Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Price You Pay ❯ Chapter Forty-Eight ( Chapter 48 )

Insert standard disclaimer here.

 

The Price You Pay: Chapter Forty-Eight

 

Zarbon heard the commotion down the hall before anyone knocked on the door. He wasn't sure what was going on, but it was something important enough that it required his presence.

 

“Come,” he said with authority after the first knock.

 

The Saiya-jin guard entered the room, the excitement barely concealed on his face.

 

“Well?” asked Zarbon, not bothering to disguise his irritation.

 

“It's the King, sir. He's returned.”

 

Zarbon's heart leapt into his throat. Vegeta had returned?

 

~~~~~~~<(((((|||)))))>~~~~~~~

 

The King of the Saiya-jins stared at his mate's open eyes through the clear glass of the regen tank. Was this some sort of trick? Had her eyes merely been open the whole time and he never noticed?

 

Vegeta.

 

She said again, this time with more conviction. He couldn't tell if her lips were moving. The breathing mask still covered the lower half of her face.

 

Vegeta let all of his remaining mental barriers slip, allowing the static of everyone's thoughts to seep into his mind. He could sense everyone in the palace, including the guards who'd already discovered his return. Inhaling deeply, he filtered them out, one by one, searching for the one link that was uniquely Bulma's. And there it was, weak and frayed, but a few threads of their link still existed. She pressed her hand against the glass feebly.

 

Bulma!

 

Vegeta pressed his own hand against the glass and felt out with his ki. He could sense her more easily now, something had changed.

 

He depressed the regen tank's control console on button. Flashing across the screen were her vitals, all very strong and steady. After assuring himself that she was in full health, Vegeta pulled the release trigger, and the viscous fluid began draining. He didn't know how it happened, and he didn't know who'd put her in the tank, but somehow his mate was alive.

 

The solution level wasn't lowering quickly enough. Surely there was a more efficient way to drain the damn thing.

 

Vegeta opened the hatch and the fluid from the tank splashed against the floor.

 

Much better.

 

“C-c-cold...” she made out through chattering teeth. Though the back light had turned off, Bulma's skin still shone an unhealthy shade of blue.

 

Shit, of course. She's freezing.

 

Vegeta thought and hastily made his way to the nearest cabinet, rummaging for a blanket. The temperature difference between the tank and the medical room had to be at least 20 degrees. Satisfied that he'd found the warmest one, he returned to the tank, wrapped Bulma in the blanket, and lifted her into his arms. The nearest gurney was only a few feet away. He laid her down, using his ki to expedite the heating process.

 

She continued to shiver, her shakes nearly uncontrollable. Whatever was affecting her, it was more than the climate. Vegeta raised the temperature a little higher, laying down beside her. Their link had been so close to being severed, dangerously close. It had nearly driven him to madness. Who knew what it was doing to her.

 

Bulma wrapped her arms around Vegeta, her cold body in stark contrast with Vegeta's warmth. He resisted the urge to hiss at the sudden change in temperature, not wanting her to misinterpret his behavior. He carefully placed his arms around the fragile woman, pressing her against him with a desperation he couldn't explain.

 

Why? Why had it taken him all these months to figure this out?

 

Vegeta stilled himself. No matter what happened, regardless of recent revelations and coming unbearably close to losing her, he was still resisting an undeniable truth: how lost he was without her.

 

Vegeta felt Bulma's body shake with more intensity. She was sobbing silently. He held her tighter, burying his face in the smell of her coconut-scented hair. She pushed away from him so she could see his face.

 

“Vegeta, you're...” she started and stared at him in amazement, tears streaming down her porcelain skin.

 

“Silence, woman, you're going to make yourself sick,” he said. His voice was remarkably hoarse.

 

A lock of Bulma's hair fell across her face as she shifted deeper into the blankets. Vegeta grunted in distaste and picked up the damp piece of hair, waving it before Bulma's face as if it offended him. He really hated having to groom her constantly.

 

“Onna, we have got to find a way to stop this from happening,” he said and shook the aqua strands for emphasis.

 

Bulma laughed.

 

~~~~~~~<(((((|||)))))>~~~~~~~

 

Zarbon watched the Saiya-jin King and his mate through the medical ward window. At least twenty or more guards were crowded around, thrilled by the return of their obviously triumphant King.

 

Had only two days gone by?

 

Freeza had been dead scarcely 48 hours and already the atmosphere on Vegeta-sei was changing, normalizing. He glanced around the hall and at the smiling faces of the Saiya-jin warriors. Maybe everything wasn't lost after all.

 

~~~~~~~<(((((|||)))))>~~~~~~~

 

Vegeta closed the door to his quarters softly behind him. Bulma was safe, under the constant watch of the medical staff. They were performing all sorts of tests, trying to understand what had happened. No one could believe she'd survived.

 

The Saiya-jin no Ou took a breath, it was something he did more frequently now; consciously calming himself. He stepped further into the room, searching for the ki he knew he'd find there.

 

Trunks laid back down on the bed, his breathing slow and steady. He looked so much like his mother, but the angular eyes and rigid brow gave his Saiya-jin heritage away. Then there was his tail, softly swaying back and forth across the bed.

 

The mattress depressed as Vegeta sat beside his son.

 

He would train him to be the best fighter the universe had ever seen. Half-breed or not, Trunks would be the mightiest of all Saiya-jin progeny now that his father had the means of Ascension. But it was still too early for that. Bulma would no doubt strangle him if the boy were injured at such a delicate age.

 

Vegeta smiled.

 

It didn't matter. There would be plenty of time.

 

~~~~~~~<(((((|||)))))>~~~~~~~

 

“Vegeta,” came Zarbon's voice from around a corner.

 

Vegeta turned and saw the reptile leaning against a nearby wall, his body concealed from the rest of the guards by a few stone pillars. Just having left his personal quarters and the sleeping form of Trunks, the King was so consumed in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed Zarbon's ki.

 

“Zarbon,” replied Vegeta, barely inclining his head. He didn't seem upset at his oversight.

 

Zarbon looked at the Saiya-jin no Ou appraisingly, noticing that he'd showered and changed. He could vividly remember the sight of the young Saiya-jin covered in caked mud and moon dust, holding onto Bulma as if his world depended on her. It was a moment that would be forever imprinted on Zarbon's mind. Now, in contrast, the King looked immaculate. He was properly groomed and donned a fresh black battle suit. It was nothing like the light armor he usually wore with the crest of the House of Vegeta-sei embroidered across his chest. If he weren't radiating a base ki level over a half a million, he would have looked just like any other Saiya-jin.

 

Vegeta returned Zarbon's stare and continued down the hall, opening the door to the Senate council room. Zarbon followed.

 

Once the door was closed, Vegeta sat down at the head of the table. The last time the seat had been occupied, it was by his father. The Senate seemed like little more than a bad joke now. He doubted Vegeta was going to let any governing body on Vegeta-sei influence his decisions after the failures of the former King.

 

“I saw the recording.” Zarbon wasted little time.

 

“I assumed you had,” responded the Saiya-jin no Ou cooly, folding his arms across his chest. The gesture looked surprisingly regal as the starlight from the window behind him emphasized and outlined his form. Vegeta stared at him, waiting for the onslaught of questions he knew he was about to endure.

 

Zarbon took a seat, clasping his hands in front of him. He pondered his reflection in the polished glass of the table's surface, letting the silence linger.

 

“How did you do it?” he finally asked, abruptly changing the subject.

 

Vegeta smirked and pressed back against his seat. This wasn't the question he'd been expecting.

 

“What? You doubted me?” asked Vegeta, turning his head away. It was obvious what Zarbon was getting at.

 

“Never,” responded Zarbon with sincerity. Vegeta raised his lowered eyes and looked at Zarbon. Getting the information out of the stubborn Saiya-jin not going to be easy.

 

“Ok,” said Zarbon finally, “I'll start by telling you what I know.” Vegeta inclined his head again.

 

“You asked me to do research about the Legendary, and at first all I found were the same stories from folktales. But then I went to the Southern Continent and found several copies of ancient texts buried in the disaster you people call a library.” Vegeta glared at Zarbon, offended by the insult to his race. “The translation was difficult, but finally I was able read the prophecy as it was first written,” Zarbon added with less judgment.

 

“The Legendary,” Zarbon began, “or the idea of Ascension was originally a religious ideal spoken of by the Ancient Ones. To these men, Ascending was more like taking a closer step to a deity than a physical change. For years, the transformation was highly ritualized and any physical advantages were secondary in value to the of self-enlightenment of the Chosen One.

 

“They created a series of chants designed to foretell the coming of the Legendary and spent hours meditating, purifying themselves so they could become the perfect vessels of an awesome power.

 

“But not just any warrior could Ascend. Certain criteria had to be met by all who hoped to become the Legendary, and each age of Ascension had its own specifications. The Ancient Ones could predict how and why the Chosen One would Ascend quite accurately. They'd done it on multiple occasions. The last Super Saiya-jin was not the first, Vegeta. Nor was he expected to be the last.

 

“Unfortunately, by the time of the last Ascension, the Ancients had all but lost their influence. Technology was the new god, and they were thrown out of power, their texts thrown into storage. Though the Saiya-jins had the means to record these valuable pieces of their history in digital format, it was seldom done. Most of the texts were lost, perhaps becoming the personal property of a former noble. Frankly, it's remarkable the transcripts were never destroyed during the Great War that bred the last Legendary. I had a hell of a time trying to track them down myself.

 

“Anyway, the prophecy that we know of today was spread entirely by word of mouth, edited and changed after years of reinterpretation. Given the cultural changes Vegeta-sei was going through, only a small number of Saiya-jins even took stock in what seemed like a superstitious fairy tale. It wasn't until the previous Legendary finally Ascended that people once again started to believe in the nearly-forgotten prophecies.

 

“But at that point, what did they have left? Pieces of a chant the Ancient Ones had used to harness their power and a few tall tales. The texts were gone, their location unknown. All the remaining Saiya-jins could do was look to their elders to recite the stories they'd heard hundreds of times as children and never believed.

 

“Only a few remaining facts were left about the circumstances surrounding the next Ascension: the Legendary would rise during a time of great need and crisis. Secondly, he would lead his race to victory. Presumably, he would arise from a line of warriors from the Southern Continent.”

 

Bardock was a warrior from the Southern Continent, wasn't he?

 

Vegeta thought as he absorbed the new information.

 

“As you know, the Royal House of Vegeta-sei is the oldest enduring line of warriors from the Southern Continent. It was natural for the Saiya-jins to assume someone of your line would be the next to Ascend. And when Freeza came into the picture, it seemed that if ever the Saiya-jins needed a savior, it was now. The Legendary would Ascend.” Zarbon paused.

 

“But all of those parts of this particular prophecy were obvious, uncomplicated. There was one minor detail that had them all baffled, myself included. That was the role of a tiny planet called Earth.”

 

Vegeta's eyes closed. Before arriving in this dimension, he hadn't known that last part. Earth. God, how it made him sick. He thought about Goku. The moron was as human as he was stupid, and the fool had a father from the Southern Continent. No wonder he'd Ascended.

 

“From what I've gathered, most Saiya-jins ignored that last detail, thinking it the result of misinterpretation. Earth? Who the hell even knew where that was? But Freeza never took chances. He drove your father mad, created anarchy within your empire, and destroyed the planet. I don't think anyone thought twice about it. At least, not until it was gone.

 

“I even dismissed the last part of the prophecy, denying Bulma's appearance as merely a coincidence or unfortunate complication. Her arrival had everyone wondering if they'd been wrong. And then when you told me about how she'd recited the Ancient chant to you, I started to wonder. As you'd already surmised, it could not be a coincidence that she'd come here. After my research, that was blatantly obvious. Somehow, she had a part in the fulfillment of the prophecy, even if that meant that it was her son, a hybrid, who was destined to be the Chosen One.

 

“But once I saw the message you left when I made it back from Freeza's ship, however, I knew I'd been wrong. Trunks and Bulma were not the only Earthlings Freeza had to worry about on Vegeta-sei.” He gave Vegeta a knowing look.

 

“In the very least, I knew you'd gone to sacrifice yourself. To your knowledge, it was the only way you could destroy Freeza without Ascending. But you see, through every text, every different interpretation, the theme was not power or personal gain, but sacrifice. In order to Ascend, Vegeta, you would have to sacrifice yourself. You could only Ascend by committing the ultimate act of self sacrifice. Though it didn't seem like it at the time, you unknowingly chose the outcome. You chose your destiny.”

 

Vegeta pushed out of the chair and stood at the window, his tail lashing behind him. It was his favorite thing to do when he was upset, whether from this dimension or another. He didn't want Zarbon to see his face when he felt uncertain.

 

“He was going to follow them,” said Vegeta after clearing his throat. “He was going to follow them to Earth and destroy it in that dimension too.”

 

Zarbon stood, walking over to the closed off form of the Saiya-jin King. He tentatively placed his hand on Vegeta's shoulder. It was more comfort than he'd ever attempted in the past and more than Vegeta had ever allowed.

 

Vegeta let his mental barriers slide just the slightest.

 

He was going to destroy my family—my home.

 

Thought Vegeta. He sounded ridiculous, even within his own head. He was weak, sentimental, changed forever. He was human.