exist. He was no longer human, so it wasn’t a problem for the dragon.”

Then I look at my son and give him a small smile. “Your mother made the decisions after that. You’re cured….”

Trunks looks somber and then glances over at Goten. “Yeah….”

“Go get Gorika and tell her what has happened…. Meet us back at the house. And spread the word. It’s over.”

Trunks nods and both he and Goten lift into the air. He pauses and looks at me. “Are you…staying?”

I nod my head sharply and he smiles at me and then flies off, Goten not far behind him.

I turn to Piccolo only to feel his free hand moving through my hair. “Super Saiyan three.” He chuckles then. “You look ridiculous with that brow.”

I snort and move closer to him. “Give me green skin and antennae and I could pass as a Namek, eh?”

He makes an offended noise that is cut off as I grab him and pull him into me. I feel the tension drain out of me, but the pain…that will leave slower.

“It’s over….” His hands wrap around me and curl into my hair.

Yes, it is over. Wounds can mend now…even if scars do remain. I decide that the others can wait a few hours, and from the way Piccolo isn’t moving I’d say he feels the same.

‘Something of us all lives on, my Prince. Whether it be memory or just the ashes we leave floating in empty space…. In the end, we are all but ashes.’

A/N: Don’t worry. There’s an epilogue. ^_~