A/N: It's been a long time since I've done something cannon. Okay, it's been a while since I've updated anything at all. X.x Forgiveth the General, please. I've got some major writer's block, so I tried to chip a bit at it with this old idea of mine. Heard the song a looong time ago and though it suited Vege-head. The whole thing takes place during that period of time while Vegeta's looking for Goku during the Garlic Junior Saga. Thoughts on this are much appreciated.
Now, onward!
Summary: A gloved hand caressed the top, running along the once glossy surface. The three chairs remained stationed at the table's sides, still waiting for their owners to return. Two never would, he knew, which was precisely why he would force himself to forget them. But...could he?
Disclaimer: I in no way own any of Akira Toriyama's characters or ideas, nor do I own the song "Empty Chairs at Empty Tables" by Alian Boublil and Claude-Michel Schonberg from Les Miserables.
Ehh...Angelstar, much thanks for the review, and alerting me that this is rather sad. Sadistic General here didn't think about that. I should probably put a warning on this...so...tis rather sad. There, I warned ya. Now get the tissues ready..
Roux: Do you need a tissue for your issue??? MWHAHAHA! runs off
...shakes head That boy...oy...now, onward..
Two Empty Chairs
His sorrowful obsidian eyes scanned the desolate room, this cold steels space where the line between frightful nightmares and good memories blurred. The former mercenary entered the deserted cafeteria with caution. Gore lay scattered about the room; clearly, Frieza's forces had rebelled against one another after their leader's demise. Stale, and warmer than it should have been, the artificial air felt heavy within his lungs. His boots made a soft, metallic "twup" as he made his way around the overturned chairs and tables that once stood sentry, now wounded soldiers in their own right.
"I shouldn't have come," The prince murmured to himself, "This sort of sentimental crap is for fools like Kakarot."
Still, a part of him just had to see it. If he could just get a glimpse of it, maybe he would be able forget them as he had trying been over the last few months. Images of the two danced about before him, wavering in his vision mockingly. He sighed, bowing his head.
There's a grief that can't be spoken
There's a pain goes on and on
Empty chairs at empty tables
Now my friends are dead and gone
It jumped into his vision far before the flame-haired warrior was ready, looking just as welcoming as it had so many years ago. Although huddled in a corner and dirty, their table remained as one of the few standing upright. They had earned it, by right, he remembered with a smirk. It did not seem like much of a victory now, just having a permanent place to sit, but as a teen, their little reserved spot had meant much to the saiyan prince. Swallowing, he padded over the lonely structure, the sole reason he had ventured out to the abandoned military base. One could only travel the galaxies in relentless pursuit for so long without a break.
A gloved hand caressed the top, running along the once glossy surface. The three chairs remained stationed at the table's sides, still waiting for their owners to return. They never would, he knew, which was precisely why he would force himself to forget them. He could barely hear Nappa's booming voice, cracking out some joke, or praising his most recent training efforts. Even fainter were the recollections of fervent whispers of conspiracy, their plans of rebellion and vengeance left hanging in the air.
Here they talked of revolution
Here it was they lit the flame
Here they sang about tomorrow.w
But tomorrow never came…
"Nappa sat here," he mumbled in a pained voice, "To my right, as he always was….my guardian. Pity that Kakarot crippled him…it was a shame to have to destroy such a loyal man, even if he was a brainless brute. Anger flared at the earth-saiyan's actions, and he turned his gaze to the left-hand chair that had once been Raditz's.
"I appreciated your vision, soldier." He acknowledged with a sharp exhale of breath.
But it would seem your faith in your brother's allegiance to us was misplaced. If not for your plan, and him, we might all still be alive."
The long-haired male had been so enthused by the prospect of another hand against Frieza. He had not felt it worth the time to squash the older saiyan's aspirations, dismissing the idea with an approving wave of his hand. Gods, how he wished he would have thought this all out.
"With four of us, Prince, we'll get our vengeance in no time! I can just see it! We'll be free again, your majesty, free!"
Freedom had only been a whispered word among the three of them. Nappa had stared at the young male in disbelief. He had merely chuckled, bemused by Raditz's enthusiasm.
And yet, those had been Raditz's last words to them, words of a dream he would never live to realize.
From a table in the corner,
they could see a world reborn
And they rose with voices ringing
And I can hear them now, the very words that they had sung
Became their last communion on a lonely barricade at dawn
Regret prickled the space-worn male's mind.
"Would things have been different?" He murmured, taking his seat at the head. Folding his hands uneasily, he looked from right to left, almost expecting to see his deceased companions at his sides. He tried to smirk, as if the gesture would bring back old days, but his well-sculpted lips fell into a grimace. He let out a shuddering sigh, acutely and painfully aware of his comrades' absence now. Cringing, he barely summoned the strength to utter his next words aloud.
"Would I be alive with you both?"
He had regarded himself above them so highly, with such condescension, it almost made him gag now. Even the third class clown had allies, whereas, the prince was completely alone.
Wasted, their endeavors to make him strong lay on the bloody floor of the cafeteria, and throughout the base. He growled, recalling the many times Nappa had taken punishments for the things the Prince had done. They had done so many things for him. So determined had been their efforts to make him strong. And yet, their undertakings had been in vain.
"Nappa….Raditz…?" he rasped out in a strained voice. Raditz's heavy breath puffed against his left shoulder, and Nappa's tail brushed his calf.
Oh my friends, my friends forgive me
That I live and you are gone
There's a grief that can't be spoken
There's a pain goes on and on
Giving a strangled cry of surprise, he turned his head to look, nearly giving himself whiplash in the process. His guardian grinned toothily at him, nearly transparent in the artificial air. Overwhelmed, the prince jerked his head in the other direction, where an equally translucent Raditz sat jauntily, giving him a slight wave. He opened his mouth to speak, tears burning behind his eyes. However, no sooner had he drawn the breath to utter his apologies, the apparitions vanished, their laughter resonating through his ears as they abandoned him.
Phantom faces at the window
Phantom shadows on the floor
Empty chairs at empty tables
Where my friends will meet no more
His life did not amount to much now. What had had their determination brought now? How badly was their mistaken faith in him shattered? Failure seemed to tail him as if his own shadow. Uttering a soft sound, the prince lay his chin down on his arms, shivering with a sensation far different than cold. What was the point…what was the god damn point? He no longer knew. Vengeance against Kakarot seemed pointless as this whole stupid excursion out here. Killing Kakarot would not alter things. Slaughtering the fool would never wipe out the isolation that had been dealt to him. Nothing…nothing would bring them back.
Oh my friends, my friends don't ask me
What your sacrifice was for...
His tattered armor suddenly gave him little warmth, and felt as though it would never protect him from this gnawing vulnerability. A spark of ki flickered over his shoulder as the shuddering saiyan royal forced emotions behind a wall to be held at bay, even though not a soul remained on the entire planet. A few soft whimpers escaped his throat. The last of the electrical lights flickered out finally, plunging his small figure into darkness.
"Nappa….Raditz…" His choked voice whispered in the pitch black silence. "I…I…won't forget….I'm…sorry….so…so….sorry…my…my-"
Empty chairs at empty tables
Where my friends will sing no more…
"….my only friends…." The prince laid his head down, a grieving sleep washing over his tired form as his mind began to entertain visions of Kakarot's defeat, and his fallen comrades, brave warriors that would sit at his side only in memories.
A/N: Well...a little depressing, but I'm pleased with how this turned out. Vegeta may have seemed a little OOC, but I do think that Nappa and Raditz's deaths would have at least affected him a bit. You don't just grow up with two people and then forget about them once they're gone...
Reviews, both constructive and praising, are much appreciated ;-). General out!