Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Wish For The Past ❯ Scars of the Past ( Chapter 59 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Disclaimer: While cleaning out under my bed, I found some leftover Easter candy. Don't ask me which Easter it came from, or how long it's been there. And, yes, I fully intend to eat it. ^_^ Anyway, that's currently my only possession of any significant value. I don't own DBZ. If you try to sue me, I'm letting you know now that the only thing you might possibly get out of it is my bag of who-knows-how-old-it-is candy. And that's only if you sue me before I eat it all. *grins and pops a jelly bean in her mouth*

A/N: Yeah, I'm quite aware that the chapter title is the same as the name of one of Frozenflower's fics. What can I say? The name just fit. ^_^

But Vegeta didn't mean to hurt me! He said he was sorry, and I believe him! Out of the entire conversation Bardock had just had with his son, those two sentences stood out the most clearly in his mind. Walking slowly towards the room he felt Vegeta's ki coming from, the same room he had left the boy in, he couldn't help but feel surprised by Goku's reaction to the whole affair. From what he had gathered, Goku had asked, no, insisted on sparring with Vegeta, and when the two boys got into a standoff of ki against ki, his son had eventually been overpowered. This had resulted in the seven year old's burned and blind condition that he had been in when Vegeta brought him back to the house. But was Goku affected by any of this? Not at all. After being healed, he was almost instantly back to his normal, cheerful self, stating that he'd had fun and that he wanted to spar with the young prince again. Not a drop of fear that something like that might happen again, not a single worry about whether his opponent had meant to hurt him like that or not. To the little Saiyan it had all been a normal accident, the kind of thing that could happen no matter who you were sparring with. One apology, and the whole thing was forgiven and well on its way to being forgotten.

But Goku's reaction wasn't the only surprise that conversation had held. That one, simple apology that the chibi seemed to take for granted seemed so unlikely to Bardock that he would almost have thought Goku was making it up, if not for the fact that he didn't think his son was capable of lying. Especially not about something like this. But that left him with the startling conclusion that Vegeta really did apologize, and Bardock didn't know how he felt about that. On the one hand, he was glad that the prince hadn't meant to harm Goku, that this whole thing actually was an accident despite his initial conclusions. But on the other hand, it was hard to believe that Vegeta had somehow changed enough to get down off his high horse and apologize to a lowly third class child for anything, whether or not it was actually his fault. Only a few days ago, he had callously revealed the true nature of Grandpa Gohan's death, showing not the least bit of remorse for his actions, and now he was showing outright concern for Goku and apologizing. How had Vegeta changed that much, that quickly?

No, that's not quite true, he amended silently, his mind thinking back to that morning after he'd retrieved his wounded son and tended his wounds, when he had caught the ten year old prince standing next to the chibi's bed with an unidentifiable expression on his face. And later, when he'd returned from the shopping trip to find Vegeta asleep in the chair as though he'd fallen asleep watching over Goku. In hind sight, these two incidents seemed to indicate that there was at least a degree of remorse on Vegeta's part for the problems he'd caused. But it just seems so unrealistic to say "Vegeta's changed! He's not a spoiled little prince anymore! He's changed his ways, so now everything will be fine and dandy!" Bardock snorted. Yeah right. If only it was that simple.

With a sigh, the thirty three year old Saiyan realized that he had come to the open door leading to Goku's bedroom and that there was no more time for him to speculate and sort out his thoughts. Raising one hand to rub the bridge of his nose where he felt a headache developing, he cautiously stepped into the sunlit room, his eyes searching for the frustratingly unpredictable child who was the cause of this latest mess. He found Vegeta standing at the window, hands clasped behind his back as he stared out at something Bardock couldn't see. The sight of the ten year old Saiyan seemed to bring back all the anger that Bardock had felt the moment he'd laid eyes upon his son's twisted body hanging limp in the older boy's arms. Here stood the boy who had nearly killed his son, gazing casually out the window, while Goku sat in a bathtub, the water stained red with his blood. Goku was alive. But it could just as easily be otherwise. Unconsciously clenching and unclenching his fists, the warrior struggled to control his rising ire by telling himself over and over again that it had been an accident, that Vegeta had apologized, and that he was not here to lose control of his emotions.

Either sensing Bardock's ki or hearing the warrior's quiet footsteps as he entered the room, Vegeta allowed his arms to drop to his sides and he turned around to face the older Saiyan. His face was a carefully composed mask that allowed no emotion to show through, no clue as to what was going on behind those obsidian eyes. Besides lifting those eyes to meet Bardock's troubled gaze, the boy did nothing, waiting for the other Saiyan to make the first move.

It took a considerable effort on his part, but Bardock managed to force himself to calm down, making his fists open up so they wouldn't betray his inner feelings. Taking a deep breath, he stated simply, "Goku told me what happened."

Vegeta's eyes flickered with hidden emotion as he searched the warrior's face for a brief moment before nodding wordlessly. To Bardock's puzzlement, the young prince pulled the top half of his gi off and dropped it on the floor, then turned back to face the window, shoulders squared and head slightly bowed.

"Vegeta, what are you doing?" he asked in confusion.

The question seemed to surprise the ten year old, because when he turned his head so he could look back over his shoulder at Bardock, he had his eyebrows quirked questioningly. "Aren't you going to beat me now?" Vegeta asked bluntly, his voice as devoid of emotion as his face had been.

Now it was Bardock's turn to be taken aback, and his own eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What?"

"Whenever I conducted myself improperly, or failed in some task or mission," Vegeta explained matter-of-factly, "father took me into the private courtyard and would either beat me or whip me, depending on how serious the matter had been and how angry he was. I nearly killed your son, so..." Allowing the sentence to trail off, the little Saiyan turned away again, baring his back to whatever might come. "I am ready to receive my punishment, sir."

Bardock stood where he was, rooted in place by the shock of Vegeta's words. He had heard that King Vegeta was a harsh ruler, but this... His eyes were drawn involuntarily to the boy's bare back, suddenly noticing perhaps hundreds of faint scars criss-crossing their way across his skin, some jagged and irregular, some straight and narrow. The wounds that had made the scars had obviously been in a regen tank relatively soon after being inflicted, as most of them were almost too faint to see unless you were looking for them, but one scar running from the child's right shoulder to his left hip stood out in stark relief, the pale flesh pulled taut between the boundaries of the scar. Almost an inch thick, it had to have hurt terribly when it had occurred, and then been left to heal on its own without the aid of a regen tank. How did someone so young get so many battle scars? his numb mind wondered. Then the pieces fell into place, Vegeta's statement connecting with the scars he bore, and Bardock realized that they were not battle scars. Not all of them, anyway.

They were the scars of a boy beaten and whipped into submission.

"Are we there yet?" Pilaf whined nasally from the back seat of the jet that he, Mai, and Shao were all flying in. Not waiting for them to answer, he impatiently scooted over to the edge of the chair where he could press his face against the glass window and stare down at the forest below. "Are you even sure where you're going?" he demanded impatiently.

"Trust me, sire," Agent Mai replied smoothly from the pilot's seat, keeping her eyes forward and her attention on where they were going. "This is the area our radar said three dragonballs were all located together. In fact, it should only be another minute before we're at the estimated coordinates."

Sulking childishly at the thought of having to wait even sixty seconds, the little blue emperor growled. "You had better be right, Agent Mai, or I'll try my new toy out on you instead of whoever has my dragonballs!"

Mai merely rolled her eyes at her employer and ignored him, having known him long enough to know when he was making threats for the sake of hearing himself speak and when he was actually threatening her. Of course, if she was wrong, then she could expect to be punished severely, but the black haired woman was confident that the technology that had led her here hadn't failed her.

"Sire, look!" Shao yipped excitedly, pointing towards a small white dot settled into a clearing in the middle of the forest. It was the only sign of human habitation for miles around, so it stood out clearly against the arboreal backdrop. "I bet that's what we're looking for, sire! Whoever gathered those three dragonballs probably lives in that house!"

Petulance forgotten, Pilaf was at the window again in a flash, face pressed against the glass to get a better view of their destination. "Yes! YES! Nyahaha!! Soon I'll be that much closer to ruling the world! I should thank whatever fool lives in that house for gathering my dragonballs for me. Or maybe I'll torture him for daring to try to take my wish from me!" Giggling at the prospect of obtaining three more of the precious balls as well as being able to gloat his victory over a soon-to-be captive audience, the little gremlin lifted his hand imperiously and pointed at the distant capsule house. "Mai, take us to that capsule house! Shao, prepare the Thing!"

"Huh? What thing?" the confused dog-man asked, turning his head to look at his boss.

"The THING, you idiot!" Pilaf screeched, lashing out at his lackey with his small fist and bonking him upside the head. "The special Thing that'll help me take over the world! My weapon of terror and oppression! The Thing!!" To punctuate his statement, the midget emperor delivered a sharp kick to Shao's behind, ignoring the fact that he had to move closer so his short little leg could reach.

Rubbing his bottom, the slow-witted underling nodded in comprehension. "Oh, yeah! The Thing! I remember now!"

"I'm surrounded by morons!" the blue gremlin grumbled to himself, sitting back down in his seat. "Just ready the Thing, already! And you better not fail me like you did last time, or else..." Feeling that he was terrifying enough simply implying a threat, Emperor Pilaf allowed the sentence to trail off in what he thought was a menacing tone.

"Yes, sire!" Complying with his ruler's wishes, Agent Shao pulled the capsule that contained the Thing from his pocket and depressed the button before tossing it into his lap, where it decapsulized with a puff of smoke. The smoke quickly dissipated, leaving behind a high tech looking tube that was as long as Pilaf was tall, and about six inches in diameter. Odd looking rods and switches poked out up and down the length of the silvery contraption, along with two handles attached perpendicular to the tube casing and parallel to each other. There was also an inch thick manual that appeared with the Thing, but Shao ignored it. Everyone knows that manuals are completely useless as anything other than fuel for a campfire. Instead, he started flipping switches and turning dials, tapping on a little keypad set into the side of the tube, until at last he sat back with a look of smug satisfaction on his furry face. Opening a portal in the side of the jet, he shoved half of the tube outside and, holding onto the handles with both paws, he peered through the weapon's sighting mechanism, making a few last-minute adjustments as he did so. Finally, he looked up at the short blue emperor and happily announced, "The Thing is ready, your majesty!"

"Excellent!" Pilaf cackled, rubbing his hands together gleefully. "If this works, I may even forgive the both of you for botching things when I sent you after that dragonball." Tugging his hat into a more 'imperious' position, the childish emperor stood up in his seat to give him a bit of added height and authority. "Agent Shao, as soon as we are within range, you are to fire the Thing at that house!" he commanded. "Agent Mai, you will tell Agent Shao when we are close enough to launch our assault!"

"Yes, sire!" the two agents answered in unison.

After a few more seconds of flying, the capsule house growing steadily larger, the black haired woman in the pilot's seat spoke up. "Agent Shao, we will be entering firing range in ten seconds. Nine... eight... seven..." Mai continued to count down as her partner focused the targeting system of the Thing on the capsule house below. "Five... four... three..."

"Yes! YES!! Nyahahaha!!! Soon, I shall be ruler of the world! No one will be able to stop me! Not even that monkey boy and his friends!" Pilaf was now dancing around in a place, trying not to fall of his chair, then suddenly dashed back to the window to see the fateful moment.

"Two... one..."

Bardock continued to stare at Vegeta's back, his lips tightening with dawning revulsion as the child continued to wait for a blow to fall. Again, his eyes were drawn to the one scar that stood out in stark relief, and he suddenly found that his hand had unconsciously reached out to touch it. It did not slip past his notice that every muscle in the young prince's back tensed up upon contact, but other than that Vegeta made no move.

"Is that how you got this?" Bardock asked quietly, not betraying the inner turmoil he was in. He had come here to ask the boy for his side of the story, and to ask a question or two in regards to the incident, then decide from there what he would do about the whole matter. He had not expected to confront the harsh realities of Vegeta's upbringing, had not even known of the existence of this dark history. The anger that had been rekindled in his heart upon seeing the boy was quickly crumbling under this new discovery, replaced instead by a pang of sympathy. No Saiyan's childhood was easy or pain-free, with physical punishment being the preferred means of discipline, but from the evidence of his eyes and Vegeta's behavior, it sounded like the prince had had it harder than most.

"I... insulted the king in front of one of Frieza's lackeys," Vegeta replied stiffly, obviously not wanting to talk about it. "We were on a ship with malfunctioning regen tanks." As though that was explanation enough, the ten year old shut his mouth and left it at that. Not that Vegeta needed to elaborate; Bardock could well imagine the rest of the story.

Allowing his hand to drop away, the older warrior hesitated for a moment, uncertain as to how he should respond. Lifting the hand again, fully intending to place it on Vegeta's shoulder, he started to say, "Vegeta, I..."

But neither action was completed as the air suddenly filled with buzzing energy, lifting the hairs off the back of Bardock's neck and filling his ears with a reverberating hum. In less than a second, the electricity in the air had increased to an almost painful intensity, and the hum was now an incessant whine. And then everything went black.

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