Disclaimer: I don't own anything! Nothing, I tell you! Well, except for
some manga, and videos, and stuff. . .
A/N: Wahh! I'm starting too many stories! Total A/U here! This is set in the (almost) Christian versions of heaven and hell, but there is no God, and no Devil, either. The angels and demons are pretty much on their own. I'm giving the girls fighting powers, so there! B/V, G/CC, but not yet. Everyone uses ki, but not really to fly with, just to throw and make them stronger and faster.
Chapter 1
The battle was over. Hell's forces had been driven back, for the time being, and an eerie silence had descended on the battlefield. Bloody and victorious, the angel Bulma dispatched her last opponent and looked around. The plain was littered with the dead and the dying, but by now she was used to such things, although they still made her queasy if she let herself look too closely. This was her third battle, and had gone pretty much like the other two as far as she could tell, but as the post-battle quiet fell she had a sense that something --no, someone, was missing. Two someones, in fact.
Son Goku, Grand General of the Army of Heaven, and Vegeta, Lord High Commander of the forces of Hell, eldest (and only) son of the Lord of Hells, were nowhere to be seen. At the beginning of the fight, they had gone straight for each other's throats, as was their custom. There was a long standing, bitter rivalry between them, at least according to common gossip, but Bulma had caught a glimpse of Goku's face as he dove towards his opponent during her second battle. He had not looked bitter, or even angry. He had been smiling, as if in anticipation of the challenge.
However, Goku always returned at the end of the battle, usually cut, burned, and dirty, looking determined yet unwilling to discuss what had transpired. This time, he was nowhere to be seen, and there was no sign of Vegeta either. Bulma, who had been quite the explorer as a teenager, had known Son Goku since he was ten and she was fourteen, and she was very attached to the spiky-haired angel in a platonic, sisterly way. She sighed, picked up her emergency pack and flew off in the direction she had last seen the two rivals in the hopes that she could find her oldest friend before anything too serious happened to him. He did tend to be. . .a bit hard-headed. Reckless, even. And she wasn't going to take the chance that his absence had a perfectly harmless reason.
* * *
"Give up!" Goku shouted, as he flung yet another ki blast at his opponent.
"Never! I'll never surrender to a third-class traitor like you, Kakarotto!" Vegeta spat, as he dodged the blast and came in with a hard kick to Goku's stomach. They had been at it for three hours or so, and both were battered, slashed, and totally unaware that the battle between their separate armies had ended. In their present engrossed state, it probably would not have mattered if they had known. Goku caught himself in midair and flung a quick, barely charged bolt at Vegeta, to force him back a little. The Demon Prince instinctively parried with his black, bloody sword, and Goku saw his chance. He leapt in, bringing his own bright blade down in a wicked overhand chop which would probably have crushed in Vegeta's shoulder if it had connected properly. At the last moment, Vegeta leapt back, but not far enough. The sword drew a deep gash down Vegeta's chest and across his stomach.
"Aaurgh!!" Vegeta cut off his cry of surprise and pain as soon as he could. He would not give Goku the satisfaction of knowing how much that had hurt him!
But Goku had learned long ago never to let go of an advantage when fighting Vegeta, and he pressed forward, knocking Vegeta's weapon from his suddenly slack grip, and pressing the bloodied tip of his own blade against the demon's throat.
"Give up!" Goku demanded, or more accurately, pleaded. "You'll die of that wound if it's untreated, and you can't possibly make it back to the Hells from here!"
"I'd rather die than accept help from you, Kakarotto!" Vegeta growled, his vision tinged slightly red from pain and battle rage.
"I'm not Kakarotto!" Goku half-growled, his face growing even more stern.
"You're wrong," Vegeta told him, snarling. "You will always be Kakarotto, no matter how much you deny it." The demon gathered the last dregs of his rapidly fading strength and fired a blast into Goku's face at point-blank range. The angel rocked backwards, from surprise more than the weak impact, but it was enough. Vegeta fled into the sky, and vanished quickly in the gloom. Goku coughed as the smoke cleared and stared after him. The demon had been moving at barely half his normal speed, and the angel knew he should pursue him, but. . .
"I'm so tired," he murmured to himself, as his adrenaline ebbed along with his battle rage and more than a little blood. "So. . .tired. . ." The angel's eyes rolled back, his knees gave way, and he crumpled. He didn't even feel himself hit the rocky ground.
* * *
Bulma flew onward. She had bandaged the minor wounds she had incurred in combat before starting, but for the best part of an hour she had been searching for Goku. So far, however, there was no sign of him. She peered down through the mist, watching the ground carefully, but she still almost missed the darker shape huddled on the dark ground. It was certainly no angel, for they glowed with an inner light unless they were dead or very near, but it was definitely something worth investigating. Bulma made up her mind and descended.
As she landed, she got her first good look at the figure and stifled a gasp. It was the Demon Prince himself, Vegeta! At her slight sound of surprise, he stirred, groaned, and opened his eyes. He turned his head to glare at her.
"Come to gloat, have you, angel?" he growled. "Or maybe to try and finish me?" A long, deep gash across his torso was bleeding freely, and another on his upper right leg also leaked the precious red liquid. From the looks of things, he had lost a lot of blood, and she could feel his energy ebbing lower with every breath he took despite his fierce words and forbidding scowl. A mortal would have already been dead, but demons -and angels- were made of tougher stuff. Bulma considered the situation. As an angel of the light, it was her duty to slay demons, and it would be merciful to give the deeply wounded demon prince a swift death. Deciding, she stepped forwards.
"I didn't come here for you, but now that I am here, it's my duty to give you a quick death."
The demon started to snort, and winced instead. "If you can," he growled. "I'm not done yet."
Bulma moved quickly, and in the blink of an eye was crouched over the demon, who brought up his uninjured leg and kicked her up and off. She fell heavily on her back, impressed and winded. Even severely weakened and probably dying, Vegeta still had some fight in him. However, she could tell as she approached again that that kick had probably been the last of it. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing shallowly. As she crouched over him again, he shot her a hate-filled, blacker than ebony glare but did not manage to gather enough strength to do anything as she pressed the razor edge of her sword against his throat.
"Damn you," he whispered hoarsely. "Damn you!"
"You're too weak to damn anyone, now," Bulma retorted, but her only reply was the sound of Vegeta's labored breathing. He had finally surrendered to pain and blood loss, and passed out. Bulma took a deep breath, started to pull her sword across his throat, and stopped. She shook her head, tried again, and stopped again. Finally she stood up, slamming her sword angrily into its sheath.
"What is wrong with me?!" she demanded of the sky. "I've killed demons before, why is this one any different?" There was no reply. Bulma growled in disgust, sounding very much like Vegeta. After a moment, she started to walk away, hesitated, and glanced back at the Demon Prince. If his bleeding wasn't staunched, he would only hold on for another hour, or a little more depending on how tenacious he was. She should give him a quick death, she should, but. . .he was so. . .
The angel found herself at Vegeta's side again. You can't possibly mean to do this! the rational part of her cried, as she removed her emergency pack and unCapped several rolls of bandages. Bulma ripped off a few lengths, wadded them up, and pressed them against the ugly wound on Vegeta's torso. The cloths were quickly soaked with blood, but she did not exchange them. The important thing was to apply consistent pressure, in order to stop the steady, though sluggish, pour of red.
* * *
Ten minutes later, Bulma's hands were soaked with blood and her arms were red-spattered halfway to the elbow, but Vegeta's wound had finally stopped bleeding, he was still alive, and his energy level seemed to have stabilized. There had been a nasty moment when it had dropped almost to zero, but it steadied as the outpour of blood was staunched. Bulma waited a moment, to make sure he really had stopped bleeding, then applied some fresh bandages and secured them. She also bandaged the gash on his leg, and then sat back and inspected him. The tiny, logical bit of her brain that remained told her that she could, and should, leave him here, but the rest of her sat on it. She was going to carry this rescue through properly, now that she had begun.
"Where can I take you?" she asked the unconscious Demon Prince, not expecting or receiving a reply. "If we go to the heavens, they'll kill you, and all my work will have been wasted. But, if we go to the Hells, they'll kill me, which would be even worse. Let's see. . ."
Bulma considered, and sure enough, she came up with an idea. "I know!" she exclaimed. "The Caves of Omhadesh! No one claims them, they're only about a mile away, and I used to play there when I was a kid! Perfect! You know," she remarked to Vegeta as she bent over him, "that's where I met Son-kun. Oomph!"
The last was an exhalation of air as she attempted to lift Vegeta. "Man, you're heavy! Guess it's all that muscle." She rearranged her grip and succeeded in getting him off the ground. She pushed her power level up as high as she could, making Vegeta seem marginally lighter. She was no Son Goku, but all angels and most demons learned to manipulate their ki to a certain extent. With a grunt of effort, she lifted off and flew towards the caves.
* * *
Vegeta became aware of himself slowly, and he kept his eyes closed. It was always a good idea to fake unconsciousness in an unknown situation, and Vegeta had no idea where he was. The last thing he remembered was cursing at a blue-haired angel who had been about to kill him, but if this was so, then why was he still alive? Oh, well. The Demon Prince dismissed this for now and let his awareness spread to the outlying parts of his body. There was a fiery line of pain across his chest and stomach and another across his right leg, both courtesy of Goku, as well as a wide variety of other, smaller pains which were probably bruises and burns. As nothing had disturbed him during his assessment and he was getting no closer to determining his location, Vegeta took a risk and opened his eyes.
He seemed to be in a cave. If he strained his ears, he could hear running water somewhere nearby. Everything seemed to be dark and quiet, except.Vegeta turned his head, trying to more accurately identify the small, regular sound, and saw its source. The angel he remembered as having been about to slay him was curled up in a folding bed across the room (which was really a cave), and the sound he had heard was her breathing. He examined her as she slept. She was fairly small and slim, with long blue hair and the normal glow and white wings. Vegeta flexed his own wings and winced. Either he had pulled something, or he had snapped one of the smaller bones. But then, his last landing hadn't been too graceful. . .in fact, it had been more of a crash than an actual landing.
Which reminded him, why was he still alive? Or, more accurately, why had the angel rescued him? If she had gone through with her promise to kill him, or even if she had simply left him, he would not have reawakened. But why had she done it? Well, there was only one way to find out, and that was to ask the angel herself. Normally, having come to this decision, he would have marched over, kicked her awake, and demanded an explanation. But at the moment, he still felt exhausted, and as weak as a new-born kitten. He noticed that the angel hadn't removed his skin-tight leggings or gauntlets- possibly because she was too shy, but more probably because she simply didn't realize that they were clothes and not merely a part of him. Many angels seemed inclined to draw that conclusion, possibly because they would never dream of wearing such tight clothing.
Vegeta shook his head to clear it of his wandering thoughts, and decided that he needed a bath, since he was still mostly coated with dirt and dried blood. He could probably find the source of the water from its sound, but was he strong enough to make it there? He decided to find out, and began to sit up. The demon checked himself after a movement of only a few inches, breath hissing between his teeth as his newest wound pulled painfully. Vegeta recognized the signs, and knew that if he attempted to move at anything more than a crawl, the slash would re-open. He growled under his breath in annoyance, and slid carefully off the folding bed where he had been placed, trying to bend as little as possible.
At last, he stood, and had to catch himself on the bed as his knees nearly buckled. He was weaker than he had thought! Behind him, he heard someone yawn, and turned. The angel was awake.
* * *
Bulma awoke slowly, luxuriously, and soundlessly. Her eyes opened, and immediately flicked to the rescued Demon Prince. He was awake, and just sliding out of bed. She saw his face go white with pain, but he didn't cry out and kept moving until he was standing up, where he promptly had to catch himself on the edge of the bed as his knees gave. She decided it was time to let him know that she was awake and gave a yawn as she stretched. He whirled, or tried to, and nearly fell, his face going even whiter as the wound pulled again.
"Where do you think you're going?" she asked him.
He glared at her. "To wash, unless it offends your tender sensibilities?"
"Sarcastic, aren't we?" she replied. "Go ahead. That way I won't have to smell you. Here, catch!" Bulma tossed him a roll of bandages and a towel, which he caught easily, wincing.
Bulma heard him growl, "Stupid Kakarotto," under his breath as he stalked into the next cave (which had a waterfall), and wondered who, or what, a Kakarotto was.
* * *
Walking was a painful effort, but Vegeta didn't allow himself to falter until he was out of the angel's field of vision, wherepon he promptly leaned against the nearest wall and gasped. The wound on his stomach was reminding him painfully to be careful, and his strength had been depleted to such an extent that he would be lucky to make it back to the other cave without collapsing. In the meantime he moved slowly towards the small waterfall (about six feet high) and tested it by thrusting his hand under the flow of water. It was tepid, surprisingly, but if he stood under it the force of the water's fall would probably reopen his wound. So, instead, he moved towards the small stream, unwound the bandage from around his thigh, and stripped. Vegeta began, very slowly and carefully, to wash.
* * *
Meanwhile, in another part of the Otherlands, a squad of demons was on patrol. There were ten of them, spread over the landscape in a ragged line with each scout just in sight of the ones to the left and right of them. Their leader, in the center and slightly ahead of the others, was a big, powerful demon with thick, spiky hair tied at the base of his neck and falling down to his knees. He lifted his head and sniffed the air. Raditz had an exceptionally keen sense of smell, even for a demon, but whatever he was smelling was several hours old, and faint, just on the edge of scenting. Just as he began to recognize it, a member of his squad shouted.
"Captain Raditz, I've found an angel!"
Raditz lost the scent, cursed under his breath, and headed toward the scout, who was bent over a faintly glowing shape. Still alive, then, Raditz thought, and then he saw who the angel was. An awful sinking sensation hit in the pit of his stomach as he recognized the battered form on the ground in front of him. Raditz was one of the few demons who knew the true story of Goku's betrayal, and Goku was lucky that this was so. A demon who recognized him but was not in the 'know' would probably have killed him on sight, but Raditz would not. No, he wouldn't kill him, but what he would do would probably turn out far worse for the angel.
"Bring him with us," Raditz ordered. "King Vegeta will want to question him." And as he watched two of his squad sling the angel's arms over their shoulders and take off, and as he flew after them, Goku's brother ordered his heart to stop reminding him that he was betraying his own flesh and blood.
* * *
In the formless lands beyond Chaos, something stirred which had never been intended to exist. The Factors were nearly right for it to awake again, but not yet. Not quite yet. The something drifted back into sleep, a restless sleep studded with dreams of blood and the emptiness which is worse, even, then the dark.
A/N: Wahh! I'm starting too many stories! Total A/U here! This is set in the (almost) Christian versions of heaven and hell, but there is no God, and no Devil, either. The angels and demons are pretty much on their own. I'm giving the girls fighting powers, so there! B/V, G/CC, but not yet. Everyone uses ki, but not really to fly with, just to throw and make them stronger and faster.
Chapter 1
The battle was over. Hell's forces had been driven back, for the time being, and an eerie silence had descended on the battlefield. Bloody and victorious, the angel Bulma dispatched her last opponent and looked around. The plain was littered with the dead and the dying, but by now she was used to such things, although they still made her queasy if she let herself look too closely. This was her third battle, and had gone pretty much like the other two as far as she could tell, but as the post-battle quiet fell she had a sense that something --no, someone, was missing. Two someones, in fact.
Son Goku, Grand General of the Army of Heaven, and Vegeta, Lord High Commander of the forces of Hell, eldest (and only) son of the Lord of Hells, were nowhere to be seen. At the beginning of the fight, they had gone straight for each other's throats, as was their custom. There was a long standing, bitter rivalry between them, at least according to common gossip, but Bulma had caught a glimpse of Goku's face as he dove towards his opponent during her second battle. He had not looked bitter, or even angry. He had been smiling, as if in anticipation of the challenge.
However, Goku always returned at the end of the battle, usually cut, burned, and dirty, looking determined yet unwilling to discuss what had transpired. This time, he was nowhere to be seen, and there was no sign of Vegeta either. Bulma, who had been quite the explorer as a teenager, had known Son Goku since he was ten and she was fourteen, and she was very attached to the spiky-haired angel in a platonic, sisterly way. She sighed, picked up her emergency pack and flew off in the direction she had last seen the two rivals in the hopes that she could find her oldest friend before anything too serious happened to him. He did tend to be. . .a bit hard-headed. Reckless, even. And she wasn't going to take the chance that his absence had a perfectly harmless reason.
* * *
"Give up!" Goku shouted, as he flung yet another ki blast at his opponent.
"Never! I'll never surrender to a third-class traitor like you, Kakarotto!" Vegeta spat, as he dodged the blast and came in with a hard kick to Goku's stomach. They had been at it for three hours or so, and both were battered, slashed, and totally unaware that the battle between their separate armies had ended. In their present engrossed state, it probably would not have mattered if they had known. Goku caught himself in midair and flung a quick, barely charged bolt at Vegeta, to force him back a little. The Demon Prince instinctively parried with his black, bloody sword, and Goku saw his chance. He leapt in, bringing his own bright blade down in a wicked overhand chop which would probably have crushed in Vegeta's shoulder if it had connected properly. At the last moment, Vegeta leapt back, but not far enough. The sword drew a deep gash down Vegeta's chest and across his stomach.
"Aaurgh!!" Vegeta cut off his cry of surprise and pain as soon as he could. He would not give Goku the satisfaction of knowing how much that had hurt him!
But Goku had learned long ago never to let go of an advantage when fighting Vegeta, and he pressed forward, knocking Vegeta's weapon from his suddenly slack grip, and pressing the bloodied tip of his own blade against the demon's throat.
"Give up!" Goku demanded, or more accurately, pleaded. "You'll die of that wound if it's untreated, and you can't possibly make it back to the Hells from here!"
"I'd rather die than accept help from you, Kakarotto!" Vegeta growled, his vision tinged slightly red from pain and battle rage.
"I'm not Kakarotto!" Goku half-growled, his face growing even more stern.
"You're wrong," Vegeta told him, snarling. "You will always be Kakarotto, no matter how much you deny it." The demon gathered the last dregs of his rapidly fading strength and fired a blast into Goku's face at point-blank range. The angel rocked backwards, from surprise more than the weak impact, but it was enough. Vegeta fled into the sky, and vanished quickly in the gloom. Goku coughed as the smoke cleared and stared after him. The demon had been moving at barely half his normal speed, and the angel knew he should pursue him, but. . .
"I'm so tired," he murmured to himself, as his adrenaline ebbed along with his battle rage and more than a little blood. "So. . .tired. . ." The angel's eyes rolled back, his knees gave way, and he crumpled. He didn't even feel himself hit the rocky ground.
* * *
Bulma flew onward. She had bandaged the minor wounds she had incurred in combat before starting, but for the best part of an hour she had been searching for Goku. So far, however, there was no sign of him. She peered down through the mist, watching the ground carefully, but she still almost missed the darker shape huddled on the dark ground. It was certainly no angel, for they glowed with an inner light unless they were dead or very near, but it was definitely something worth investigating. Bulma made up her mind and descended.
As she landed, she got her first good look at the figure and stifled a gasp. It was the Demon Prince himself, Vegeta! At her slight sound of surprise, he stirred, groaned, and opened his eyes. He turned his head to glare at her.
"Come to gloat, have you, angel?" he growled. "Or maybe to try and finish me?" A long, deep gash across his torso was bleeding freely, and another on his upper right leg also leaked the precious red liquid. From the looks of things, he had lost a lot of blood, and she could feel his energy ebbing lower with every breath he took despite his fierce words and forbidding scowl. A mortal would have already been dead, but demons -and angels- were made of tougher stuff. Bulma considered the situation. As an angel of the light, it was her duty to slay demons, and it would be merciful to give the deeply wounded demon prince a swift death. Deciding, she stepped forwards.
"I didn't come here for you, but now that I am here, it's my duty to give you a quick death."
The demon started to snort, and winced instead. "If you can," he growled. "I'm not done yet."
Bulma moved quickly, and in the blink of an eye was crouched over the demon, who brought up his uninjured leg and kicked her up and off. She fell heavily on her back, impressed and winded. Even severely weakened and probably dying, Vegeta still had some fight in him. However, she could tell as she approached again that that kick had probably been the last of it. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing shallowly. As she crouched over him again, he shot her a hate-filled, blacker than ebony glare but did not manage to gather enough strength to do anything as she pressed the razor edge of her sword against his throat.
"Damn you," he whispered hoarsely. "Damn you!"
"You're too weak to damn anyone, now," Bulma retorted, but her only reply was the sound of Vegeta's labored breathing. He had finally surrendered to pain and blood loss, and passed out. Bulma took a deep breath, started to pull her sword across his throat, and stopped. She shook her head, tried again, and stopped again. Finally she stood up, slamming her sword angrily into its sheath.
"What is wrong with me?!" she demanded of the sky. "I've killed demons before, why is this one any different?" There was no reply. Bulma growled in disgust, sounding very much like Vegeta. After a moment, she started to walk away, hesitated, and glanced back at the Demon Prince. If his bleeding wasn't staunched, he would only hold on for another hour, or a little more depending on how tenacious he was. She should give him a quick death, she should, but. . .he was so. . .
The angel found herself at Vegeta's side again. You can't possibly mean to do this! the rational part of her cried, as she removed her emergency pack and unCapped several rolls of bandages. Bulma ripped off a few lengths, wadded them up, and pressed them against the ugly wound on Vegeta's torso. The cloths were quickly soaked with blood, but she did not exchange them. The important thing was to apply consistent pressure, in order to stop the steady, though sluggish, pour of red.
* * *
Ten minutes later, Bulma's hands were soaked with blood and her arms were red-spattered halfway to the elbow, but Vegeta's wound had finally stopped bleeding, he was still alive, and his energy level seemed to have stabilized. There had been a nasty moment when it had dropped almost to zero, but it steadied as the outpour of blood was staunched. Bulma waited a moment, to make sure he really had stopped bleeding, then applied some fresh bandages and secured them. She also bandaged the gash on his leg, and then sat back and inspected him. The tiny, logical bit of her brain that remained told her that she could, and should, leave him here, but the rest of her sat on it. She was going to carry this rescue through properly, now that she had begun.
"Where can I take you?" she asked the unconscious Demon Prince, not expecting or receiving a reply. "If we go to the heavens, they'll kill you, and all my work will have been wasted. But, if we go to the Hells, they'll kill me, which would be even worse. Let's see. . ."
Bulma considered, and sure enough, she came up with an idea. "I know!" she exclaimed. "The Caves of Omhadesh! No one claims them, they're only about a mile away, and I used to play there when I was a kid! Perfect! You know," she remarked to Vegeta as she bent over him, "that's where I met Son-kun. Oomph!"
The last was an exhalation of air as she attempted to lift Vegeta. "Man, you're heavy! Guess it's all that muscle." She rearranged her grip and succeeded in getting him off the ground. She pushed her power level up as high as she could, making Vegeta seem marginally lighter. She was no Son Goku, but all angels and most demons learned to manipulate their ki to a certain extent. With a grunt of effort, she lifted off and flew towards the caves.
* * *
Vegeta became aware of himself slowly, and he kept his eyes closed. It was always a good idea to fake unconsciousness in an unknown situation, and Vegeta had no idea where he was. The last thing he remembered was cursing at a blue-haired angel who had been about to kill him, but if this was so, then why was he still alive? Oh, well. The Demon Prince dismissed this for now and let his awareness spread to the outlying parts of his body. There was a fiery line of pain across his chest and stomach and another across his right leg, both courtesy of Goku, as well as a wide variety of other, smaller pains which were probably bruises and burns. As nothing had disturbed him during his assessment and he was getting no closer to determining his location, Vegeta took a risk and opened his eyes.
He seemed to be in a cave. If he strained his ears, he could hear running water somewhere nearby. Everything seemed to be dark and quiet, except.Vegeta turned his head, trying to more accurately identify the small, regular sound, and saw its source. The angel he remembered as having been about to slay him was curled up in a folding bed across the room (which was really a cave), and the sound he had heard was her breathing. He examined her as she slept. She was fairly small and slim, with long blue hair and the normal glow and white wings. Vegeta flexed his own wings and winced. Either he had pulled something, or he had snapped one of the smaller bones. But then, his last landing hadn't been too graceful. . .in fact, it had been more of a crash than an actual landing.
Which reminded him, why was he still alive? Or, more accurately, why had the angel rescued him? If she had gone through with her promise to kill him, or even if she had simply left him, he would not have reawakened. But why had she done it? Well, there was only one way to find out, and that was to ask the angel herself. Normally, having come to this decision, he would have marched over, kicked her awake, and demanded an explanation. But at the moment, he still felt exhausted, and as weak as a new-born kitten. He noticed that the angel hadn't removed his skin-tight leggings or gauntlets- possibly because she was too shy, but more probably because she simply didn't realize that they were clothes and not merely a part of him. Many angels seemed inclined to draw that conclusion, possibly because they would never dream of wearing such tight clothing.
Vegeta shook his head to clear it of his wandering thoughts, and decided that he needed a bath, since he was still mostly coated with dirt and dried blood. He could probably find the source of the water from its sound, but was he strong enough to make it there? He decided to find out, and began to sit up. The demon checked himself after a movement of only a few inches, breath hissing between his teeth as his newest wound pulled painfully. Vegeta recognized the signs, and knew that if he attempted to move at anything more than a crawl, the slash would re-open. He growled under his breath in annoyance, and slid carefully off the folding bed where he had been placed, trying to bend as little as possible.
At last, he stood, and had to catch himself on the bed as his knees nearly buckled. He was weaker than he had thought! Behind him, he heard someone yawn, and turned. The angel was awake.
* * *
Bulma awoke slowly, luxuriously, and soundlessly. Her eyes opened, and immediately flicked to the rescued Demon Prince. He was awake, and just sliding out of bed. She saw his face go white with pain, but he didn't cry out and kept moving until he was standing up, where he promptly had to catch himself on the edge of the bed as his knees gave. She decided it was time to let him know that she was awake and gave a yawn as she stretched. He whirled, or tried to, and nearly fell, his face going even whiter as the wound pulled again.
"Where do you think you're going?" she asked him.
He glared at her. "To wash, unless it offends your tender sensibilities?"
"Sarcastic, aren't we?" she replied. "Go ahead. That way I won't have to smell you. Here, catch!" Bulma tossed him a roll of bandages and a towel, which he caught easily, wincing.
Bulma heard him growl, "Stupid Kakarotto," under his breath as he stalked into the next cave (which had a waterfall), and wondered who, or what, a Kakarotto was.
* * *
Walking was a painful effort, but Vegeta didn't allow himself to falter until he was out of the angel's field of vision, wherepon he promptly leaned against the nearest wall and gasped. The wound on his stomach was reminding him painfully to be careful, and his strength had been depleted to such an extent that he would be lucky to make it back to the other cave without collapsing. In the meantime he moved slowly towards the small waterfall (about six feet high) and tested it by thrusting his hand under the flow of water. It was tepid, surprisingly, but if he stood under it the force of the water's fall would probably reopen his wound. So, instead, he moved towards the small stream, unwound the bandage from around his thigh, and stripped. Vegeta began, very slowly and carefully, to wash.
* * *
Meanwhile, in another part of the Otherlands, a squad of demons was on patrol. There were ten of them, spread over the landscape in a ragged line with each scout just in sight of the ones to the left and right of them. Their leader, in the center and slightly ahead of the others, was a big, powerful demon with thick, spiky hair tied at the base of his neck and falling down to his knees. He lifted his head and sniffed the air. Raditz had an exceptionally keen sense of smell, even for a demon, but whatever he was smelling was several hours old, and faint, just on the edge of scenting. Just as he began to recognize it, a member of his squad shouted.
"Captain Raditz, I've found an angel!"
Raditz lost the scent, cursed under his breath, and headed toward the scout, who was bent over a faintly glowing shape. Still alive, then, Raditz thought, and then he saw who the angel was. An awful sinking sensation hit in the pit of his stomach as he recognized the battered form on the ground in front of him. Raditz was one of the few demons who knew the true story of Goku's betrayal, and Goku was lucky that this was so. A demon who recognized him but was not in the 'know' would probably have killed him on sight, but Raditz would not. No, he wouldn't kill him, but what he would do would probably turn out far worse for the angel.
"Bring him with us," Raditz ordered. "King Vegeta will want to question him." And as he watched two of his squad sling the angel's arms over their shoulders and take off, and as he flew after them, Goku's brother ordered his heart to stop reminding him that he was betraying his own flesh and blood.
* * *
In the formless lands beyond Chaos, something stirred which had never been intended to exist. The Factors were nearly right for it to awake again, but not yet. Not quite yet. The something drifted back into sleep, a restless sleep studded with dreams of blood and the emptiness which is worse, even, then the dark.