Take Me Away
Rated PG13
by Moon Faery
crystalmilleniu@bolt.com
http://www.faerysgarden.asiansquare.com
04.17.01
Disclaimer & ANs: Akira Toriyama-sensei owns Dragon Ball and everything
that is even REMOTELY related to it. Get used to it, I don't think it's going up
for sale on EBay anytime soon. Even though I hear that you can buy a soul there,
cheap! 'I'm Already There' is owned by LoneStar.
This was inspired by a song I heard on the radio, 'I'm Already There' by
Lone Star. I used the lyrics that fit, so it's kinda a songfic. It's REALLY
out of order, so don't try to make sense of it. I though the fic deserved its
own title though. ^^V I would recommend that song to anyone who likes sappy,
romantic music. The chorus that gave me the idea is at the bottom! It's VERY
yummies. Oh, and don't ask HOW I got the idea for the epilogue, or how something
like that happened. I REALLY don't want to think about it. And Goku is called
Kakkarot whenever Vegeta is the other focus character.
I wrote this for a friend of mine, P-chan! (AKA: Super Saiyan Alexin)
Happy birthday! ^-^ Sorry it ain't lemony, but I had to write it in class. Oo;;
And the teacher took to looking over my shoulder. Bad thing for writing lemons.
Hehehe... But there is an epilogue. You might not want to read it if you want
mush. It's pure slapstick. Gomen ne. I JUST edited this a TEENY bit, 'cause I
got a review that made an EXCELENT point. The original ending was DEFINATELY
not up to standard. So thankies to mara jade for giving me the extra nudge
to fix it. ^-^V
WARNINGS: YAOI (GxV), HET (TxP minor role), OOC and DEATH APLENTY. It's
kinda sad, but kinda happy too. This is one of my deeper ones I think. Set after
GT, even though I usually like to pretend that THAT atrocity never happened.
And YES, I do have a tiny, itty-bitty TxP thing going, so please forgive me.
Temporary Insanity!
***
Gohan tucked his young daughter into bed, adjusting the blue blankets and
stuffed animals around her. The night-light cast a soft light on the scene,
making it seem ethereal. Outside the window, a partial moon shined sadly down on
them, with the stars dancing to music all their own.
"Daddy?" Pan asked, rubbing her eyes wearily. Her big black eyes glittered
up, catching the luminescent moonlight and throwing it back. "Can we visit
Grampa tomorrow?"
Gohan smiled back and ruffled her hair. "Of course, Panny, we'll visit
Grampa after breakfast."
Pan wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek, little eight-
year-old face split in a huge smile. "Thank you, Daddy." She snuggled back into
her bed and under the covers. With a tiny yawn, her eyes closed.
Gohan watched his baby girl sleep for a few minutes, his cheerful mask
falling away for a few minutes to show the world-weary man he'd become. His eyes
lost their shine, and a few wrinkles showed around his eyes. One or two silver
hairs caught the glow of the night-light. He didn't like to admit it, but he was
getting old.
With a sigh, he left the room. But before he passed through the door, he
paused by a bookshelf. On the top, adorning the hard wood shelf beside stuffed
rabbits and mutilated action figures was a picture. A tall, black-haired man
stood beside Gohan, holding Pan in his arms. His wide, innocent smile was a
mirror image of Gohan's.
Gohan grinned at the image and flicked an imaginary speck of dust off of
it before leaving. The silver of the frame gleamed dully in his wake.
***
He called her on the road
From a lonely coat hotel room
Just to hear her say 'I love you'
One more time
And when he heard the sound
Of the kids laughing in the background
He had to wipe a tear from his eye
Little voice came on the phone
Said 'Daddy will you come home?'
He said the first thing that came to his mind
***
"Come on, Daddy!" Pan called, running ahead. Her orange and blue sweater
standing out against the mushy, half-melted slush and ice. Gohan jogged after
her, deeper into the woods. As they rounded a bent in the trail, a small, neat
little cottage came into view. Out front, a dark haired woman was sweeping the
porch, her hair drawn back into a severe bun and her clothing drab and loose.
The clothes and hair did not disguise what had once been an extraordinary
beauty, or the life that was now all but crushed in her dark, sorrowful eyes.
"Grammy Chichi!" Pan called, running forward and enveloping the woman in a
hug. Chichi looked up from her sweeping, startled at the sudden attack. But she
smiled kindly and squeezed the child back.
"Panny, what are you doing here?" she asked, looking up at her son for an
answer. For a second, something flashed in her eyes, but it was quickly
smothered. It might have once been hope, but was far too dim now to be called
anything more than, 'nebulous.' "Nothing's happened, has it?"
Gohan shook his head and kissed his mother on the cheek. "No, we just came
by to see Grampa," he said, watching regretfully as her face flashed from it's
brief life back into a dull unresponsiveness. Then the memory was pushed back
down and she smiled tentatively.
"He's out back, as usual," she said, forcing out a grin. "You know your
father, he never has time for anything."
Gohan smiled back and let her keep her dreams. "I know; some things just
don't change. We'll see him, and then we'll come inside. Is that okay, Mom?"
Chichi smiled and nodded. "Tell him that it's almost time for lunch,
that'll get him inside. Then we'll all sit down and eat."
Gohan just nodded and took Pan's hand. "We'll be right back, Mom." He led
his daughter around the side of the house.
"Daddy, can I tell Grampa that it's time to eat?" Pan asked, bouncing
along.
"Of course you can, Panny," Gohan answered, making his voice sound light
hearted.
Pan saw something off to the side of the path and pulled out of his grasp.
"Daddy, there he is!" she cried, as though seeing some small wonder for the
first time. She ran over, falling to her knees in the slush by a small
gravestone that overlooked a cliff. By looking down, one could see a small city,
and all the life and bustle that it contained.
"Grampa, we came to visit!" she called, wrapping her arms around the cold
stone. "Grammy says that it's time for lunch, so you're s'posed to come home now
before she smacks you with her fry-pan again."
Gohan stood a few feet back from where Pan knelt by the burial place of
her grandfather and listened to her chatter at him. She talked about everything
from how pretty the house looked to a boy that was teasing her in school. She
even stopped, as though listening to a response.
"Panny, don't get your shoes muddy," Gohan warned quietly as his daughter
almost cart wheeled into a puddle, showing her Grampa what Trunks had taught
her.
"But Daddy!" she protested, big eyes shining with tears. "Grampa wanted to
see!"
The man just shook his head slowly. "Panny, you know that Grampa can't
hear you," he said. "I told you before."
"But he can!" she said. "Grammy says so all the time, and even Uncle
Veggie listens for him!"
Gohan chuckled grimly, but didn't argue. He knew there was no point. If
she wanted to talk to her Grampa, she would. "Alright, Panny, you can show
Grampa your cartwheel, just don't get muddy."
Pan squealed joyfully. "Did'ja hear that, Grampa?" she asked the wind.
"See, this is how you do it!" She proceeded to show her Grampa how to do a
cartwheel. Gohan just watched, the sad smile never leaving his face.
Eventually, Pan ran inside for lunch, leaving Gohan alone with the grave
of his father. Kneeling down, he touched the stone, brushing the snow and melted
ice off of the beveled lettering.
"I'm sorry I hadn't come to visit before, Father," he whispered. "I wish
you were able to see every one now. Pan's growing like a weed; she'll break some
hearts when she grows up. And little Bra and Trunks are following in their
father's footsteps. They might even fight in the Tenkaichi Bodoukai one day.
Vegeta and Bulma finally separated, they figured out that they just didn't get
along like they thought they could; but he's still living with her." He stopped,
watching the sun form patterns on the ground through the budding tree branches.
"You know Vegeta misses you, don't you, Father?" Gohan finally questioned,
looking back to the grave. A small border of well cared for bushes and flowers
danced in the breeze, leaves rustling. "I don't know what you two had, but he's
killing himself waiting for you. He won't eat, or sleep, all because he's
waiting for 'Kakkarot' to come home and spar with him." He brushed his hair out
of his eyes from where the wind had tossed it about. "He loves you, even if he
won't say it. I think he even loves you more than Mother does. We expect her to
come around any day now. Bulma's given up on feeding him, he just won't take
it." Gohan shook his head and watched the changing shadows silently.
A chirping bird broke him out of his reverie. "We all miss you, Father,"
Gohan murmured, tracing the writing on the cold slate. "Don't forget us up
there." Standing, he turned and headed back to the house, leaving only crushed
grass and a few tears on the ground to show he'd even been there.
***
Goku leaned against the tree and watched as his son left his gravesite.
He smiled at the broad back of his first-born child, even though he knew that he
wouldn't see him.
Gohan and Pan were gone, but the spirit of Son Goku still lingered,
warming the shadows, and thinking. His black hair and eyes were starkly black
against the snow, even though they were transparent as mist. Some days, being
dead was incredibly lonely, but then someone came to visit him, and he could do
more than just watch. He could listen, and let them know what he felt, even if
it was only a nebulous feeling in their hearts. But Pan...
One day, he knew she'd have to grow up, and then she wouldn't see him any
more, and wouldn't be able to play with him like she did now. It hurt to have to
be an imaginary friend, but it was the only option he's been given. He missed
his family and friends, Vegeta especially. But he had made his choice, and he
couldn't back out now.
'Vegeta,' he mouthed silently. 'Don't wait for me.'
The wind carried his words, but no mortal ear heard them.
***
I'm already there
Take a look around
I'm the sunshine in your hair
I'm the shadow on the ground
I'm the whisper in the wind
I'm your imaginary friend
And I know I'm in your prayers
Oh I'm already there
***
Vegeta curled up against the window, looking out at the night sky and
remembering. His cheekbones showed sharply against his pale skin, and his ribs
could be counted underneath the loose blue tank top he wore. A plate full of
food sat on a tray beside him, cold and untouched.
"Kakkarot, you bastard, get your butt back here," he half-yelled out the
window. "Come back here and fight like a Saiyan!" He pounded his head once
against the glass, letting it rest there. Tears dripped down his thin cheeks,
landing on wrists scarred by knives and teeth, proof of three years of pain.
He'd been sitting in this same spot for months. Before that it had been
the porch. He only moved when he figured out someplace that would have a better
view of when Kakkarot came back to spar with him again. Even though he knew that
he wasn't coming back, that didn't change his determination to wait for Kakkarot
to come home. That was the only reason he saw for living; to wait for Kakkarot
come back to him.
That woman kept trying to feed him. He didn't want to eat. He wouldn't eat
until Kakkarot came back to fight him! So, the idiot was dead, so what? It had
never stopped him before.
He didn't quite know when he had fallen for the third-class idiot. Maybe
it was somewhere between now and when he had died for Earth. It could have even
happened when they had first met. Even when he had been trying to kill him, he
could never quite bring himself to... Well, if he had ever really gotten the
chance to do so. There was just something in those eyes, a hidden pain that
matched his own. He held a fire that Vegeta had never found anywhere other than
a mirror before he met Kakkarot.
Then the fool had to go off and give up his life for the Earth. He had
given it all up; just to save a bunch of weak beings that wouldn't even remember
his name, much less what he had done for them. It was pathetic, even for him.
But sometimes- just sometimes, when he cut himself deep enough and was
allowed to bleed long enough- he could see him again. He was always just
standing there, smiling like he always had. But the mask was gone, that blank,
innocent mask that Vegeta had always hated, and the smile was a smirk. Life
still shined in his eyes, but it was a kind that had never been there before.
Kakkarot had a will to live, even when he was dead, and it burned through
the mists of reality to shine like a new sun. He wanted to live- to breathe and
fight- but he had done what he though was right, and that showed in every
formless step he took, in the words that Vegeta heard blowing through the tree
branches on a cold night. It had taken Kakkarot's death to show everyone how to
live, how to let their Saiyan side shine through. Even the scholarly Gohan had
started training again, and Goten and Trunks were fast on their way to becoming
stronger than either of their fathers.
Vegeta looked down at the minuscule pocketknife in his hands. It was so
small that he'd been able to fit it in his boot, and that woman Bulma hadn't
taken it away like she had all the others. With something akin to a smile,
Vegeta added another cut to his wrist, pressing so deeply that he was sure they
wouldn't be able to bring him back this time. The blood spilled over his palm,
crimson glitter where the dim moonlight hit it, black in the shadows. Leaning
against the window again and watching as his blood spilled out.
***
Goku watched as Bra walked into the room to find her father nearly passed
out from blood loss. Her scream echoed through the house, bouncing off the walls
and carrying down to the first floor. Bulma came rushing in, first-aide kit in
hand. Between her and Bra, they managed to keep Vegeta from dying while the
ambulance arrived. Goku followed as the white-coated men carried his old
sparring partner out the door.
***
Vegeta opened his eyes. Around him there were several people, and each one
seemed to be yelling something different in urgent, harsh voices. Leaning over
him, a tall, muscular figure with wild black hair was frowning, his golden halo
seeming to shine independently of the shifting lights.
"Kaka..." Vegeta murmured weakly, and tried to lift his hand to touch that
beautiful face. His arm didn't move, and he looked over to see why. There were
several black straps holding him down. With a scowl, he started pulling against
them.
"Stop him!" someone yelled. A body was thrown over his arm, pinning him
down. Vegeta struggled against the weight, but his weakened muscles wouldn't let
him do more than that.
"Vegeta," Goku whispered, his voice echoing slightly. "Stop fighting
them." He touched the Prince's face gently, his fingers like a cold fog against
his skin.
"But I don't want to stay," Vegeta objected, still fighting. "Just let me
go!" He pushed up against the people, managing to dislodge one of them.
"No." Goku pushed him back down tenderly. Vegeta struggled against him,
but he wasn't able to resist the other man. "It's not your time." Some one stuck
a needle in him, injecting him with a tranquilizer.
"And it was yours?" Vegeta asked, collapsing back against the pillows of
the gurney. "Kakkarot, I..."
Goku placed a ghostly finger against Vegeta's lips. "I know, Vegeta," he
murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. "Believe me; I know."
"Kakkarot?" Vegeta asked, his eyelids falling as the drug took over,
weighting down his limbs with leaden exhaustion. "Why..." He trailed off, taking
a deep breath.
"I'm always with you, Vegeta, remember that," Goku murmured softly. Then,
his form wavered and vanished like so much mist.
Bulma and Bra watched as Vegeta cried himself to sleep.
***
And I'll gently kiss your lips
Touch you with my fingertips
So turn out the light
And close your eyes
***
"Vegeta?"
The Saiyan Prince looked around in the blank whiteness that he was
floating aimlessly in. This was not where he expected to go when he died. What
had happened? Where had Hell gone, and why hadn't he gone with it?
"Vegeta." The voice was firmer now, less questioning.
"Where am I?" he called, wincing as it enforced one of the oldest known
clichés ever. "And what do you want with me? I'm already dead, so it can't be
that.
"Vegeta, you're not dead," that soft, insubstantial voice murmured. It
surrounded him, brushing through his hair and stroking his skin.
"I'm not?" Vegeta was unconvinced. "Then what am I doing here, if I'm so
alive?"
A vague figure began to materialize out of the fog. He could only make out
an indistinct outline of it. Vegeta instinctively took a step back, and fell
back into a defensive position.
"No, you're not," Kakkarot said, emerging from the white fog that
surrounded them. He grinned, but there was something more Saiyan in his face
than there ever had been in life. "You have things left to do."
Vegeta abruptly remembered what had happened. How he had slit his wrists,
and what he had seen when his daughter saved him. "Why won't you just let me
die?" Vegeta asked, crossing his arms and glaring. "There's no point in my life
unless you're there too, Kakkarot."
Kakkarot just shook his head. "There is a point, and you won't be allowed
to leave until you do what you have to." He smirked. "That's the only reason I
was allowed to stay on Earth, you know."
Vegeta gritted his teeth and propelled himself closer to the third class
idiot. "You're joking. I don't need a sitter." His fists clenched where they
were pressed tightly to his sides.
"You do, or I wouldn't have to keep stopping you from killing yourself,"
Kakkarot answered, looking straight through Vegeta. "You're the only full-
blooded Saiyan left, you know. You have to protect the people of Earth."
"That's your job."
Kakkarot grinned like his old- living- self. "Yeah, but I can't do it
anymore. That means that it's up to you to do my job."
Vegeta sniffed and glowered darkly. "And if I refuse?"
Kakkarot shrugged. "Who knows? You may end up warming your toes with
Radditz and Freeza, or you could end up with me." He blew a bang out of his
eyes. "Why do you have to be so stubborn?" It was almost a whine.
Vegeta eyed him warily. "And why would I want to end up with a moron like
you?"
Kakkarot smiled smugly and just looked at him mutely. Vegeta squirmed
under that confident stare. Finally, he broke.
"So I love you!" he snarled. "So what? I don't want to protect weakling
humans! Just let me die, and we'll both be happy." Fire burned in his eyes,
proof of the truth of his statement.
So quickly that he wasn't able to follow the movement with his eyes,
Vegeta was encircled in Kakkarot's arms tightly.
"See?" the taller man murmured, nuzzling his neck. "Was that so hard to
say?"
"I don't want to stay here," Vegeta answered, knowing that he was sounding
like a child being asked to wash dishes. "I want to go with you."
"You can't." Kakkarot pulled away and brushed his cheek softly with
calloused hands. "You have to stay here, with everyone. I'll come and get you
when it's time to go. I promise."
Vegeta nodded against his shoulder.
"Vegeta, you know I love you." Kakkarot nipped at the junction of Vegeta's
shoulder and neck, gently running questing fingers down his spine. "I wouldn't do
this to you if I didn't have to."
The Saiyan Prince purred softly at the touch of his love, leaning into
the strong body. "I... I kno... oh..." He trailed off as Kakkarot rubbed the
base of his tail, sending fire racing through his brain.
Kakkarot grinned evilly. "Like that?" He traced a line around the tail,
smoothing the hair down with his other fingers. Vegeta pushed closer, growling
and letting his own hands explore his mate's body. Suddenly, Goku paused.
"What's wrong?" Vegeta asked, his face flushed.
The dead man pulled away and kissed Vegeta's lips softly, chastely. "I
have to go now. I can only stay for so long."
Vegeta gripped him tighter. "Don't go, please." It was the closest the
proud Saiyan prince would ever come to pleading. "I love you."
"Vegeta, I love you too, but I have to. Just remember, I'm always
with you." Kakkarot pulled back and vanished into the mist.
Vegeta woke up in tears.
***
We may be a thousand miles apart
But I'll be with you where ever you are
***
The procession moved down the grassy, flower-lined aisle. On either side,
people wearing black cried. Some reached out to touch the passing coffin, while
others simply wept onto the shoulders of their family members. The coffin was
lowered into the hole that had been dug for it as the priest chanted the last
rights in a monotone. Finally, the ceremony ended, and everyone left, tears in
their eyes. Only close family members and friends stayed to say good-bye
privately.
Goten knelt forlornly beside the grave of his mother, leaning against the
grave as he cried like a lost little boy. Gohan put his arms around his little
brother and led him away, barely holding back the tears himself.
Pan leaned against Trunks, her face buried in his shoulder. He kissed the
top of her head while she cried. Bulma just stood there beside a stoic Vegeta,
her eyes caressing the final resting place of her longtime friend.
"She finally just gave up," Pan wailed. "Why did she have to go?" Trunks
hugged her closer.
"At least she's beside Goku," Bulma whispered, wiping a single tear off of
her cheek.
Vegeta simply clenched a fist and turned his back to the tomb.
In the background, a softly glowing Goku and Chichi vanished silently,
leaving only silence and memories to soothe their loved ones.
***
The bride walked down the aisle, a cloud of white lace and velvet. Her
long black hair was swept up into an intricate braid, and left to form a
waterfall of curls and ringlets over her shoulder, where tiny seed pearls had
been woven into the silken tresses, highlighting the blue roses that had been
plaited into a ringlet that held her veil. There was blue trim to her dress, and
an old orange bandanna peeked out from beneath her veil. Her father escorted her
slowly, crying almost as much as her mother was. At the far end of the blue-
carpeted walkway, the groom fidgeted with his gloves nervously, lavender hair
combed neatly and pulled back into a long ponytail that hung loosely down his
back.
Gohan handed Pan to Trunks, passing a fatherly glare that said, 'Hurt her
and you will die the most painful death I can imagine,' along with his daughter.
Trunks gulped and looked at Pan's offered arm dubiously, as though wondering if
eternal bliss with the woman he loved was worth having a father-in-law. A glare
from Pan, very similar to her father's, made up his mind, and Trunks took Pan's
arm to finish the walk down the aisle.
Among the crowd, Vegeta and Bulma sat next to each other. Vegeta was
glowering, as usual, and Bulma was already crying, even before the priest began
the ceremony. Bra, on Vegeta's other side, was crying almost as much as her
mother, in between sending fierce looks at her best friend for taking away her
big brother.
'Damned women, always getting so emotional. Anyone could see that those
two were bonded. It's about time they became mates. Even though I still don't
see why everyone insisted on this stupid human ceremony. It's pointless; just
let them do what needs to be done, and get it over with. There's no need for all
of this frivolous junk,' Vegeta kept up a mental rant as the wedding progressed
on.
Finally, the priest reached the part that always had everyone holding
their breath. "And if any think that these two should not be joined, speak now,
or forever hold your peace."
Vegeta smirked, and- just for the fun if it- began to raise his hand.
Bulma and Bra, who had been watching for something like this to happen,
immediately clapped his hands down to his sides, even though they knew that they
wouldn't be able to hold him if he really wanted to break loose. Vegeta smirked
and began to flex his arms teasingly, as though trying to escape.
A weight suddenly settled itself on his lap. Vegeta, startled, looked up
to see the hazy form of Kakkarot perched comfortably on his thighs. No one
around him seemed to notice anything unusual.
'Stop that, Vegeta. Let them have their moment,' Kakkarot mentally chided
him, frowning a little. The voice was echoing inside his head. Vegeta grimaced
back, but stopped pretending to try and protest.
'Kakkarot!' he snarled mentally. 'What are you doing here?'
'You think I'd miss my own granddaughter's wedding?' the man in his lap
asked. 'Watch the ceremony, it's almost over.' He turned back to watch the bride
and groom. Vegeta growled under his breath, but also turned to see what was
happening. Bra and Bulma both gave relieved sighs and let go of his arms.
"By the power vested in me," the preacher continued, "I now pronounce you
man and wife. You may kiss the bride." Trunks lean over and pulled Pan's veil
over her head, then tenderly kissed her lips. Bra, Bulma, and every other woman
in the crowd started wailing loudly, while everyone else broke out in cheers.
Kakkarot just sighed, but then got a thunderstruck look on his face.
'Hey, Vegeta?'
'Yes, Kakkarot?'
'When we get married, who's going to wear the dress?'
It was at that exact second that Pan decided to break the schedule up and
threw the bouquet over her head, never removing her lips from Trunks'. The
object of blue roses, water lilies and baby's breath flew through the air,
arching up in an elegant curve. When it came down, it passed directly through
Kakkarot and landed squarely in Vegeta's arms. Vegeta simply looked down at the
bundle, well aware of what the tossing of the bouquet meant. He face faulted,
with Kakkarot's ghostly laughter echoing in his ears.
***
I'm already there
Don't make a sound
I'm the beat of your heart
I'm the moonlight shining down
I'm the whisper in the wind
And I'll be there till the end
Can you feel the love that we share
Oh I'm already there
***
Vegeta sat on the cliff side, looking down at the city. His hair was
silver, and faint lines of age graced his face. Beside him and behind him,
several gravestones stood stark against the setting sun. Fiery reds, purples and
oranges caught the stark stones, making the gold-flaked names stand out. Each
was the tomb of someone he knew: friends, family, even his children. Somehow, he
had outlived them all. There was only one left unfilled, and Vegeta could tell
that it would not remain so for long. He was old, and it was finally time for
him to sleep.
A foot crunching in the autumn leaves made Vegeta turn sharply, even
though he winced as he did so.
Kakkarot looked back at him, arms crossed and a very Saiyan smirk on his
face.
"So you're finally coming back to get me," Vegeta commented, turning
around completely to face the ghost of his love. "It sure took you long enough."
Kakkarot raised his eyebrows and looked around at the trees. "It all
depends. Have you finished what you were supposed to? Or do I have to leave for
another couple of centuries?"
Vegeta laughed harshly and waved a hand at the lively town below. "Look,
they're not all dead, are they? I did what I was supposed to do, not that they
deserved my protection." He slowly climbed to his feet, grimacing in pain as his
hip creaked.
"Not for want of trying to get out of it," Kakkarot grumbled before
reaching down a hand to help Vegeta to his feet. "Are you ready to go yet? It's
almost time."
Vegeta just brushed the offered help aside with a grunt and pushed himself
to his feet. "I'm not that old, you know," he snapped. It came out almost
affectionate. "Yes, I'm ready to go, just as soon as you're ready to take me."
"Is that an offer?" the other Saiyan smirked and then swiftly dodged a
flying rock.
"Pervert!" Vegeta yelled, throwing another rock. It shattered against the
ground, leaving a large ditch. "You sick, twisted-" He was cut off as Kakkarot
wrapped strong arms around him.
"Yours." Kakkarot kissed him tenderly, feeling the flutter of Vegeta's
fragile heart against his temporarily solid chest. It beat faster, near
bursting. Finally, Kakkarot pulled way, leaving Vegeta weak-kneed and gasping
for air.
"Take me home, Kakkarot," Vegeta gasped, leaning against the taller
Saiyan. "I'm so tired... Just take me home." He looked up into the jet eyes that
he had spent centuries missing. Love that he had never had a chance at having in
life shined back at him, even as Kakkarot kissed him again. Vegeta kissed back
deeply, reveling in the play. His body fell away as the old heart finally gave
out. Even as it hit the earth, Vegeta started shining with a light all his own
as he kissed his love back. All the life that he had had in him burst forth, no
longer dimmed by the weight of a body that no longer served its purpose.
They pulled away from each other, and Vegeta turned and looked down at the
still form of himself. It was odd, seeing his body lying there like that. It was
old, wrinkled and weak, worn out and tired. He looked down at his own hands,
then back at the husk of his former self.
"It'll take getting used to," Kakkarot assured him, wrapping his arms
around his soul mate and nuzzling his neck affectionately. Vegeta leaned back
and sighed. A opalescent light gathered around the two lovers, and they faded
out still embracing. Maybe everything does work out for those who love.
***
We may be a thousand miles apart
But I'll be with you where ever you are
I'm already there
Take a look around
I'm the sunshine in your hair
I'm the shadow on the ground
I'm the whisper in the wind
And I'll be there till the end
Can you feel the love that we share
Oh I'm already there
~SONG CHORUS~
I'm already there
Don't make a sound
I'm the beat of your heart
I'm the moonlight shining down
I'm the whisper in the wind
And I'll be there till the end
Can you feel the love that we share
Oh I'm already there
We may be a thousand miles apart
But I'll be with you where ever you are
I'm already there
Take a look around
I'm the sunshine in your hair
I'm the shadow on the ground
I'm the whisper in the wind
And I'll be there till the end
Can you feel the love that we share
Oh I'm already there
Rated PG13
by Moon Faery
crystalmilleniu@bolt.com
http://www.faerysgarden.asiansquare.com
04.17.01
Disclaimer & ANs: Akira Toriyama-sensei owns Dragon Ball and everything
that is even REMOTELY related to it. Get used to it, I don't think it's going up
for sale on EBay anytime soon. Even though I hear that you can buy a soul there,
cheap! 'I'm Already There' is owned by LoneStar.
This was inspired by a song I heard on the radio, 'I'm Already There' by
Lone Star. I used the lyrics that fit, so it's kinda a songfic. It's REALLY
out of order, so don't try to make sense of it. I though the fic deserved its
own title though. ^^V I would recommend that song to anyone who likes sappy,
romantic music. The chorus that gave me the idea is at the bottom! It's VERY
yummies. Oh, and don't ask HOW I got the idea for the epilogue, or how something
like that happened. I REALLY don't want to think about it. And Goku is called
Kakkarot whenever Vegeta is the other focus character.
I wrote this for a friend of mine, P-chan! (AKA: Super Saiyan Alexin)
Happy birthday! ^-^ Sorry it ain't lemony, but I had to write it in class. Oo;;
And the teacher took to looking over my shoulder. Bad thing for writing lemons.
Hehehe... But there is an epilogue. You might not want to read it if you want
mush. It's pure slapstick. Gomen ne. I JUST edited this a TEENY bit, 'cause I
got a review that made an EXCELENT point. The original ending was DEFINATELY
not up to standard. So thankies to mara jade for giving me the extra nudge
to fix it. ^-^V
WARNINGS: YAOI (GxV), HET (TxP minor role), OOC and DEATH APLENTY. It's
kinda sad, but kinda happy too. This is one of my deeper ones I think. Set after
GT, even though I usually like to pretend that THAT atrocity never happened.
And YES, I do have a tiny, itty-bitty TxP thing going, so please forgive me.
Temporary Insanity!
***
Gohan tucked his young daughter into bed, adjusting the blue blankets and
stuffed animals around her. The night-light cast a soft light on the scene,
making it seem ethereal. Outside the window, a partial moon shined sadly down on
them, with the stars dancing to music all their own.
"Daddy?" Pan asked, rubbing her eyes wearily. Her big black eyes glittered
up, catching the luminescent moonlight and throwing it back. "Can we visit
Grampa tomorrow?"
Gohan smiled back and ruffled her hair. "Of course, Panny, we'll visit
Grampa after breakfast."
Pan wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek, little eight-
year-old face split in a huge smile. "Thank you, Daddy." She snuggled back into
her bed and under the covers. With a tiny yawn, her eyes closed.
Gohan watched his baby girl sleep for a few minutes, his cheerful mask
falling away for a few minutes to show the world-weary man he'd become. His eyes
lost their shine, and a few wrinkles showed around his eyes. One or two silver
hairs caught the glow of the night-light. He didn't like to admit it, but he was
getting old.
With a sigh, he left the room. But before he passed through the door, he
paused by a bookshelf. On the top, adorning the hard wood shelf beside stuffed
rabbits and mutilated action figures was a picture. A tall, black-haired man
stood beside Gohan, holding Pan in his arms. His wide, innocent smile was a
mirror image of Gohan's.
Gohan grinned at the image and flicked an imaginary speck of dust off of
it before leaving. The silver of the frame gleamed dully in his wake.
***
He called her on the road
From a lonely coat hotel room
Just to hear her say 'I love you'
One more time
And when he heard the sound
Of the kids laughing in the background
He had to wipe a tear from his eye
Little voice came on the phone
Said 'Daddy will you come home?'
He said the first thing that came to his mind
***
"Come on, Daddy!" Pan called, running ahead. Her orange and blue sweater
standing out against the mushy, half-melted slush and ice. Gohan jogged after
her, deeper into the woods. As they rounded a bent in the trail, a small, neat
little cottage came into view. Out front, a dark haired woman was sweeping the
porch, her hair drawn back into a severe bun and her clothing drab and loose.
The clothes and hair did not disguise what had once been an extraordinary
beauty, or the life that was now all but crushed in her dark, sorrowful eyes.
"Grammy Chichi!" Pan called, running forward and enveloping the woman in a
hug. Chichi looked up from her sweeping, startled at the sudden attack. But she
smiled kindly and squeezed the child back.
"Panny, what are you doing here?" she asked, looking up at her son for an
answer. For a second, something flashed in her eyes, but it was quickly
smothered. It might have once been hope, but was far too dim now to be called
anything more than, 'nebulous.' "Nothing's happened, has it?"
Gohan shook his head and kissed his mother on the cheek. "No, we just came
by to see Grampa," he said, watching regretfully as her face flashed from it's
brief life back into a dull unresponsiveness. Then the memory was pushed back
down and she smiled tentatively.
"He's out back, as usual," she said, forcing out a grin. "You know your
father, he never has time for anything."
Gohan smiled back and let her keep her dreams. "I know; some things just
don't change. We'll see him, and then we'll come inside. Is that okay, Mom?"
Chichi smiled and nodded. "Tell him that it's almost time for lunch,
that'll get him inside. Then we'll all sit down and eat."
Gohan just nodded and took Pan's hand. "We'll be right back, Mom." He led
his daughter around the side of the house.
"Daddy, can I tell Grampa that it's time to eat?" Pan asked, bouncing
along.
"Of course you can, Panny," Gohan answered, making his voice sound light
hearted.
Pan saw something off to the side of the path and pulled out of his grasp.
"Daddy, there he is!" she cried, as though seeing some small wonder for the
first time. She ran over, falling to her knees in the slush by a small
gravestone that overlooked a cliff. By looking down, one could see a small city,
and all the life and bustle that it contained.
"Grampa, we came to visit!" she called, wrapping her arms around the cold
stone. "Grammy says that it's time for lunch, so you're s'posed to come home now
before she smacks you with her fry-pan again."
Gohan stood a few feet back from where Pan knelt by the burial place of
her grandfather and listened to her chatter at him. She talked about everything
from how pretty the house looked to a boy that was teasing her in school. She
even stopped, as though listening to a response.
"Panny, don't get your shoes muddy," Gohan warned quietly as his daughter
almost cart wheeled into a puddle, showing her Grampa what Trunks had taught
her.
"But Daddy!" she protested, big eyes shining with tears. "Grampa wanted to
see!"
The man just shook his head slowly. "Panny, you know that Grampa can't
hear you," he said. "I told you before."
"But he can!" she said. "Grammy says so all the time, and even Uncle
Veggie listens for him!"
Gohan chuckled grimly, but didn't argue. He knew there was no point. If
she wanted to talk to her Grampa, she would. "Alright, Panny, you can show
Grampa your cartwheel, just don't get muddy."
Pan squealed joyfully. "Did'ja hear that, Grampa?" she asked the wind.
"See, this is how you do it!" She proceeded to show her Grampa how to do a
cartwheel. Gohan just watched, the sad smile never leaving his face.
Eventually, Pan ran inside for lunch, leaving Gohan alone with the grave
of his father. Kneeling down, he touched the stone, brushing the snow and melted
ice off of the beveled lettering.
"I'm sorry I hadn't come to visit before, Father," he whispered. "I wish
you were able to see every one now. Pan's growing like a weed; she'll break some
hearts when she grows up. And little Bra and Trunks are following in their
father's footsteps. They might even fight in the Tenkaichi Bodoukai one day.
Vegeta and Bulma finally separated, they figured out that they just didn't get
along like they thought they could; but he's still living with her." He stopped,
watching the sun form patterns on the ground through the budding tree branches.
"You know Vegeta misses you, don't you, Father?" Gohan finally questioned,
looking back to the grave. A small border of well cared for bushes and flowers
danced in the breeze, leaves rustling. "I don't know what you two had, but he's
killing himself waiting for you. He won't eat, or sleep, all because he's
waiting for 'Kakkarot' to come home and spar with him." He brushed his hair out
of his eyes from where the wind had tossed it about. "He loves you, even if he
won't say it. I think he even loves you more than Mother does. We expect her to
come around any day now. Bulma's given up on feeding him, he just won't take
it." Gohan shook his head and watched the changing shadows silently.
A chirping bird broke him out of his reverie. "We all miss you, Father,"
Gohan murmured, tracing the writing on the cold slate. "Don't forget us up
there." Standing, he turned and headed back to the house, leaving only crushed
grass and a few tears on the ground to show he'd even been there.
***
Goku leaned against the tree and watched as his son left his gravesite.
He smiled at the broad back of his first-born child, even though he knew that he
wouldn't see him.
Gohan and Pan were gone, but the spirit of Son Goku still lingered,
warming the shadows, and thinking. His black hair and eyes were starkly black
against the snow, even though they were transparent as mist. Some days, being
dead was incredibly lonely, but then someone came to visit him, and he could do
more than just watch. He could listen, and let them know what he felt, even if
it was only a nebulous feeling in their hearts. But Pan...
One day, he knew she'd have to grow up, and then she wouldn't see him any
more, and wouldn't be able to play with him like she did now. It hurt to have to
be an imaginary friend, but it was the only option he's been given. He missed
his family and friends, Vegeta especially. But he had made his choice, and he
couldn't back out now.
'Vegeta,' he mouthed silently. 'Don't wait for me.'
The wind carried his words, but no mortal ear heard them.
***
I'm already there
Take a look around
I'm the sunshine in your hair
I'm the shadow on the ground
I'm the whisper in the wind
I'm your imaginary friend
And I know I'm in your prayers
Oh I'm already there
***
Vegeta curled up against the window, looking out at the night sky and
remembering. His cheekbones showed sharply against his pale skin, and his ribs
could be counted underneath the loose blue tank top he wore. A plate full of
food sat on a tray beside him, cold and untouched.
"Kakkarot, you bastard, get your butt back here," he half-yelled out the
window. "Come back here and fight like a Saiyan!" He pounded his head once
against the glass, letting it rest there. Tears dripped down his thin cheeks,
landing on wrists scarred by knives and teeth, proof of three years of pain.
He'd been sitting in this same spot for months. Before that it had been
the porch. He only moved when he figured out someplace that would have a better
view of when Kakkarot came back to spar with him again. Even though he knew that
he wasn't coming back, that didn't change his determination to wait for Kakkarot
to come home. That was the only reason he saw for living; to wait for Kakkarot
come back to him.
That woman kept trying to feed him. He didn't want to eat. He wouldn't eat
until Kakkarot came back to fight him! So, the idiot was dead, so what? It had
never stopped him before.
He didn't quite know when he had fallen for the third-class idiot. Maybe
it was somewhere between now and when he had died for Earth. It could have even
happened when they had first met. Even when he had been trying to kill him, he
could never quite bring himself to... Well, if he had ever really gotten the
chance to do so. There was just something in those eyes, a hidden pain that
matched his own. He held a fire that Vegeta had never found anywhere other than
a mirror before he met Kakkarot.
Then the fool had to go off and give up his life for the Earth. He had
given it all up; just to save a bunch of weak beings that wouldn't even remember
his name, much less what he had done for them. It was pathetic, even for him.
But sometimes- just sometimes, when he cut himself deep enough and was
allowed to bleed long enough- he could see him again. He was always just
standing there, smiling like he always had. But the mask was gone, that blank,
innocent mask that Vegeta had always hated, and the smile was a smirk. Life
still shined in his eyes, but it was a kind that had never been there before.
Kakkarot had a will to live, even when he was dead, and it burned through
the mists of reality to shine like a new sun. He wanted to live- to breathe and
fight- but he had done what he though was right, and that showed in every
formless step he took, in the words that Vegeta heard blowing through the tree
branches on a cold night. It had taken Kakkarot's death to show everyone how to
live, how to let their Saiyan side shine through. Even the scholarly Gohan had
started training again, and Goten and Trunks were fast on their way to becoming
stronger than either of their fathers.
Vegeta looked down at the minuscule pocketknife in his hands. It was so
small that he'd been able to fit it in his boot, and that woman Bulma hadn't
taken it away like she had all the others. With something akin to a smile,
Vegeta added another cut to his wrist, pressing so deeply that he was sure they
wouldn't be able to bring him back this time. The blood spilled over his palm,
crimson glitter where the dim moonlight hit it, black in the shadows. Leaning
against the window again and watching as his blood spilled out.
***
Goku watched as Bra walked into the room to find her father nearly passed
out from blood loss. Her scream echoed through the house, bouncing off the walls
and carrying down to the first floor. Bulma came rushing in, first-aide kit in
hand. Between her and Bra, they managed to keep Vegeta from dying while the
ambulance arrived. Goku followed as the white-coated men carried his old
sparring partner out the door.
***
Vegeta opened his eyes. Around him there were several people, and each one
seemed to be yelling something different in urgent, harsh voices. Leaning over
him, a tall, muscular figure with wild black hair was frowning, his golden halo
seeming to shine independently of the shifting lights.
"Kaka..." Vegeta murmured weakly, and tried to lift his hand to touch that
beautiful face. His arm didn't move, and he looked over to see why. There were
several black straps holding him down. With a scowl, he started pulling against
them.
"Stop him!" someone yelled. A body was thrown over his arm, pinning him
down. Vegeta struggled against the weight, but his weakened muscles wouldn't let
him do more than that.
"Vegeta," Goku whispered, his voice echoing slightly. "Stop fighting
them." He touched the Prince's face gently, his fingers like a cold fog against
his skin.
"But I don't want to stay," Vegeta objected, still fighting. "Just let me
go!" He pushed up against the people, managing to dislodge one of them.
"No." Goku pushed him back down tenderly. Vegeta struggled against him,
but he wasn't able to resist the other man. "It's not your time." Some one stuck
a needle in him, injecting him with a tranquilizer.
"And it was yours?" Vegeta asked, collapsing back against the pillows of
the gurney. "Kakkarot, I..."
Goku placed a ghostly finger against Vegeta's lips. "I know, Vegeta," he
murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. "Believe me; I know."
"Kakkarot?" Vegeta asked, his eyelids falling as the drug took over,
weighting down his limbs with leaden exhaustion. "Why..." He trailed off, taking
a deep breath.
"I'm always with you, Vegeta, remember that," Goku murmured softly. Then,
his form wavered and vanished like so much mist.
Bulma and Bra watched as Vegeta cried himself to sleep.
***
And I'll gently kiss your lips
Touch you with my fingertips
So turn out the light
And close your eyes
***
"Vegeta?"
The Saiyan Prince looked around in the blank whiteness that he was
floating aimlessly in. This was not where he expected to go when he died. What
had happened? Where had Hell gone, and why hadn't he gone with it?
"Vegeta." The voice was firmer now, less questioning.
"Where am I?" he called, wincing as it enforced one of the oldest known
clichés ever. "And what do you want with me? I'm already dead, so it can't be
that.
"Vegeta, you're not dead," that soft, insubstantial voice murmured. It
surrounded him, brushing through his hair and stroking his skin.
"I'm not?" Vegeta was unconvinced. "Then what am I doing here, if I'm so
alive?"
A vague figure began to materialize out of the fog. He could only make out
an indistinct outline of it. Vegeta instinctively took a step back, and fell
back into a defensive position.
"No, you're not," Kakkarot said, emerging from the white fog that
surrounded them. He grinned, but there was something more Saiyan in his face
than there ever had been in life. "You have things left to do."
Vegeta abruptly remembered what had happened. How he had slit his wrists,
and what he had seen when his daughter saved him. "Why won't you just let me
die?" Vegeta asked, crossing his arms and glaring. "There's no point in my life
unless you're there too, Kakkarot."
Kakkarot just shook his head. "There is a point, and you won't be allowed
to leave until you do what you have to." He smirked. "That's the only reason I
was allowed to stay on Earth, you know."
Vegeta gritted his teeth and propelled himself closer to the third class
idiot. "You're joking. I don't need a sitter." His fists clenched where they
were pressed tightly to his sides.
"You do, or I wouldn't have to keep stopping you from killing yourself,"
Kakkarot answered, looking straight through Vegeta. "You're the only full-
blooded Saiyan left, you know. You have to protect the people of Earth."
"That's your job."
Kakkarot grinned like his old- living- self. "Yeah, but I can't do it
anymore. That means that it's up to you to do my job."
Vegeta sniffed and glowered darkly. "And if I refuse?"
Kakkarot shrugged. "Who knows? You may end up warming your toes with
Radditz and Freeza, or you could end up with me." He blew a bang out of his
eyes. "Why do you have to be so stubborn?" It was almost a whine.
Vegeta eyed him warily. "And why would I want to end up with a moron like
you?"
Kakkarot smiled smugly and just looked at him mutely. Vegeta squirmed
under that confident stare. Finally, he broke.
"So I love you!" he snarled. "So what? I don't want to protect weakling
humans! Just let me die, and we'll both be happy." Fire burned in his eyes,
proof of the truth of his statement.
So quickly that he wasn't able to follow the movement with his eyes,
Vegeta was encircled in Kakkarot's arms tightly.
"See?" the taller man murmured, nuzzling his neck. "Was that so hard to
say?"
"I don't want to stay here," Vegeta answered, knowing that he was sounding
like a child being asked to wash dishes. "I want to go with you."
"You can't." Kakkarot pulled away and brushed his cheek softly with
calloused hands. "You have to stay here, with everyone. I'll come and get you
when it's time to go. I promise."
Vegeta nodded against his shoulder.
"Vegeta, you know I love you." Kakkarot nipped at the junction of Vegeta's
shoulder and neck, gently running questing fingers down his spine. "I wouldn't do
this to you if I didn't have to."
The Saiyan Prince purred softly at the touch of his love, leaning into
the strong body. "I... I kno... oh..." He trailed off as Kakkarot rubbed the
base of his tail, sending fire racing through his brain.
Kakkarot grinned evilly. "Like that?" He traced a line around the tail,
smoothing the hair down with his other fingers. Vegeta pushed closer, growling
and letting his own hands explore his mate's body. Suddenly, Goku paused.
"What's wrong?" Vegeta asked, his face flushed.
The dead man pulled away and kissed Vegeta's lips softly, chastely. "I
have to go now. I can only stay for so long."
Vegeta gripped him tighter. "Don't go, please." It was the closest the
proud Saiyan prince would ever come to pleading. "I love you."
"Vegeta, I love you too, but I have to. Just remember, I'm always
with you." Kakkarot pulled back and vanished into the mist.
Vegeta woke up in tears.
***
We may be a thousand miles apart
But I'll be with you where ever you are
***
The procession moved down the grassy, flower-lined aisle. On either side,
people wearing black cried. Some reached out to touch the passing coffin, while
others simply wept onto the shoulders of their family members. The coffin was
lowered into the hole that had been dug for it as the priest chanted the last
rights in a monotone. Finally, the ceremony ended, and everyone left, tears in
their eyes. Only close family members and friends stayed to say good-bye
privately.
Goten knelt forlornly beside the grave of his mother, leaning against the
grave as he cried like a lost little boy. Gohan put his arms around his little
brother and led him away, barely holding back the tears himself.
Pan leaned against Trunks, her face buried in his shoulder. He kissed the
top of her head while she cried. Bulma just stood there beside a stoic Vegeta,
her eyes caressing the final resting place of her longtime friend.
"She finally just gave up," Pan wailed. "Why did she have to go?" Trunks
hugged her closer.
"At least she's beside Goku," Bulma whispered, wiping a single tear off of
her cheek.
Vegeta simply clenched a fist and turned his back to the tomb.
In the background, a softly glowing Goku and Chichi vanished silently,
leaving only silence and memories to soothe their loved ones.
***
The bride walked down the aisle, a cloud of white lace and velvet. Her
long black hair was swept up into an intricate braid, and left to form a
waterfall of curls and ringlets over her shoulder, where tiny seed pearls had
been woven into the silken tresses, highlighting the blue roses that had been
plaited into a ringlet that held her veil. There was blue trim to her dress, and
an old orange bandanna peeked out from beneath her veil. Her father escorted her
slowly, crying almost as much as her mother was. At the far end of the blue-
carpeted walkway, the groom fidgeted with his gloves nervously, lavender hair
combed neatly and pulled back into a long ponytail that hung loosely down his
back.
Gohan handed Pan to Trunks, passing a fatherly glare that said, 'Hurt her
and you will die the most painful death I can imagine,' along with his daughter.
Trunks gulped and looked at Pan's offered arm dubiously, as though wondering if
eternal bliss with the woman he loved was worth having a father-in-law. A glare
from Pan, very similar to her father's, made up his mind, and Trunks took Pan's
arm to finish the walk down the aisle.
Among the crowd, Vegeta and Bulma sat next to each other. Vegeta was
glowering, as usual, and Bulma was already crying, even before the priest began
the ceremony. Bra, on Vegeta's other side, was crying almost as much as her
mother, in between sending fierce looks at her best friend for taking away her
big brother.
'Damned women, always getting so emotional. Anyone could see that those
two were bonded. It's about time they became mates. Even though I still don't
see why everyone insisted on this stupid human ceremony. It's pointless; just
let them do what needs to be done, and get it over with. There's no need for all
of this frivolous junk,' Vegeta kept up a mental rant as the wedding progressed
on.
Finally, the priest reached the part that always had everyone holding
their breath. "And if any think that these two should not be joined, speak now,
or forever hold your peace."
Vegeta smirked, and- just for the fun if it- began to raise his hand.
Bulma and Bra, who had been watching for something like this to happen,
immediately clapped his hands down to his sides, even though they knew that they
wouldn't be able to hold him if he really wanted to break loose. Vegeta smirked
and began to flex his arms teasingly, as though trying to escape.
A weight suddenly settled itself on his lap. Vegeta, startled, looked up
to see the hazy form of Kakkarot perched comfortably on his thighs. No one
around him seemed to notice anything unusual.
'Stop that, Vegeta. Let them have their moment,' Kakkarot mentally chided
him, frowning a little. The voice was echoing inside his head. Vegeta grimaced
back, but stopped pretending to try and protest.
'Kakkarot!' he snarled mentally. 'What are you doing here?'
'You think I'd miss my own granddaughter's wedding?' the man in his lap
asked. 'Watch the ceremony, it's almost over.' He turned back to watch the bride
and groom. Vegeta growled under his breath, but also turned to see what was
happening. Bra and Bulma both gave relieved sighs and let go of his arms.
"By the power vested in me," the preacher continued, "I now pronounce you
man and wife. You may kiss the bride." Trunks lean over and pulled Pan's veil
over her head, then tenderly kissed her lips. Bra, Bulma, and every other woman
in the crowd started wailing loudly, while everyone else broke out in cheers.
Kakkarot just sighed, but then got a thunderstruck look on his face.
'Hey, Vegeta?'
'Yes, Kakkarot?'
'When we get married, who's going to wear the dress?'
It was at that exact second that Pan decided to break the schedule up and
threw the bouquet over her head, never removing her lips from Trunks'. The
object of blue roses, water lilies and baby's breath flew through the air,
arching up in an elegant curve. When it came down, it passed directly through
Kakkarot and landed squarely in Vegeta's arms. Vegeta simply looked down at the
bundle, well aware of what the tossing of the bouquet meant. He face faulted,
with Kakkarot's ghostly laughter echoing in his ears.
***
I'm already there
Don't make a sound
I'm the beat of your heart
I'm the moonlight shining down
I'm the whisper in the wind
And I'll be there till the end
Can you feel the love that we share
Oh I'm already there
***
Vegeta sat on the cliff side, looking down at the city. His hair was
silver, and faint lines of age graced his face. Beside him and behind him,
several gravestones stood stark against the setting sun. Fiery reds, purples and
oranges caught the stark stones, making the gold-flaked names stand out. Each
was the tomb of someone he knew: friends, family, even his children. Somehow, he
had outlived them all. There was only one left unfilled, and Vegeta could tell
that it would not remain so for long. He was old, and it was finally time for
him to sleep.
A foot crunching in the autumn leaves made Vegeta turn sharply, even
though he winced as he did so.
Kakkarot looked back at him, arms crossed and a very Saiyan smirk on his
face.
"So you're finally coming back to get me," Vegeta commented, turning
around completely to face the ghost of his love. "It sure took you long enough."
Kakkarot raised his eyebrows and looked around at the trees. "It all
depends. Have you finished what you were supposed to? Or do I have to leave for
another couple of centuries?"
Vegeta laughed harshly and waved a hand at the lively town below. "Look,
they're not all dead, are they? I did what I was supposed to do, not that they
deserved my protection." He slowly climbed to his feet, grimacing in pain as his
hip creaked.
"Not for want of trying to get out of it," Kakkarot grumbled before
reaching down a hand to help Vegeta to his feet. "Are you ready to go yet? It's
almost time."
Vegeta just brushed the offered help aside with a grunt and pushed himself
to his feet. "I'm not that old, you know," he snapped. It came out almost
affectionate. "Yes, I'm ready to go, just as soon as you're ready to take me."
"Is that an offer?" the other Saiyan smirked and then swiftly dodged a
flying rock.
"Pervert!" Vegeta yelled, throwing another rock. It shattered against the
ground, leaving a large ditch. "You sick, twisted-" He was cut off as Kakkarot
wrapped strong arms around him.
"Yours." Kakkarot kissed him tenderly, feeling the flutter of Vegeta's
fragile heart against his temporarily solid chest. It beat faster, near
bursting. Finally, Kakkarot pulled way, leaving Vegeta weak-kneed and gasping
for air.
"Take me home, Kakkarot," Vegeta gasped, leaning against the taller
Saiyan. "I'm so tired... Just take me home." He looked up into the jet eyes that
he had spent centuries missing. Love that he had never had a chance at having in
life shined back at him, even as Kakkarot kissed him again. Vegeta kissed back
deeply, reveling in the play. His body fell away as the old heart finally gave
out. Even as it hit the earth, Vegeta started shining with a light all his own
as he kissed his love back. All the life that he had had in him burst forth, no
longer dimmed by the weight of a body that no longer served its purpose.
They pulled away from each other, and Vegeta turned and looked down at the
still form of himself. It was odd, seeing his body lying there like that. It was
old, wrinkled and weak, worn out and tired. He looked down at his own hands,
then back at the husk of his former self.
"It'll take getting used to," Kakkarot assured him, wrapping his arms
around his soul mate and nuzzling his neck affectionately. Vegeta leaned back
and sighed. A opalescent light gathered around the two lovers, and they faded
out still embracing. Maybe everything does work out for those who love.
***
We may be a thousand miles apart
But I'll be with you where ever you are
I'm already there
Take a look around
I'm the sunshine in your hair
I'm the shadow on the ground
I'm the whisper in the wind
And I'll be there till the end
Can you feel the love that we share
Oh I'm already there
~SONG CHORUS~
I'm already there
Don't make a sound
I'm the beat of your heart
I'm the moonlight shining down
I'm the whisper in the wind
And I'll be there till the end
Can you feel the love that we share
Oh I'm already there
We may be a thousand miles apart
But I'll be with you where ever you are
I'm already there
Take a look around
I'm the sunshine in your hair
I'm the shadow on the ground
I'm the whisper in the wind
And I'll be there till the end
Can you feel the love that we share
Oh I'm already there