Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Wish For The Past ❯ Shadows in the Night ( Chapter 51 )

Vegeta lay in bed, staring moodily up at the ceiling with his hands behind his head as he replayed the events of the day in his mind. Two scenes seemed to stand out in his memory, switching from one to the other without any direction from his conscious thoughts. One was the image of an injured Kakarot sleeping on bloodstained sheets, unclothed and uncovered. Why had he pulled those blankets back up over him? What did he care if the brat was cold or not? It's not like it even mattered to him whether Kakarot lived or not... right?

The other scene was of the incident later that afternoon. Trunks, Goten, and Kakarot had been having so much fun trying on those ridiculous clothes, completely at ease with each other, and Vegeta couldn't help but wonder what it was like to be so carefree. He had wanted so much to join them in their play, to participate in their pointless conversations, hell, even try on one or two of those shirts. It didn't matter. He just.. he had just wanted to be with others like him.

A lump of emotion formed in the young prince's throat, which he quickly swallowed, rolling onto his side to stare out the window and up at the twinkling stars in the night sky. Clutching a fistful of the blankets to his chest, he curled up into a little ball and exhaled softly. And then Bardock had come, ruining the moment right as he had been about to make his decision. He wanted to hate Bardock for that, but for some reason, he couldn't. It hadn't really been the older Saiyan's fault that Vegeta was so weak. No, the blame for that rested squarely on Vegeta's shoulders.

The only problem was, the ten year old boy couldn't figure out what it was that made him weak. Was it weak to want to play with other children, to associate with members of a lower class? Or had he been weak in allowing Bardock's presence to stop him from following through on his desires? It was one or the other, but Vegeta didn't know which it was. All he knew was that he had been unforgivably weak, and the Saiya-jin no Ouji must never be weak!

"But which action was the sin?" he whispered to himself, doubt gnawing on the edges of his soul. He needed to know. Needed to know what he had done that had made him into such a weakling, or else he could never rectify the situation. He needed someone he could talk to, someone who was familiar with the burdens and responsibilities of being a Prince of a warrior race, who would know what things made you weak, and what things made you strong.

He needed his dad.

"But father is dead." A sharp stinging in his eyes told him that he was about to commit another crime, and he hastily scrubbed the tears away before they could form. Drawing in a shuddering breath, he crawled out of the bed and opened the window, hoping that perhaps the cool night breeze would help him regain his composure. The air whispered into the room, stirring the oversized white shirt that he wore and brushing against his skin until he wrapped his arms around himself and shivered. Closing his eyes, he faced the wind head on, not caring that his skin was prickling with goose bumps from the cold. The chill air seemed to clear his mind, allowing him to think without distraction, and suddenly he realized something.

There was someone he could talk to.

With a newfound resolve, the little Saiyan padded out of the room until he came to the bedroom door of the person who could help him. A wave of uncertainty rippled through him as he lifted his hand to open the door, knowing that once he stepped inside that room, he couldn't turn back. His own pride would force him to follow through with his plan, and he would have to bare his soul to the person on the other side of that door.

Straightening his back with determination, Vegeta laid his hand on the handle and turned it, quietly pushing the door open and stepping through before allowing it to swing shut behind him.

"Grandpa!" Goten cried out, shooting upright in bed so suddenly he nearly fell onto the floor. Shivering and crying, he stared around wildly until he finally realized where he was. Tears streamed down the little boy's face which he didn't bother to wipe away and he clambered out of the bed, sobbing. The nightmare had been so vivid, he would have sworn it was real if his eyes weren't telling him otherwise. Thinking about the nightmare, he shuddered and ran over to the door of his room, pulling it open so he could dash down the hall to his grandfather's room. He had to make sure that it was only a dream, and that his grandpa was okay.

Without even bothering to close the door after him, he darted into the darkened room and crawled into Bardock's bed so he could look at the sleeping warrior's face. His whole body began to shake with relief when he confirmed that the Saiyan was only asleep, and not dead as he had feared. Not caring if he woke his grandfather up, Goten threw himself into the man's arms, sobbing gratefully as he buried his face in the other's neck with tears still sliding down his cheeks.

At first, Bardock didn't seem to notice and lay unreacting on the bed, then all at once, his eyes flew open and he gasped. Noticing Goten desperately clinging to his neck, he ignored the impulse to sit up, instead lifting a hand to rub his grandson's back. He didn't know why Goten was crying, but he felt he needed to do something to comfort him.

Not waiting for his grandpa to ask what was wrong, Goten sobbed out, "I had a nightmare, grandpa! And... and I s-saw you die, and Vegeta h-hurt you and... and... Goku and Uncle Radditz were d-dead, too!!"

"I had the same dream!" Bardock turned his head to look at the doorway and found Goku standing there in his new night shirt looking a little sleepy and upset at the same time. As Goku tottered over to the bed, Bardock sat up, still holding Goten, and patted the spot next to him. Hopping up onto the bed, the seven year old looked up at his father with disturbed eyes. "It was scary," he said softly, leaning into Bardock's embrace. "There was smoke and fire and... and everyone was dead..." The boy sniffled and rubbed his eyes. "Bulma and oniichan and you, tousan, and... and everyone..." he trailed off miserably, not really knowing how to describe what he had seen.

For several long moments, Bardock said nothing, a troubled look on his face even as he hugged the two children. They had the same dream as me... only mine wasn't a dream. But how did they see the vision when I'm the one cursed with seeing the future? Have we really grown that close, or was I somehow broadcasting my vision to them? Or... what if the curse can be transferred? After all, that damn alien transferred it to me, didn't he? What if I inadvertently passed it on to Goku and Goten? A shudder of dread swept through him at the thought of these two innocent children witnessing the terrible things he'd been seeing and he quickly shoved his concerns to the back of his mind. Now was not the time to dwell on what-ifs.

"It's all right, it's ok," he murmured to them, stroking their backs simultaneously. He wanted to tell them that it had only been a nightmare, that none of it was true, but he couldn't bring himself to lie to them. Even so, he decided not to tell them that it had been a vision of the future. There was no need to scare them like that, and he still wasn't sure what these dual visions meant, if one set was true and the other false, or if they were both true. Until he could determine why he was seeing visions that seemed to contradict each other, it would be best to keep silent about them. And as for the possibility of accidentally passing on the visions to either of them... Well, it might only be a fluke. Best wait and see if they keep having visions, or if this was a one-time thing.

He continued to make comforting sounds, not really saying anything intelligent, just speaking for the sake of letting them hear his voice. Eventually, their distress ebbed away and they snuggled into his arms, their breathing becoming slower, steadier, until they drifted off into more pleasant dreams. Sighing with relief, Bardock leaned back into his pillow and stared up at the ceiling, wondering if he would get anymore sleep this night. He didn't really think so. He had too much on his mind now to possibly have any chance of settling down enough to to be able to fall asleep. Swirling through his head were thoughts of the visions and their possible meanings, and now worries about why the two boys in his arms were getting his visions. With his mind thinking this furiously, it would be impossible to get it to slow down enough to get any decent amount of sleep.

Oh well. He'd survive. Carefully pulling the blankets back over himself, his son, and his grandson without waking either of them, he prepared for a long night of wakefulness.

And promptly fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Vegeta hesitantly walked over to the bed where the nine year old boy was sleeping, trying to maintain a steady grip on his resolve as he reached a hand out to rest it on the other boy's shoulder. The lavender haired kid was sprawled out on his bed, the sheets only halfway covering his body, and he was snoring softly through his open mouth. Seeing that his future son wasn't reacting to his light touch, the dark haired prince shook him slightly. "Trunks?" he said softly, almost whispering.

Grumbling in his sleep, Trunks's eyelids fluttered briefly before he resumed his snoring, one hand unconsciously lifting to scratch an imaginary itch on his neck before flopping back down on the bed. A look of mild annoyance and determination crossed Vegeta's features, and he shook Trunks again, roughly enough that the other boy's head lolled from side to side. At last, the demi-Saiyan's eyes cracked open enough to search for whatever was interrupting his sleep, a flicker of surprise flashing across his face as he realized who had woken him up.

"Vegeta? What are you doing here?" he mumbled, sitting up in bed and turning to face his chibi father.

Instead of answering immediately, Vegeta crawled onto Trunks's bed and sat down, hugging his knees to his chest while curling his tail around his ankles. He rested his chin on one knee and stared at the younger child, feeling more vulnerable than he ever had before. "I need to talk to someone," he said at last, locking his gaze onto Trunks's startled blue eyes. He had thought that he could keep the emotion out of his voice, but a note of loneliness still crept in.

Curious and just a little bit concerned by what he heard in Vegeta's voice, Trunks tucked his legs under him cross-legged and looked attentively at the Saiyan sitting across from him. "What about?" he asked cautiously, searching his chibi father's face for any sign of what he was feeling.

Taking a deep breath, Vegeta plunged directly into the matter. "I need to know if I'm..." he faltered for a moment, then stoically continued, "if I'm weak." Before Trunks could so much as open his mouth, he hurried to explain, the words tumbling from his mouth as though a floodgate somewhere inside him had been opened. "You see, earlier today, I wanted to... to play with you. And Goten and Kakarot. And before that, I tucked Kakarot in bed and watched over him while everyone was gone. And they're both of third class lineage, even if you're not, and... and... I'm the Saiya-jin no Ouji." He looked down miserably at the rumpled bed sheets. His next words were filled with all the emotional torment and pain that he was feeling, no longer held in check but there for his son to plainly see. "Am I weak, Trunks? To want to play? To play with a third class? To... to care? To care if he's hurt, or cold, or if he dies? And was it weak to run away from playing with you when Bardock came in?" A single tear slid from his left eye, unnoticed as the young prince repeated himself, pleading with the other boy for an answer to his fears. "Am I weak?"

Trunks was stunned. He could feel his jaw dropping open slightly as he stared at the boy who would one day be his father, amazed at what he was hearing and seeing. Vegeta was asking if he was weak? And... crying? His mind finally caught up with the information he was receiving and he shook his head vehemently. "Vegeta, if you're weak, then so am I! I mean, I'm a Prince of the Saiyans, too, and your son, and I play with Goten and Goku all the time! In fact, Goten's been my best friend my whole life! And it's okay to care what happens to people, no matter what class they supposedly are. After all, you... I mean, my dad... he loves my mom, even though he doesn't say it, but I can tell. And mom's really weak! She's a genius, but she couldn't form a ki blast if her life depended on it. And playing isn't weak. Playing is what kids are supposed to do!" A thoughtful look crossed the boy's face and he added, "I guess you don't know that, though, since you probably had to act strong in front of your dad and Frieza." He was guessing blindly there, since his dad didn't really talk about his childhood much, but it made sense.

A tiny gleam of hope shone briefly in Vegeta's eyes at Trunks's words, only to be snuffed out like a candle in the wind. "But I ran away," he grated out harshly, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears that threatened to follow the first one. "I was going to play with you and the others when Bardock came in, and I... I ran away!" Feelings of self-hate, despair, and loneliness drenched his soul like a cold rain and he couldn't hold the tears back any longer. Burying his face in his knees, he cried helplessly, ashamed of his weakness, and ashamed of his tears.

"You're wrong," Trunks stated softly, yet firmly, hesitantly reaching a hand out to his young father's shoulder. Vegeta lifted his tear streaked face to stare at Trunks, and the younger boy smiled encouragingly. "You're not weak. You're the strongest person I know. You've just never admitted that you have any feelings, so even though you were willing to open up a little when it was just me and Goten and Goku, it doesn't mean you were ready to show emotions around older people like Bardock. My dad still has problems with that. He wouldn't admit that he cared about anyone until he was about to die, and even then he didn't say or do much beyond hug me and say he was proud of me and to tell mom that he loved her. Emotions aren't bad, Vegeta, unless you let them control your actions to the point where your brain doesn't have any say in the matter." In a sudden, daring move to prove his point, Trunks leaned forward and gave the surprised prince a quick hug, then settled back to see if his words and actions had had any effect on Vegeta.

Vegeta stared at the other boy's face, searching it for any sign that he might be lying, or just saying things to soothe the prince's pain without really meaning any of it. All he saw was honesty and sincerity and... pride. Trunks's face radiated pride... in Vegeta. Surprised that, even after showing the powerful demi-Saiyan just how weak he was, Trunks could feel proud of him, Vegeta could only nod wordlessly to let the boy from the future know that he had taken the words to heart.

Having nothing else to say, Vegeta glanced at the door, reluctantly realizing that it was probably time for him to leave. Looking back at the purple haired chibi, though... The ten year old bowed his head, focusing on his fidgeting hands as he worked up the courage to ask Trunks one last question.

"Can I... stay with you tonight?" he asked hesitantly, lifting his head high enough so he could see how the other boy reacted to his request. "I... I don't want to be alone anymore."

In response, Trunks grinned and scooted over to make room for Vegeta, wriggling under the covers and laying his head on the pillow, knowing that anything he said would only embarrass the young prince. Relief and gratitude filled Vegeta's heart and he smiled back faintly as he crawled over to the other side of the bed and got under the blankets, glad that Trunks seemed to know him so well.

Silence reigned for a few minutes, then...

"Hey, Vegeta?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you wanna play tag tomorrow?"

".................. Okay."