Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Ties of Renewal ❯ Chapter 2

Standard Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ … I don't own DBZ … I don't know DBZ … There I've said it enough, now leave me alone

Notables: this is my first real submitted attempt, and I've actually worked fairly hard on this, so really, please don't leave me in the dark as to what you think. Mademoiselle22@hotmail.com is my address, feel free to use it. Make note that the themes used in this piece of fiction are for the most part mature, and it is suggested that if you are under 18, that you turn back now and spare your self the sex and the profanity that will arise. I've decided to post this now, so enjoy, and please please review....

TIES OR RENEWAL


By: Mademoiselle

He had remembered the mid night break in. Clearing to the solitude of her room, hoping to find her eternally struck in its haze, hoping this last time she would take him back again. Fully expecting to see her so close to her due date, swollen with his child or cuddled up to his baby. Either way, expecting to see her with an entire entourage of soft stuffed animals and items comfort, cards and flowers, foolish women things. Instead he had found her room bare of all worldly comforts, alone on the bed, the big wide bed that they had shared for so long, looking so small and white, shivering and sobbing in the sallow light of her chambers. Floral comforters were callously strewn across the floor, her blue eyes were wide open and glistening with un-shed tears when her gaze broke upon him.

"Vegeta…" she had heard herself whimper, speaking the name that she had not mentioned of for so long, turning to him, catching onto his beautiful gleaming eyes then beckoning him to her bed. He had thought it uncanny that one so much in need of prowess physical strength could even hope to recognize him now For all of his connection to this earth, even Kakarrot, could not make due from picking him apart from any other with such a tiny emission of presence.

He sifted to her side of the bed, watching as her arms wrapped around him, a brief flicker of surprised passing his features as she removed what little shred of the clothing left that had separated them. He moved aside her, hearing the silence run between them, watching, waiting for her to continue on, then hearing her gasp almost painfully as a warm hand passed over her tummy in search of the other ki.

" The baby," her head lowered to the mattress, two hands moving upward as the tears began to water her lovely face. Both knowing full well that this night was to arrive and with it the explanations and apologies that must, both having planned for this day of reckoning and whatever pain came with it "…he didn't live for long at all," she began sky-hued eyes finding his dark ones, locking onto them, feeling the need to see this reaction.

"My parents didn't want him either," she stopped as he drew in a stitch of air, somehow passing the vindictive glower she'd thought would surface watching him reel over from the loss of their son and of the pain caused by him at her mention. It was different, so different, than she had ever imagined it to be, sharing the pain with someone, instead of being the only one feeling for the loss this baby. She passed a warm hand over his face, smoothing over the harsh, clean lines of his features, both knowing full well that it was the only comfort he would dare take.

"…but I was so careful. I was even in the hospital for such a long time, but it didn't do any good. My baby knew I would be such a bad mother," her voice rose to an precarious high when had she finally spoken again, "so … he left me" she moved on his chest, resting her head upon it, and was startled when she felt his heart near to a stop.

"What?" she questioned, hearing her soft own voice resonate through the tears, one small hand stroking the nether regions of the crown of his hair, now moving to caress his lower back and chest.

He reached up to where she lay, moving underneath her eyes, gently stroked her soft pale lids, wandering to the unnatural gray paste beneath them. Once before he had seen her like this. In too deep in his mind's eye, alone, too thin, and crying. Lying on the backside of a hospital bed. He had seen her suffer from the outskirts of space, away from all who could have cared for her, all who would have, the shame too much to ask for. The unequivocal emptiness of defeat still had rung a silent chord through him, then and now, painfully instilling in years of undulated retreat. Freiza, the manical tyrant lay dead at his hand. After a lifetime of yearning for this moment, for that one instant when he would reach completion, when he would deliver his people from the madness of the monster. Years later, so many, many painful years later, without so much of a kingdom or planet, when his title of royalty meant little more to others than a passing time sake, he had begotten a victory that meant nothing, nothing at all. Not even the saving grace of this one almost unreachable dream fulfilled. He had not made it across the towering heights that he only been passed but once before, still adhering to the loss of the root of all wonder for his people, the timeless resolute of the Super Saiyan. The prize had managed to elude him once more, and more shamefully it could not have fallen into the hands of a more unwilling peasant, so unworthy of the honour, one whom hadn't spent a passing moment wishing for its bounty.

He had been perched atop the length of a small moon, exhausting its vast quantities of power from the inside out, depleting its energy with a fiery devotion, the giant rock stood not unlike the Saiyan No Ouiji, destroying itself from within. Every last piece of resolve and expectation had diminished to this one point, this one, last, final instant of atonement. Going past the frustration, the hurt, the betrayal, seeing her again, writhing helplessly in pain, screaming, crying. All done by his own hand, all by his touch, his child. Feeling through her, every last strain and shout of her lower muscles tightly contracting around her, the unshed tears welling up in her eyes. Both consuming every last wasp of strength, transpiring all thought and emotion in search of their own lasts accord. She, trying to dispel the child out of her body, pushing by any means possible, screaming, cursing and crying she had sent them, all three of them. He had pushing himself past all levels of consciousness, trying, forcing all energy to reach the singular conduit, to the nearly intangible level of madness, the ascension of the final esteemed height. Beyond, care, concern, beyond any, and all control, they had sought, reaching unimaginable, almost untouchable levels of power. Past all measures of boundaries and limits, she had sent the child out wailing and crying into the world, hope, and into her arms, safe for only this moment. He had stood there before, bounding up, moving beyond all unstoppable measures of force and power, every last image of this life burning, broiling to this one instant of fulfillment, in this one last sweep, the golden hue had erupted in sight.


He awoke to the gentle rhythm of the movement of her hands roving upon his face and to her blue eyes, slowly searching his, gently, understanding in the way that she had always had. She held no malice over their loss, simply deep, deep sadness … so forgiving, she was, even when all of the blame for the damage lay at his feet. He hadn't been actually sleeping, it had simply just been surreal for but a minute. "I need you to stay for the night" she broke through his thoughts, her voice soft and quiet, almost questioning her own words.

"I can't do this anymore…this, is going to be the last night" she sounded away from him, slowly dying down to a whisper upon the realization she had moved far from him.

"Woman …" he answered for the first time in the night, feeling the need to express himself now becoming more and more imminent and all ease to do so passing with every beat of the second, as if now, he could save whatever remnants this relationship held. To tell her all that he felt for her, what she was, maybe, maybe she just might ---, the soft ringlets of curls shook at she moved from side to side, silencing all ideas and aspiration, all hope. This was the way it was meant to be, the way she wanted it.

"Its just too painful without the baby. Every time you leave, it isn't easy to take you on again in my life, wherever and wherever, at your convenience, destroying my life with every turn, at your choice, not mine.' he watched as she sobbed against him, roseate knuckles becoming so pale when she sliced them together. He allowed her to speak on, not wanting to hurt her already more than she was, understanding that maybe, just maybe, there were no words that could make it better between them.

"I fought so hard to bring him into the world. You know that they wanted me to hurt him, kill him…" she whispered, trying to feign the hard-won battle between tears. She collapsed against him.

"You were gone and I had no reason why you would ever come back home to me. They couldn't have me marry a man when I had given birth to another's child. They thought it better for me, that way, so I could have a family, my last chance" she spoke startling him with her words, that was all she desired, everything, in that expansive list of what she had given freely and willingly, had all been just to have a family with him, with him, and he had pushed her away for his own selfish desires. No, he had amended a silence force, he had forced her to take it all back.

"Then my parents left me, they abandoned me and thought I would come back, crying, and get him terminated for them, they wanted me to take my baby's life, for their pride, for their god forsaken reputation," she pointed out leaning over him, speaking in a horrifically toned voice, so calm and measured, and yet the tears were streaking from her face, pausing, allowing him to remember of what she had once spoken of. On occasion having joked to him losing her to an arranged marriage if he weren't careful, he had never, until now, taken that threat seriously.

"I couldn't…the baby was mine-" she was shivering again, studying him intently, such a victim of greed she was, betrayed by both sides of trust, parents and lover.

She had failed to use the word, that fateful phrase of possession, marking her eternally as his bride, his queen, his consort to the undead empire that lay beneath his fingers, of this son, theirs. "Ours …" he whispered into the darkness, catching onto the brilliant azure of her eyes watching her shake her head, untrusting of herself to do so.

"It was our son," he found himself saying, finding, pausing as he stroked the silken tips of her hair and to her neck, trying to bring her some comfort.

She looked up at him again, more pain and confusion ruminating between to two with every step and stance. "Its convenient, isn't it?" she began, pushing away from his comforting embrace, feeling the hurt well up inside when she spoke, this time so much louder than the first. "When we lost our son, he was ours then wasn't he? My baby and your heir. Any other time, any other time, when I was alone, when I was alone in a cold hospital bed screaming, abandoned by my parents and the father of my child, trying to bring this child into the world, he was mine. My responsibility. I'm the one who has to cope, he was my baby and only mine, give me that much, will you! " she cried out to him, and she had suddenly stopped, the anger and pain heat to a release in her tone.

"For once did you think of the pain and hurt you'd be causing me? Of asking me to raise this child alone, of leaving me, without anyone, without anyone to dependent on, then we fall sick, under the shock and the pain. Did you? Did you give a damn of what I could handle?" she waited hearing herself speak, catching his eyes, feeling him edge her onwards. "Instead you depend on the fact that my parents might help out, and when that failed I had nothing else to rely on…"

"By the end of it all, I wanted to be a mom so badly, so badly, after all of that suffering, now it doesn't matter any more, doesn't it? But its so much worse --- so much worse I don't know if you're even feeling this," she gasped at her uncharitable realization, at a loss of the full thrust of her tirade and now dying to a whisper.

"It's not fair, we both know they I can't handle you like this… " she whispered, staring straight into his coal eyes, as he wondered where she drew the strength to do so "…I don't have the want or the will, there's just too much pain between us, it isn't going to work out. We both need time to heal…"

He sighed at her last words, the last words he heard of her for the night. Settling against her, feeling her arms move across the sore and painful muscles of his shoulders and back, the emotions flooding though every part of him. He would stay for the night, he had no intent to cause her more pain. They hadn't made love then. They had just laid together, the two making out like children on a moonlit beach, but never, surpassing her threshold of exertion, in every and, any sense of the word, he took great pains not to hurt her. Sleep did not claim either. How could it? She tossed and turned in his arms, restless in his despair, looking up at him in so much shock paining her lovely face, he had understood at that moment, looking into her eyes, noticing how she had been sleeping for but a few minutes, she hadn't even had that before. He had bonded to her, in the greatest, most right form of mind, bound together by the most painful of moments, memories, instants of time, their time together. The forms of passage had been wrought properly, caught in the most pain-filled roots, one triumphing and the other failing in their plight, she couldn't see that, human women for all of her intelligence, had been able to. If time could be reverted back to place, the knowledge dawned upon him like a shadow breaking through the darkness, if he had but the chance, he would have, given the charge, forsaken his rights of blood and power for his women and child.

Please tell me what you think at Mademosielle22@hotmail.com