He awoke quite suddenly, sitting up and letting out a little shout. The blankets fell off his torso and he clenched them tightly with his fists, pupils tiny, eyes wide, sweat dripping from his chin and saturating the cloth of the blanket. His quick, sharp breathing pierced the quiet of the room.
The one next to him sat up, too. "Vegeta? What's wrong?" she asked, almost immediately awake. Utter fear saturated thier bond, and instinctively wrapped her arms around him. Through his lose nightshirt, she could hear his rapidly beating heart.
Finally, he choked, "Nothing, woman, go back to sleep."
Bulma's attidute changed at the drop of a hat. "No, Vegeta. This is the third time this week that you've woken up like this, and this time I am NOT going to let you tell me to go back to sleep!" She frowned at him in frustration, a little V-line forming between her eyebrows. Vegeta looked at her in mild suprise, but then scoffed.
"...You wouldn't understand."
"Like hell!" she shot back. Vegeta's eyebrows rose once again in suprise, and Bulma plunged on. "Wether you like it or not, Vegeta, I care about you. We have a five-year-old son sleeping down the hall. You are a big part of my life, mister, and I will not... I won't..." She stopped, sighed, then went on, "I know I may not be able to understand, but I could try. But I can't even try if you don't give me a chance! So you either tell me or you'll be sleeping in the guest room, maybe that way you won't wake me up anymore!" Her tone, by the time she was finished, was angry, and growing more so. So to prevent waking up said five-year-old, she closed her mouth, deciding to simply glare at the Saiya-jin Prince.
Vegeta, in return, looked quite suprised, but then his expression grew more serious, and he looked away, so Bulma was glaring at the back of his head. "Fine, woman. You really want to know?"
She nodded, though he couldn't see it. "Please. I promise I'll try to understand."
A snort, then a deep breath. Inhale, exhale, he told himself. "It's... Frieza. Even after he's gone I have nightmares about him. Him and the Ginyu. They used to beat me up, once a week, until I was a milimeter from death. Then I would heal for a week, and they'de beat me again. You see, a Saiya-jin grows stronger after having been beaten and then healed. So they would grab my tail, or make me fight with weights tied to it, that way I would... Outgrow that weakness." He smirked a little, and shook his head. "And that's not even the worst."
He stopped for a while, and Bulma glanced at the clock. Two A.M. She was only ever up this late if she was working on a big project. A corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk. 'Vegeta kind of is a project,' she realised. But then the force of what her mate had been through, his grief and weariness, slipped through thier bond, and she grew solemn. "Go on, Vegeta," she muttered, quietly, as if afraid to shatter the mood.
It took him a minute, but then he finally continued. "They used to put me in with other prisoners. They had me make friends. Back when I was maybe five or so. Before I... Became what I am now." Bulma raised an eyebrow. Vegeta smirked again, but his eyes showed the irony in them. "You see, they had me develop emotional attachments. So that I would rely on someone other than myself. Then after maybe half an Earth year or so, they'de bring us both, me and the other, into a room with Frieza himself. And then... And then he would kill them. Right before my eyes. Rip them from limb to limb." He heard her take a sharp breath. "I made five friends, and lost five friends, this way. And then, when they gave me the sixth, I learned my lesson. Frieza always used to say that emotional attachments would only become a weakness. So... I stopped making them." He paused, and sighed deeply. "Until now, that is."
There was silence for a while. Downstairs, the timed dishwasher turned on. Then Bulma ventured a comment. "It's not so bad, is it? Having friends and loved ones."
"It was never the friendship I dispised. Just the loss. The weakness of charecter. Frieza hated weakness, you know. And all I ever wanted to do as a child was please him. But when I realised that was impossible, I started to lose my respect for him. And then I disliked him. And then, I downright wanted him dead."
She nodded once, still looking solmn. Vegeta looked back at her for the first time. "Do you know what I did when I heard my father had been killed by Frieza?" Bulma shook her head, slowly, not taking her eyes from his. "I asked the messanger if he had put up a good fight. When he responded that he had been killed in two hits, I called him a weakling. My own father. The man I had looked up to until the age of five. But only until the age of five, because then I was handed over to Frieza, and I was told to look up to him. So I did."
Turning back to Bulma, he smirked once more. "You happy now, woman?"
"Very. I'm happy that you're here and I'm happy that you are with me. I'm happy you survived all that and still gave a weakling like me a chance. I'm happy for our son and stupid little insult contests." She reached out a hand and ran it down his cheek, smiling, blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "Hell, I'm even happy that you call me 'woman,' even though I'de be happier if you called me Bulma." Vegeta grinned at this, as if to say, 'Fat chance.' "Vegeta, I'm sorry that you went through all that, I truely am, but I can't help you if you don't tell me these things. I love you and I want to help you carry these burdens of your past. Do you understand, Vegeta?"
"Yes. Yes, I think I do." And he smiled again, but this time it was genuine, a real, true smile, and the difference it made on his whole demeanor was astounding. Gently, he wrapped his strong arms around her and pulled her too him, then layed down with her, so her face was burried in his chest. He nuzzled his nose in her hair, breathing in its feminine, shamoo-ey scent. "I love you, Bulma," he murmured, drifting off into a much calmer sleep.
"And I love you, Vegeta." She, too, became drawn into sleep, this time bearing some of Vegeta's nightmares.
END
----
How was it? It got a little mushy at the end, which wasn't entirely intentional, but it was kind of a point of the story that Bulma wanted to be important to Mr. Arragant McKillKakarott, you know? Oh yeah, I meant to tell you that if DBZ was Fuzzy Lumkins, he'de be telling me to "GIT OFF MAH PROPERTY!" Which is to say, I don't own DBZ.
And uh, I hate to sound like a sell-out, and at the risk of sounding cocky, please check out my other writings. I get the distinct feeling that no one is reading them.
The one next to him sat up, too. "Vegeta? What's wrong?" she asked, almost immediately awake. Utter fear saturated thier bond, and instinctively wrapped her arms around him. Through his lose nightshirt, she could hear his rapidly beating heart.
Finally, he choked, "Nothing, woman, go back to sleep."
Bulma's attidute changed at the drop of a hat. "No, Vegeta. This is the third time this week that you've woken up like this, and this time I am NOT going to let you tell me to go back to sleep!" She frowned at him in frustration, a little V-line forming between her eyebrows. Vegeta looked at her in mild suprise, but then scoffed.
"...You wouldn't understand."
"Like hell!" she shot back. Vegeta's eyebrows rose once again in suprise, and Bulma plunged on. "Wether you like it or not, Vegeta, I care about you. We have a five-year-old son sleeping down the hall. You are a big part of my life, mister, and I will not... I won't..." She stopped, sighed, then went on, "I know I may not be able to understand, but I could try. But I can't even try if you don't give me a chance! So you either tell me or you'll be sleeping in the guest room, maybe that way you won't wake me up anymore!" Her tone, by the time she was finished, was angry, and growing more so. So to prevent waking up said five-year-old, she closed her mouth, deciding to simply glare at the Saiya-jin Prince.
Vegeta, in return, looked quite suprised, but then his expression grew more serious, and he looked away, so Bulma was glaring at the back of his head. "Fine, woman. You really want to know?"
She nodded, though he couldn't see it. "Please. I promise I'll try to understand."
A snort, then a deep breath. Inhale, exhale, he told himself. "It's... Frieza. Even after he's gone I have nightmares about him. Him and the Ginyu. They used to beat me up, once a week, until I was a milimeter from death. Then I would heal for a week, and they'de beat me again. You see, a Saiya-jin grows stronger after having been beaten and then healed. So they would grab my tail, or make me fight with weights tied to it, that way I would... Outgrow that weakness." He smirked a little, and shook his head. "And that's not even the worst."
He stopped for a while, and Bulma glanced at the clock. Two A.M. She was only ever up this late if she was working on a big project. A corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk. 'Vegeta kind of is a project,' she realised. But then the force of what her mate had been through, his grief and weariness, slipped through thier bond, and she grew solemn. "Go on, Vegeta," she muttered, quietly, as if afraid to shatter the mood.
It took him a minute, but then he finally continued. "They used to put me in with other prisoners. They had me make friends. Back when I was maybe five or so. Before I... Became what I am now." Bulma raised an eyebrow. Vegeta smirked again, but his eyes showed the irony in them. "You see, they had me develop emotional attachments. So that I would rely on someone other than myself. Then after maybe half an Earth year or so, they'de bring us both, me and the other, into a room with Frieza himself. And then... And then he would kill them. Right before my eyes. Rip them from limb to limb." He heard her take a sharp breath. "I made five friends, and lost five friends, this way. And then, when they gave me the sixth, I learned my lesson. Frieza always used to say that emotional attachments would only become a weakness. So... I stopped making them." He paused, and sighed deeply. "Until now, that is."
There was silence for a while. Downstairs, the timed dishwasher turned on. Then Bulma ventured a comment. "It's not so bad, is it? Having friends and loved ones."
"It was never the friendship I dispised. Just the loss. The weakness of charecter. Frieza hated weakness, you know. And all I ever wanted to do as a child was please him. But when I realised that was impossible, I started to lose my respect for him. And then I disliked him. And then, I downright wanted him dead."
She nodded once, still looking solmn. Vegeta looked back at her for the first time. "Do you know what I did when I heard my father had been killed by Frieza?" Bulma shook her head, slowly, not taking her eyes from his. "I asked the messanger if he had put up a good fight. When he responded that he had been killed in two hits, I called him a weakling. My own father. The man I had looked up to until the age of five. But only until the age of five, because then I was handed over to Frieza, and I was told to look up to him. So I did."
Turning back to Bulma, he smirked once more. "You happy now, woman?"
"Very. I'm happy that you're here and I'm happy that you are with me. I'm happy you survived all that and still gave a weakling like me a chance. I'm happy for our son and stupid little insult contests." She reached out a hand and ran it down his cheek, smiling, blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "Hell, I'm even happy that you call me 'woman,' even though I'de be happier if you called me Bulma." Vegeta grinned at this, as if to say, 'Fat chance.' "Vegeta, I'm sorry that you went through all that, I truely am, but I can't help you if you don't tell me these things. I love you and I want to help you carry these burdens of your past. Do you understand, Vegeta?"
"Yes. Yes, I think I do." And he smiled again, but this time it was genuine, a real, true smile, and the difference it made on his whole demeanor was astounding. Gently, he wrapped his strong arms around her and pulled her too him, then layed down with her, so her face was burried in his chest. He nuzzled his nose in her hair, breathing in its feminine, shamoo-ey scent. "I love you, Bulma," he murmured, drifting off into a much calmer sleep.
"And I love you, Vegeta." She, too, became drawn into sleep, this time bearing some of Vegeta's nightmares.
END
----
How was it? It got a little mushy at the end, which wasn't entirely intentional, but it was kind of a point of the story that Bulma wanted to be important to Mr. Arragant McKillKakarott, you know? Oh yeah, I meant to tell you that if DBZ was Fuzzy Lumkins, he'de be telling me to "GIT OFF MAH PROPERTY!" Which is to say, I don't own DBZ.
And uh, I hate to sound like a sell-out, and at the risk of sounding cocky, please check out my other writings. I get the distinct feeling that no one is reading them.