Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Two Sides to a Story ❯ Full Circle ( Chapter 14 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Two Sides To A Story
Chapter Fourteen


When Yamcha sensed the initial spike in Vegeta's ki, he ceased
his travels and immediately called Krillin for some news. None of it
was good. The small monk had been speeding towards Capsule Corporation
to retrieve Gohan and was unable to call ahead to Bulma to warn them of
what had happened at the Look-Out. Yamcha tried calling her number
himself and discovered that it was turned off for reasons unknown. He
briefly debated turning back and decided against it. If Vegeta was back
to his old murder-first/think-last self then his presence wouldn't help
the outcome of the battle. In fact, more likely than not, he would only
be in the way.

Spurred on by more than simple curiosity now, Yamcha wasted no
time in locating the Veteran's Hospital. Jacques City was in the same
time zone as the Western Capital and he knew he had little hope of
finding the physician at this late hour. At least he had a name to
start with.

Professor Gerald Willis.

The front doors of the hospital were closed after ten o'clock so
he went into Emergency. It was deserted and he wasted no time walking
up to the admissions desk. "Can you help me? I'm looking for Doctor
Gerald Willis."

The nurse behind the glass partition didn't bother looking up
from where she was playing solitaire on her computer. "Doctor Willis is
a very busy man. Are you a patient of his?"

"Yes," Yamcha lied and made a show of gripping his chest and
releasing a less than convincing cough. "I need to see him. It's very
important."

"We have another doctor on duty-"

"Please!" He started coughing and made a strangled sound deep in
his throat. "I-I think I'm dying!"

Casting him one cool glance that told him that she didn't believe
the act for one second, the woman nevertheless reached for the phone.
Hitting the speed dial, she waited for perhaps ten seconds and then
said, "Hello, Doctor Willis? This is Debbie from Admissions. There is a
patient here urgently requesting to see you." She went silent for a
moment and then cupped the receiver as she turned to him, "Your name
sir?"

Yamcha decided to play the only card he had. "Vegeta."

The nurse repeated it into the phone and went silent. For some
reason her eyes went very wide and she hung up without a word. "He'll
be here in less than fifteen minutes," she said, the surprise evident
in her voice. Stepping around the counter, she led the shocked fighter
into the emergency ward and directed him to an empty bed. "Doctor
Willis wants you to rest here. Lay down if you'd like, he won't be
long."

"Thank you," Yamcha said, watching as she pulled the curtain
around the bed to give him some privacy. As soon as he was left alone,
he dropped the façade of the ailing patient and started fidgeting. In
the back of his mind, he could feel the heightened ki's of Piccolo and
Tien as they reacted to Vegeta's resurrection. Eclipsing all of them,
was the sense of the Saiyan's own power; like the heavy air felt as a
precursor to a tornado. He mentally followed their progress and lost
track of time until someone swept the curtain aside, abruptly rousing
him from his vigil.

"Who the hell are you?" Willis thundered. "You're not V- You're
not Garth Tucker!"

"No," Yamcha told him honestly, "And I'm not Vegeta, either."

Two security guards were flanking the harried-looking doctor and
looking at him for guidance. "Do you want us to escort him out, sir?"

The anger was plain on the tall man's face. Just as he started
turning away, Yamcha blurted out, "You knew what he was, didn't you?
Vegeta? Do you really want me to say it out loud right here?"

His face dark with indignant rage, Willis turned back and cast
the young fighter a calculating glance. Finally, he nodded to the
guards; "I want to speak to him in private." Before they could react,
he stepped close to the bed and swept the curtain closed.

"I'll give you one minute before I have you thrown out," he said
to Yamcha.

"I'm with the Earth's Special Forces. Vegeta is a-" Yamcha
practically strangled on the word, "...friend. He disappeared a few
months ago and we couldn't understand what happened until he showed up
again. We found out he was poisoned."

The expression on the physician's face never changed. He merely
nodded impatiently for the fighter to continue.

"Somehow, this all ties into something top secret that involved
Corporal Tucker... and you. Possibly even an alien named Frieza-" That
got a startled grunt out of the man. Yamcha saw the immediate
recognition that Willis betrayed and pounced on it, "It's true! You
were an ally of that monster?"

"It wasn't like that," Willis said in a rushed voice. "He merely
helped us to control-"

"He's still alive!?!" Yamcha shouted in horror.

Shushing him quiet, the perturbed scientist moved in and began
speaking in urgent whispers, filling in all of the gaps that Yamcha
needed to know; Installation 15, the clone of Frieza, Vegeta's
'sedation', his ultimate escape. Willis didn't go into specifics, he
really didn't need to, and the younger man had enough of an imagination
to cover the deliberate holes in the story. Like some bad sci-fi movie,
Vegeta had been captured, taken to a secret base, and experimented on.
"I'm amazed he let you live," Yamcha said bitterly when the terrible
tale was complete.

"When he left this hospital, he was barely able to button his
coat," Willis admitted, looking away. His indignation over Yamcha's
nosiness had finally given way to obvious remorse, even shame, and it
wasn't being faked for the fighters' benefit. "MRI scans revealed that
the brain damage from Frieza's poison was progressive. On the day
Vegeta left the hospital, I told him that he didn't have much time
left. He was dying. Of course, he didn't believe me." He fixed Yamcha
with a saddened expression. "He's dead, isn't he? That's why you're
here."

Just as Yamcha was about to explain recent events, one of the
guards pulled the edge of the curtain to one side and poked his head
in. "Professor? I'm sorry for disturbing you but I think you should see
this."

Reluctantly, Willis stepped out and followed the guard over to
where the hospital staff was gathered around a television. Yamcha was
about to join them when he felt the surge of malicious ki swamp his
consciousness. He had to sit down on the bed as the room spun
alarmingly around him. The sterile scents of the hospital were replaced
by smoke and ash to his numbed senses and in his mind he could hear the
wails of agony of slaughtered civilians.

"Oh no," he said in an unsteady voice. "Vegeta...NO!"

>>>>>

Krillin glanced nervously at the figure on his left but he didn't
say anything. It was taxing precious reserves just keeping up with the
youth's frantic speed and the wind flow would only have reduced his
words to an intelligible garble. Honestly, he had no idea what he could
possibly say to ease what the boy was feeling right now.

Fixated on his course, Gohan was staring straight ahead and
practically ignoring his friend. His youthful face was taut with dread
and regret. In all of the battles he'd fought in recent years, this was
the one he was dreading the most. It wasn't Vegeta's fault that his
mind was damaged and he had reverted back to his murderous course. He
had been tortured, shot and poisoned and had sacrificed what little was
left of his life to help Bulma. It wasn't fair that he hadn't been
allowed the just ending of dying a hero's death like Gokou. He had been
resurrected and now everyone was expecting Gohan to put things back to
right.

I'll-I'll have to kill him, Gohan was thinking over and over. If
Vegeta doesn't snap out of this, that's what I'll have to do. Oh,
father- I don't think that I can!

He had allowed the terse alien into a portion of his heart where
only a chosen few were permitted to reside. Piccolo and Krillin were
there, as were Bulma and the rest of the Z Fighters. It was inevitable
that Vegeta would have secured a seat in that special spot and his odd
hospitality, barely a day ago, had cinched the placement. More
importantly, the Saiyan represented the sole tie to his alien heritage
that the boy was beginning to thrive on. Gohan didn't want to lose
Vegeta now. And he certainly didn't want to be the person responsible
for erasing the very last surviving full-blooded Saiyan from the entire
universe.

Not fair, he thought as his eyes blurred with bitter tears. It's
just not fair! I don't want this burden. I just want everything back
the way it's supposed to be!

A hand squeezed his upper arm and he pulled out of his morose
thoughts to see Krillin close beside him. "Gohan, everything's going to
be okay!" the former monk shouted over the wind.

"I hope you're right!" the boy shouted back, but there was a
mutual hopelessness in both of their eyes that words couldn't soothe.

The pair settled back into tense silence again but it didn't last
long. There was a rheumy orange glow on the horizon that was growing in
intensity as they approached. Both fighter's unanimously slowed their
course and dropped down lower as the first of ruined sights came into
view. Houses on the outskirts of the conflagration were flaming pyres
and the land and roads were twisted out of shape, as if on the
receiving end of an earthquake.

"This was no natural disaster," Krillin managed to say as they
flew toward the heart of the burning city.

"I know who caused it," Gohan whispered, looking around in
stunned horror. Survivors had gathered in a few scattered groups but
there seemed too few of them for what had been such a large city.

They passed over a highway and saw the remains of crushed cars
lying amid collapsed asphalt. Bodies were hanging out of some of the
windows and nobody was moving... "Vegeta," he moaned, squeezing his
eyes shut in a vain effort to block out the needless devastation. He
was shaking his head in denial but when he looked down again, things
were only getting worse. They had entered the business district and
huge skyscrapers had been toppled over as if they were no more than a
child's toy blocks. Once marvels of construction, the buildings were
reduced to smoldering scrap and the air was thick with blinding oily
smoke that carried a faint charnel smell of burning flesh. Gohan lost
sight of Krillin in the grimy smoke but could hear the smaller fighter
being noisily sick not far away.

When they rejoined, Krillin was deathly pale and deliberately
avoiding eye content in his embarrassment. The younger fighter didn't
comment on the act, he was nauseous himself by what he was seeing all
around him. Had he actually thought that he was prepared for this
battle? This was an evil that eclipsed Cell and the Androids together;
they had only been following a madman's programming. Vegeta was
cruising along on instinct and blind hatred; things drilled into him by
a ruthless alien tyrant who had destroyed star systems for pleasure. It
was becoming brutally clear that Frieza's influence was dictating
Vegeta's actions as if the villain were still alive. If not for the
intermittent pulse of the Saiyan's ki, Gohan would have thought the
crazed Icejin to be the alien responsible for this senseless carnage.

In the center of the devastated city was an expansive crater,
easily half a kilometer wide. The grey, scorched earth was smoking and
virtually scrubbed clean of any landmarks except for some stubborn I-
beams that had been twisted into odd, unrecognizable shapes. It was
here that Gohan landed and Krillin followed suit. Encircling them on
all sides, the fires of the ruined city blazed on.

"Why did we stop here?" Krillin asked nervously, his eyes darting
around in all directions. What unnerved him most was the silence. There
was no sound of any emergency vehicle sirens, no screams of survivors
or dying citizens. There wasn't even a snatch of wind to distract his
dazed mind. He and Gohan might as well have been standing in a
graveyard. It wasn't a comparison that brought him any comfort and he
forced it quickly from his mind.

Gohan was motioning him to be quiet. "Don't you sense that?"

"Sense what?"

Giving his head an irritated shake, he wandered around in an
aimless pattern before kneeling down and staring at the singed dirt.
"It's coming from right here."

Krillin joined him, hunkering down and trying to focus his mind.
It was impossible to do; he just couldn't pull his stunned thoughts
together. "What is i-"

A green fist punched its way through the impacted earth, right
between his legs and he fell backwards, scrambling away from the source
in blind terror. It took a few seconds before he recognized that
flailing arm and jumped up to help Gohan pull Piccolo free. And the
Namek wasn't alone. Tien clambered out after him, breathing raggedly
and behind him came Android 18.

"You're alive!" Gohan cried happily. It seemed that it had been
years since he had last felt a smile on his face. He almost hugged his
mentor but managed to contain his relief just in the nick of time. They
weren't out of the woods yet. Not anywhere close. "When I felt your ki
fade, I thought- I feared that you had-had-"

"18 pulled us down a manhole shaft to safety just before Vegeta
razed the city. Tien and I submerged our ki so that he couldn't sense
us," said the huge alien as he dusted himself off and grumbled in
displeasure. His clothes were tattered rags but aside from a few
scrapes and bruises he looked in surprisingly good shape. Tien was in
similar condition but 18 looked like she had seen some hand-to-hand
combat. Her pale face was scuffed and her usually impeccable hair and
clothes were filthy. She wasn't happy about it, either.

Deliberately ignoring them, she pulled out a compact and tried to
fix her make-up. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Krillin slowly
coming up beside her and snapped, "Don't look at me, I'm a mess."

"That's not possible," the smaller fighter said honestly. "I had
no idea that you'd joined in the fight."

"I was curious, that's all," she dismissed. "Besides, fighting
with Vegeta is always a laugh riot." Adding an impartial shrug, she
went back to wiping some grime off of her cheeks. What she really
wanted was a very long, very hot shower to erase the memory of the
Saiyan's lustful groping.

Sensing that she wasn't in any mood to talk, Krillin nodded to
himself and started to walk away. "Well, for what it's worth, I'm glad
you're okay-"

"Krillin."

He turned around and saw her staring at him. There was a rare
smile on her face when she admitted, "I'm glad that you're okay, too."

Standing a short distance away, the other fighters had grouped
together to discuss strategy. "Gohan," Piccolo said in a rough voice.
"It's bad. Vegeta ascended to a Super Saiyan during our fight."

"So? He was that before!" Gohan piped up.

Casting him a baleful glare, the Namek continued on as if he
hadn't been disturbed. "As far as he knows, this is the first time he's
made the transformation. He's intoxicated on the power. To make things
even worse, he's now at the same level that he had battling Cell. That,
combined with his damaged memory..."

He didn't finish. He didn't have to. Gohan knew what he was
trying to say; Vegeta was at the pinnacle of power and had the mindset
of a crazed killer. Any edge that Gohan might have had over the Saiyan
was now reduced to an even slate. The boy wasn't even sure if he would
be capable of achieving the higher level of the Saiyan transformation
he had flaunted over Cell. Exhaustion, fear and puberty aside, Gohan
still did not hate Vegeta despite the evidence of carnage strewn around
him. Deep down, he still knew that none of this was the alien's fault.

Tien saw the indecision in the boy's face and spoke up, "Gohan,
you're going to have to-"

"I know what I have to do!" Gohan said sharply, fixing him with a
glare that transformed him into a miniature copy of his father. "I have
to-to stop him-"

There was a cold chuckle nearby that made all of them turn in
different directions to try and isolate the source. They were the only
people standing in the crater and at a loss, until Tien looked up.
"There!" he cried, pointing to the twisted metal beams that were
nearby.

One of the lumps of metal appeared to move until it became a
figure standing over them. That silhouette against the flames was
immediately recognizable, as were the twin dots of emerald rage where
his eyes were and the gleaming of his teeth. "Welcome to my show,"
Vegeta greeted, adding a husky laugh of delight.

>>>>>

"Faster, faster- Oh, why didn't I overhaul this piece of crap
when I had the chance?" Bulma fretted as she held the yoke of the
hoverjet in sweaty hands. She was pushing the engines to their maximum
and the entire craft was shaking right down to the rivets. To make
matters even worse, she didn't know if she was close to the battle or
if it was still a continent away.

Securely strapped into the passenger seat, Trunks was staring at
the front window with single-minded intensity. His eyes were closed to
bare slits and his pudgy cheeks were scarlet as he flailed his tiny
fists in frustration as if to tell his mother; You have to make this
bucket of bolts go even faster, momma! Hell- I can CRAWL faster than
THIS!

Bulma still didn't know if there was anything left of her rapport
with Vegeta but she couldn't deny the urgency she felt trying to get
reunited with him. "Oh god, Vegeta...Trunks, are you sure this is the
way to your father?"

"Me Vehta. KI!" the baby immediately shouted, motioning one
little arm directly in front of him.

"I guess so," she muttered, irritably moving one sweaty lock of
hair out of her eyes. Chi-Chi and her parents hadn't wanted her to
involve Trunks in this wild goosechase, urging her to wait for Yamcha
to come back. For some reason, she got the impression that if she
waited too long, there wouldn't be any reason to have to wait at all;
by then they would all be ashes. With that grim thought weighing on her
mind, she took the babe despite their heated objections.

"And you... You willfully endangered the boy by bringing him into
a combat area. What were you thinking?"

Bulma actually jumped in place as if Vegeta had spoken into her
ear. Both of her arms broke out in tingling goose bumps at the reminder
of his words back in the hospital. He had been right. She'd had no
right bringing Trunks along so that she could watch the battle against
the androids. That fatal error had very nearly cost them both of their
lives. He had every right to yell at her over it.

Dare to dream that I'll get to hear you yell at me again, Bulma
thought distressingly. She gripped the throttle and turned to Trunks.
"Hold onto your diaper, young man. Your mother is going to warp speed!"

She depressed the booster switch and was forced back into her
seat as the hoverjet's auxiliary rockets fired and forced the small
craft onto even greater speed.

Not even reacting to the g-forces, Trunks only cried,
"!!WHEEEE!!" and kept pointing north.

>>>>>

"Well, well, well," Vegeta said as he jumped to the ground.
"Looks like the gang's all here. Splendid. Now I won't have to waste
any of my precious time tracking you losers down."

The Z Fighters remained silent as he warily circled them, like a
calculating lion searching for the weakest animal among gathered prey.
Both Gohan and Krillin were struck dumb at the sight of his clothes, so
much like the style the Trunks from the future had worn during much of
his visit. For a split second, Gohan almost made the mistake that Tien
had earlier in confusing the two. The resemblance between them was
uncanny, clear testimony of their familial relationship. However, the
teenager's eyes had never contained the dispassionate cruelty that the
adult Saiyan now regarded them with.

Piccolo was practically vibrating in the effort to control his
temper. All along he had thought that he and Tien had been successfully
hiding their power when it was obvious that Vegeta had sensed them all
along. The Saiyan had simply bided his time until the others had showed
up, attracted to the ruination of the city like moths to a flame and
homing in on the distress of their friends. All he had to do was watch
from the shadows while they were all finally reunited, not even having
to lift a finger.

Standing her ground, 18 kept her chin held high even as Vegeta
paused in his stalking and fixed a thorough glare in her direction. For
no reason that Krillin could figure out, 18's face tightened the longer
the Saiyan's scrutiny lingered and her cheeks actually flushed. He
thought it might be from anger but he wasn't entirely sure. The look in
her steel blue eyes was a combination of disdain and excitement. After
a moment of locking eyes, Vegeta's perpetual smirk widened and he moved
on.

"Where's Kakarrot and his brat? They're the only ones worth a
damn in a fight," he stated after his inspection was over.

"My father is dead," Gohan spoke up, taking a step forward. "But
I'm ready to fight you, Vegeta. If I have to."

"Get lost, boy. My quarrel is with a little rugrat about this
high-" He held his hand up to his waist, "Not with you. Yet."

"I've got news for you; that 'rugrat' was me over five years
ago," Gohan insisted. "Smell my scent if you don't believe me."

Vegeta didn't make a move towards him. He could smell the boy
from where he was standing and personal scents never lied. This was,
indeed, the youth he had battled only a month or two before. Wasn't it?
Yet, here he was now; an adolescent. The first threads of indecision
began to spark in Vegeta's eyes at long last.

Sensing a lapse in the Saiyan's resolve, Gohan continued.
"Vegeta, you've been really sick the last couple of month's. You still
haven't recovered. We're only trying to help."

"Do I look like I need your help? Look at me!" Vegeta shouted,
spreading his arms. He powered up and the glowing nimbus of energy
sheathed his frame, rousing the dirt into miniature dust devils around
his feet. "I'm a Super Saiyan! You're nothing compared to me!"

Words aren't going to have any impact here, Gohan realized.
"Fine, your ears won't listen. Maybe your eyes will see."

"What the hell are you babbling ab-" Vegeta's words tumbled to a
halt as he detected a sharp spike in the youth's ki. The boy was
powering up right before his eyes, jumping past levels at an alarming
rate until that aura ignited into a soundless display of light. Where a
dark-haired boy had been standing was now a blond, green-eyed, glowing
powerhouse.

He was witnessing another Super Saiyan.

"Not...possible," Vegeta choked, taking one wandering step
backwards.

"You made the transformation before I did," Gohan told him,
relieved by the reaction he saw. He allowed that confusion to drop his
guard a little and his voice became almost conversational as he said,
"You became that right before the Androids appeared and you really
kicked butt. My father was the first-"

Piccolo, who had been observing from the sidelines, now looked up
in alarm. "Gohan, don't mention-"

"-When he defeated Frieza," the boy finished proudly.

"Shit." The Namek slapped his forehead in frustration.

"Kakarrot defeated Frieza?" Vegeta said in a numb voice. Before
Gohan could respond, the Saiyan released a roar of hatred and his
corona of energy flared outwards until he was glowing like a small
star. "If anyone is going to defeat Frieza, it's going to be ME!" he
screamed. "How dare that third-class trash interfere with my
birthright!?"

"Vegeta, what's done is done," Gohan was trying to reason. He
understood, too late, that the mere mention of Frieza was like waving a
red flag in front of a rabid bull.

"I will have my vengeance," Vegeta snarled. "If I can't exact it
from Kakarrot or Frieza, then I guess I'll just have to take it out of
YOU!"

You can try, Gohan was going to say but in that instant of
transmission between his mind to his mouth, Vegeta propelled himself
forward and slammed into him. The boy flew backwards from the blow, his
momentum forcing him to collide with the far edge of the crater. One
more meter to the left and a jagged spear of shrapnel would have
punched into his back and out through his stomach. He had barely shaken
off that near miss when Vegeta was in front of him again, snarling in
rage. He barely managed to leap into the air before one glowing fist
smashed into the dirt.

"Vegeta! Listen to me!" Gohan persisted but all he got for his
efforts was a sky lit by a multitude of exploding ki bolts. It was one
of Vegeta's most spectacular displays and the rapid-fire assault
blinded the stunned youth. The shockwaves bombarded him from all sides
and were impossible to evade. When he dropped out of the sky in an
effort to escape them, the Saiyan was there, not permitting him any
chance to catch a breath.

Lightening fast punches and kicks were exchanged between the pair
until they became a blur to the gathered fighters standing helplessly
on the sidelines. Mini whirlwinds of disturbed dust and the odd flash
of energy were the only means that Piccolo and the others could keep
track. Only 18, with her superior vision, was able to actually follow
the frenzied battle. For most of the fighting, it was Gohan who was on
the defensive. "The boy is going to lose if he doesn't stop holding
back," she commented, crossing her arms in disgust.

Piccolo glanced at her and then tried to focus on Gohan with his
mental sense. The youth was nowhere near the power level that he had
flaunted over Cell. "Gohan!" he yelled into the dark where blurred
images of the antagonists met and rebounded. "Reasoning with Vegeta
isn't going to help! You're going to have to power up!"

"You're stronger than this?" Vegeta paused long enough to glare
at him. He was barely winded. "Show me."

All during the frenzied combat Gohan had been trying to achieve
that elusive boost to his power. He had tried calling forth images of
his father's final moments, Trunks death, the sight of his friends all
beaten by Cells attacks; to no avail. Because this was Vegeta: father
of Trunks, friend (and more) to Bulma, reluctant ally of the Z
Fighters. Most importantly, he represented something very personal to
Gohan, who was still aching from the loss of his father. The youth was
desperate for someone to fill that massive void. Piccolo soothed some
of the pain but it wasn't nearly enough. He needed a male Saiyan
presence in his life and Vegeta was the only one left.

"I can't," he said in response to the demand. "Please try to
understand-"

"I said- SHOW ME!" Vegeta bellowed and swept in, knocking him out
of the sky with a deliberate kick to the jaw.

Like a missile in decent, Gohan plowed into the ruins of a
building and the remainder of the rubble collapsed around him with a
sound like thunder.

"!!GOHAN!!" Piccolo roared. As he started to move forward, a
blazing arc of blue fire cut a trench directly in front of his feet.

"Stay your place, Namek!" Vegeta cautioned from above. His left
hand was in that unmistakable palm-up position and Piccolo froze in
place. "This battle is unresolved between the boy and myself. I won't
permit any interference like the last time." He glanced at the others
who were starting to fan out. "That goes for the rest of you, too.
Stand down or die."

"Screw you, Vegeta!" Tien yelled at him. "I'm not going to wait
around and take a number for you to eventually get to me. We're all in
this together!"

"Speak for yourself," 18 muttered under her breath. Before
Krillin could protest, the android gathered the back of his shirt and
flew away in the opposite direction, hauling him along beside her. As
far as she was concerned, she had done her part earlier. All she cared
about now was rescuing the only human who meant anything to her and the
rest could fend for themselves. Despite all of the recent changes to
her programming, there was nothing wrong with her self-preservation
software. 18 knew that she was now out of Vegeta's league.

"And then there were two," Vegeta said with undisguised amusement
as he stared at the remaining fighters.

"Damn it! Why won't you listen to us?" Piccolo shouted. "This
fighting is senseless!"

"For a Saiyan, there's no such thing."

Tien had enough of trying to reason with the arrogant alien. He
gathered his fingers in a triangle shape and released a bolt of
concentrated ki before Piccolo could stop him.

Vegeta waited until the last minute and then slapped it away as
if he were swatting a fly. The disk flew to the edge of the city and
detonated with a flash of destructive energy. Tien could have sworn
that he heard screams amid the explosion and his worst fears were
realized when the Saiyan remarked in an off-hand manner, "Tsk. Tsk. You
really should be more careful with those. Oh well, at least that's one
less batch of survivors to worry about."

"You son of a bitch!" Tien screamed.

"Don't bring my mother into this or you just might make me
angry," Vegeta teased.

Just as Tien was about to rush forward, Piccolo grabbed onto his
arm and hauled him roughly back. "Don't be an idiot. He's only trying
to bait you, don't you see that?"

"What else can we do?" Tien asked desperately.

"You can die," Vegeta sighed, finally bored of the conversation.
His palm glowed with deadly fire but before he could release the blast,
Gohan appeared out of nowhere and plowed into him. The pair went flying
into the nearby debris, creating an enormous cloud of dust and ash.
Piccolo and Tien lost sight of them but it was clear that the pair were
clashing with unchecked ferocity. Flashes of rogue ki bolts exploded in
the mangled ruins of the city and partial structures collapsed from the
violence. When Vegeta and Gohan took to the air to continue their
frenzied conflict, it was impossible to tell one from the other; both
of their powers were at a stalemate.

Sensing the boy's present level, Tien hissed at Piccolo, "What
the hell does Gohan think he's playing at? He should be realizing by
now that Vegeta can't be reasoned with. He needs to power up and finish
him for good!"

"I'm not sure that he can," the Namek said in a low voice, very
different from his usual bass rumble. One of the combatants, most
likely Vegeta, released a blue tinged ball of flame that the other
dodged easily. It collided with the ground and exploded with enough
force to cause the ground to shake.

Tien pulled his eyes away from the battle long enough to glance
at the tall alien. "What are you talking about?"

"When Gohan powered up against Cell, he became overconfident.
That lapse in judgment forced Gokou to sacrifice himself in an attempt
to set things right. When Cell returned deadlier than ever, Gohan still
lacked the necessary killing instinct. Do you remember how close that
end nearly was before he came to his senses?" Not giving the huge human
a chance to respond, Piccolo added, "The boy has no desire to kill."

"It's Vegeta's second-nature."

"I know," Piccolo whispered, bowing his head. Very suddenly, he
didn't want to witness anymore of the fighting. He knew how it was
going to end and there was nothing he could do to prevent the outcome.
It was now out of his hands.

>>>>>

"Let-me-GO!!" Krillin hollered. He gave one frantic pull and the
top half of his uniform ripped off in 18's grip, freeing him.

Discarding the rag, the android came to an abrupt halt in her
retreat and reluctantly went back to where the small monk was waiting
for her. His round face was flushed and livid. "What the hell do you
think you're doing, 18?"

"I'm saving you," she responded matter-of-factly.

"Do I look like I need saving?!"

"Yes."

Glaring at her, Krillin snapped, "I've been in skirmishes worse
than this. I don't need you to protect me!"

Tucking a wayward strand of blond hair behind her left ear, she
sniffed and turned her head away. "I won't make that mistake again,"
she said in a wounded voice and turned to leave.

"18!" It was too late; the insulted android powered up and flew
swiftly away until she was quickly out of sight. He waited for another
minute, hoping that she would have a change of heart but it was obvious
that she wasn't coming back.

"Ahhhh crap," he muttered in frustration, turning his back on
wherever it was she went. Her 'abduction' of him had actually been
quite flattering in its intent; she only wanted to see that he stayed
out of harms way. Emotions were new to her and actions were the only
means that she could communicate that she actually cared. He was going
to have to do some serious groveling to get himself back into her good
graces but now was NOT the time.

Just as he was about to return to the center of the city where
the battle was raging, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye
and looked down. Shadows were moving quickly through the debris, a
great many of them and they were heading in the same direction. The
figures blended in with the charred surroundings and were difficult to
pinpoint, but more than once Krillin was sure that he spotted the glint
of firelight bouncing off of smooth metal.

"Uh oh," he whispered.

>>>>>

Diving between two smashed tractor-trailer rigs, Gohan tried to
get his breath back as a flurry of destructo disks punched through the
metal on his right side. There was thump from above and when he spared
a glance upwards, Vegeta was kneeling on the twisted trailer and
grinning down at him. "There you are. Have I ever mentioned how much I
enjoy hide and seek?"

Not wasting the energy for a response, Gohan propelled himself
backwards and knocked the rig over, upsetting the Saiyan. It gave the
boy a chance to focus his power and when he took to the air, Vegeta was
rushing up to meet him. The pair exchanged a near-fanatical series of
blasts that rocked what was left of the city right down to its
mutilated core. The combined might of conflicting power caused fissures
to open in the ruined earth and lightening to dance in the turbulent
clouds.

"You're strong, boy," Vegeta praised, breathing heavily now. He
had discarded the leather jacket long ago and his muscles bunched
beneath his ripped tank top. He threw a kick that the boy repelled and
the pair locked arms and wills as they glared at one another. "But it's
not enough, can't you sense that? You're just about used up!"

There was going to be no miraculous intervention here, Gohan
realized with bitter remorse. Vegeta wasn't going to come to his senses
in the nick of time. The youth brought his knee up under the Saiyan's
chin and, with tears in his eyes, he cupped his hands to his side.
"Kame-"

"That's the spirit, boy!" Vegeta howled maniacally. His personal
aura of gold took on a more disturbed hue as he drew on his own
destructive energies. It pulsated with a threatening purple tinge as he
gathered the strength for an attack all his own.

"-Hame-" The boy's slight form was glowing like a star about to
go super-nova. In his hands, an energy ball filled with righteous fire
was growing in intensity.

"Bring it on!" Vegeta shouted over the roar of thunder. "I'm
ready for you with my-"

-Final Flash Attack? The words whipped through his mind, leaving
only confusion in their wake. What the FUCK is a Final Flash Att-

"!!HAH!!" Gohan screamed, his voice breaking on the syllable.
From his hands exploded a massive channel of destructive might aimed
solely at the bewildered Saiyan.

The pent up energies of an aborted Gallic Gun Attack turned into
a desperate shield that Vegeta barely brought up in time. As it was,
the blast shattered the ki wall and bathed him mercilessly in white-hot
fire. His entire body alight, he dove screaming into the ruins where
Gohan lost sight of him.

He hesitated. Vegeta actually hesitated. I saw it! the boy
realized with newfound hope in his wide eyes. That emotion was
immediately joined by another: horror. He had hit the Saiyan point
blank with a Kamehameha Blast and probably wounded him or-or worse.
Swallowing, he gathered his nerve and gave chase.

Not far away, Vegeta had found a ruptured hydrant and was rolling
his body in the mud to extinguish the flames. His clothes had saved him
from the worst of the blast but both of his bare arms were burned and
his entire body was smoldering under the torrent of gushing water. He
got to his knees, gasping for air and starting to shiver from the cold
spray. Water ran into his eyes, obscuring his surroundings and when he
wiped the moisture away, he found himself on a planet he didn't
recognize. Overhead, the sky was a hazy but unmistakable green.

Where am I? he thought and on the heels of that came the answer:
Namek. You're on Namek. The place where you died, remember?

A sharp lance of pain pierced his brain like a laser and he
gripped his skull and fell into the mud, thrashing against the
onslaught of returning memories. It was in this state that Gohan found
him. "Vegeta, what can I do?" he asked, kneeling beside the ailing
Saiyan.

Squinting up at him, Vegeta saw the boy's face warp and change
until it became a lavender-haired youth with piercing blue eyes. A name
was on the tip of his tongue but still unnervingly beyond his reach.
The pain drilled down deeper and the image distorted into a pale, bald
creature with black lips curled into a cruel grin. THAT face he could
name.

Kicking out, Vegeta knocked Gohan away and scrambled backwards
until he was back on his feet. The singing in his head was galvanizing,
making clear thought impossible and he dug his nails into his scalp
until he drew blood. "Get out- Get out- GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

"Vegeta, you're sick. You need to get some help," Gohan
persisted.

Baring his teeth in clear warning, Vegeta shook his head
violently and was about to attack the threat when a voice filled his
mind.

Please listen to Gohan, Vegeta!

The Saiyan visibly faltered. "Kah-Kakarrot?"

He's worried about you, we all are. Please let him help you
before it's too late.

The voice faded and took away some of the agony that interfered
with conscious thought and the surroundings slowly came back into
focus. When Vegeta looked up again, he didn't see Trunks or Frieza or a
half a dozen other ghosts. All he saw was a scared little boy who was
holding his hand out towards him. His name was- was... "Gohan."

"I'm here for you, Vegeta. I'm not going anywhere," the boy was
actually crying. "I'm not going to lose you, too."

Hesitating for only a second, Vegeta started to reach out to that
offered hand. Just before he made contact, Gohan's senses screamed
danger and he rushed forward to shove Vegeta out of the way. A split
second later, a bullet punched through Gohan's left shoulder and spun
him around. He landed on the ground, gripping the wound with a shaking
hand, trying to staunch the blood flow. He locked eyes with Vegeta who
was staring at him with dawning realization.

This... has happened before, Vegeta thought and grimaced as he
rubbed his aching temple. A memory surfaced where he was lying in the
dirt where Cell had thrown him and the boy was there, his left arm
lying useless by his side. A mere child had saved his life and all that
he could say in feeble apology was, "I'm sorry, Gohan. I am."

When he looked up again, a dozen soldiers were flanking them on
all sides and growing in number, emerging from the ruins as if by
magic. Their camouflage made identification difficult but all that
Vegeta cared about were the rifles that were aimed at him. The weapons
looked familiar and the number fifteen floated in his mind for no good
reason. The confusion plagued him even as two figures landed nearby and
Vegeta homed in on the one dressed in white.

"Hello, Vegeta," Professor Gerald Willis said in an even voice.
Beside him, Yamcha was staring at all of the devastation like a man
confronting his worst nightmare. When he had stopped sightseeing long
enough, he finally noticed Gohan for the first time. "Oh no!" He ran
over to the boy and shouted back to the doctor, "You told me that no
one was going to get hurt!"

Ignoring him, Willis and Vegeta stared at one another while the
fighter fussed over the boy. "Quite the handiwork. I'm impressed," the
doctor remarked, extending a hand towards the vast wreckage.

"Thanks," Vegeta said, trying desperately to place the face to a
name.

"You're not welcome." The doctor's face became as hard as stone.
"These deaths lie on my conscience, not yours. I should have ended your
life in the hospital when I had the chance. This is what I get for
being charitable." From his coat pocket, he pulled out small black
container and from it, extracted a small needle. "Are we going to do
this the easy way, or the hard way?"

The sight of that green-tinged liquid in the minuscule container
made all of the moisture in Vegeta's mouth dry up. He shook his head
and attempted one wandering step back. In reaction to the move, all of
the soldiers brought their rifles around and focused on his head and
heart.

"What's going on?" Yamcha shouted. He had an arm around Gohan's
waist, supporting the dazed youth who was trying to collect his
bearings. "You said you were just going to help Vegeta. What the hell
do you think you're doing?"

"This is far more concentrated than the watered-down version we
used at the Installation," Willis said in a quiet, unthreatening voice.
"You won't even feel any pain. I promise."

Starting to shake, Vegeta looked first at the needle and then at
the doctor and finally to the surroundings. Nothing made any sense any
more. His memories were a jumbled mess that needed time to be sorted
through but for some reason he got the impression that time was running
out. He could only stare back to the doctor in confusion as the man
moved in; his cherished Super Saiyan form slipping away from his grasp
with each passing second.

"Vegeta! Snap out of it!" yelled Yamcha, of all people, just as
the doctor was about to push the needle into his flesh.

Reacting as if he were slapped, Vegeta wrenched his arm away and
took one really good look at the doctor. "I... remember you," he
muttered. It was the truth: All at once he remembered all of the
tortures of Installation 15. The bewilderment passed from his face and
was replaced with its previous hostility. Before Willis could react,
Vegeta drove his fist through the man's stomach and out through his
back. The doctor vomited a huge gout of blood and blinked at him in
amazement. "Y-you..."

"Give my best to Frieza," Vegeta snarled and threw the dying
scientist into the path of some of the soldiers as the others were
sighting in. Yamcha propelled himself into the air with Gohan close
beside him as the sound of gunfire and the flash of light were
virtually simultaneous. When the smoke cleared, the Saiyan was the only
one left standing.

"What- Who was that-?" Gohan was stammering. He had reverted back
to his human form and his perforated shoulder was throbbing agony.

"Later," Yamcha told him. "I'll explain everything later." He
felt acute remorse for the boy's wound because he had been the one to
lead the doctor and the army troops straight to Vegeta. Willis had
assured him that he could help and the fighter had believed him. More
and more, he was beginning to understand Vegeta's distrust of humans.

Wandering around in the recently disturbed dirt, Vegeta caught a
glimpse of glass and bent down to brush through the ash. What his
fingers found was the needle, miraculously unbroken. He lost his hold
on his transformed state and fell to his knees once the corona of power
lifted. All at once he felt tired and old and weak. A part of his mind
that appeared unscathed from the pounding between his temples picked up
the presence of three more fighters rapidly approaching. It didn't
matter if they were coming to fight or help, Vegeta didn't care anymore
as he looked at the lone needle lying in his palm. All that he cared
about was that they had been right all along and he had been wrong.
Again. These constant failures were becoming more than he could bear.

Yamcha wasn't sure what to say or do, distracted by his desire to
get Gohan some medical help and to stay and talk with Vegeta. He wasn't
entirely sure that things were actually finished here. It came as a
relief when Piccolo landed beside him, followed by Krillin and Tien.
The small monk had sought out the other two and warned them that
soldiers were prowling the ruins. They had subdued a few of the cadres
but it was apparent that they hadn't dispatched them fast enough.
"Gohan!"

"I'm okay. It's just a scratch," the boy tried to dismiss the
injury. Unwinding his turban, Piccolo used the wrapping as a makeshift
bandage while he kept a veiled eye on Vegeta. "How is he?"

"His memories came back after I hit him with a Kamehameha," Gohan
said. "I think he's still pretty out of it, though."

"What's he got in his hand?"

"Frieza's poison," Yamcha piped up. "I tracked down the doctor
who had experimented on him. He had a refined sample to use on Vegeta
just..." he cast an uneasy glance at Gohan. "Y'know, just in case. I
didn't think that he was actually going to try and use it."

Piccolo was certain that Yamcha's naivety was going to be the
death of them all. Casting the fighter a disapproving glare, he
sauntered over to where the Saiyan was still kneeling in the dirt.
"Vegeta, it's over. It's time to leave."

"Over," Vegeta echoed in a numb voice. He looked around like a
man coming out of a dream. "I...killed them all."

"It's nothing that the dragonballs can't fix," the Namek
dismissed. He reached for the other alien's arm with the intension of
hauling him to his feet and got a brutal shock that numbed his arm all
the way up to the elbow. "Yee-owch! Vegeta, what the hell-"

"Leave me alone," Vegeta said in a stronger voice. "I can't make
much sense of what's in my head but I remember this part. We had this
discussion before."

"What the hell are you babbling about-" His words tumbled to a
halt when the Saiyan poked the needle into his forearm and positioned
his thumb directly over the plunger. "I mean it, Namek. Back off.
You're not going to knock me out and take me to an accursed hall of
mirrors this time. Let me think on this."

"Vegeta-" At a rare loss for words, the Namek could only back up
where the others were waiting. Tien didn't like the stunned look on the
alien's face. He looked from the Namek to Vegeta and back again.
"Piccolo, what's going on?"

"Yamcha, get Gohan to Dende's Look-Out so that he can have his
wounds healed. Tien and Krillin; go lend some aid to the survivors."

"Sure, Piccolo, but-"

"Do it!" the Namek hissed at them, baring his fangs. They did as
ordered with only Gohan really protesting about leaving the scene,
perhaps sensing some of his mentor's apprehension. Piccolo deliberately
shut his mind to the boy's probing thoughts and that action only
worried him more. Left alone, the Namek crossed his arms and began his
grim vigil.

Vegeta dismissed him as soon as he was out of sight. Images
flashed through his mind of half-remembered battles and people he
couldn't immediately place a name to. Each vision left the sensation of
a claw mark across his vulnerable mind until it felt as if his brain
was criss-crossed with gashes. Even worse, the memories came in no
particular order. One second he was in the Room of Spirit and Time and
the next, he was battling Dodoria on Namek. The visions became a
dizzying assortment of shutter clicks until he threw back his head and
screamed from the agony of it. It was too much! TOO MUCH! The sensory
overload was killing him but slowly- Much too slowly...

Sweat ran down his face like bitter tears. His thumb was about to
push down on the plunger and end his suffering once and for all when-

-VEHHTAHHH!

He released a startled grunt at the intensity of the thought that
plowed through his mind. Even more shocking was how that innocent cry
seemed to sooth some of the torture that was going on in his head.

Nearby, Piccolo grumbled deep in his throat when he caught sight
of Bulma's hoverjet dropping in for a landing. Despite his better
judgment, he left Vegeta's side and intercepted Bulma as she was
getting out of the cockpit with Trunks in her arms. "Oh my God, would
you look at all of this?" she commented in a stunned voice. It was even
worse then she could have ever imagined and kneeling several meters
away was the sole source of the carnage. Her face only tightened with
resolve and she started walking until Piccolo stepped in front of her.
"Bulma, this isn't a good time."

Craning her head up to look at him, Bulma wasn't intimidated in
the least. "Get out of my way, Piccolo! I have to get to Vegeta!"

"He's still not in his right mind," the alien cautioned. "You
might be doing more harm than good if you disturb him."

Leaning around his bulk Bulma saw that Vegeta was sitting hunched
over, apparently talking to himself. "I have to go to him, Piccolo.
Please!"

The Namek wasn't about to give up one inch until his antennae
twitched and he focused his gaze on the child Bulma was carrying.
Trunks was staring at his father with unnatural attention and even more
striking-

-the child's ki level was rising.

"Trunks?" It dawned on Bulma that the baby felt unusually warm,
as if he was burning up with a fever and she couldn't help but notice
that he was faintly glowing.

Piccolo stepped quickly aside and let them pass, trailing along
after them like a curious hawk. Bulma immediately sat herself down in
the dirt beside the stricken alien and she released a choked sound when
she caught sight of the needle. "Oh... Vegeta..."

He blinked and looked around, noticing her for the first time. "I
know you," he rasped out. "Back on Namek. You were cheering on Zarbon
during our fight-" He shouted out in pain and pressed the heel of his
hand against his forehead. Piccolo swept in and plucked the needle from
his arm, crushing it under his shoe before the Saiyan could react. Once
that was done, he began to feel a little better until he caught one
good look at the suffering trio. It was enough to put a damper on his
spirits.

"We'll get you home and heal you, Vegeta." Bulma was trying not
to burst into tears but she was fighting a losing battle. He just
looked so AWFUL! "You-you're going to be alright!"

"Agh-SHIT! This HURRRRTS!" Vegeta screamed, bowing over with the
pain.

Thrashing in his mother's arms, Trunks leaned over and caught
handfuls of Vegeta hair in his chubby fists. Bulma was going to pull
him away until she noticed that the boy's glow had intensified and
Vegeta wasn't shivering in pain anymore. Casting a confused glance at
Piccolo, she decided to wait out the strange communion.

Innocent pictures awash with bright colors and gentle scents;
this was a perspective from a baby's point of view. Memories that
contained no malice or emotion but were just images of the world that
was still fresh and new and exciting. A simple blade of grass was the
dazzling color of emeralds and had the sensation of silk. A butterfly
was a flying marvel that floated on the air currents like magic-
impossible to comprehend. Conscious thought was inconsequential, a
symbiosis of emotion mixed with pictures spared the limitations of
words. Gentle scents of family and friends carried assurances of love
and tenderness. Added to the mix were the tastes, smells and appearance
of meals that dominated this particular land of perceptions; from
breast to bottle to spoon. It was a comfort that became associated with
all other things until they were intertwined.

This was Trunks world. And right now, he was sharing it with his
father.

Through their rapport, he could feel the poison-thoughts hurting
the one he called Vehta. As far back as he could remember, this adult
always carried that pain around with him. Sometimes it hovered in the
background like a kite on a string or was whirling around like a dog
chasing its tail. All that the boy cared about was that the visions
seemed to be constantly plaguing his father. Lately though, they had
gotten much worse until there were very few good thoughts left. Right
now, there were hardly any at all. With a determination and skill far
beyond his young age, Trunks forced the poison-thoughts away, filling
that void with his own memories. Like shadows before purest light, the
dark images receded to the corners of Vegeta's mind where they could be
sorted out and examined over time; not all at once. That wailing agony
was gradually replaced with a soft, gentle sound that was a cross
between a mother's lullaby and the purring of a cat.

"DAH!" Trunks said triumphantly, releasing his hold of Vegeta's
hair. His brief aura dissipated without his being aware of it and he
clapped his hands in excitement. "Vehta! Dah-da-YAH!"

Drawing in a ragged breath, Vegeta slowly straightened and stared
at the baby, blinking in amazement. He reached out with trembling
fingers and touched the boy's cheek, as if trying to prove to himself
that this vision was real. His lips mouthed words and Bulma had to lean
in closer to hear what he was saying. She discovered that they were two
simple words but they meant so much more. Her heart surged with hope
for their future.

His words to Trunks were: "Thank you."


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Chapter Fifteen: Bulma tries to gain back Vegeta's trust.