Disclaimer
Chapter 2
ljv
"The hardest battle you're ever going to fight is the battle to be just you."
-Leo F. Buscaglia
***
It was not, he supposed, entirely his fault. He would not take all the blame.
At the very least, it was the time. It was about this time of year that the full moon would be rising on his home planet. He knew the lunar cycles well. His body knew it far better than his mind did. The familiar ache in his bones and the restless energy infused within his body. Thousands of years of evolution were difficult suppress even when the planet was missing, his body still ached and yearned for it. The earth should be thankful that it did not have a moon. He was capable of more damage in the moment than he cared to admit to himself.
Normally on a night like this he would train like all the times before. He could repress it. But the machine was still broken. All he could do was lie awake, restless and angry. That was how he ended up walking the halls of Capsule Corp. in the dead of night. This how he first smelt her; or at least smelt her scent like this. The scent of her froze him; leaving him transfixed in a lustful, shocked stupor. Vegeta hesitated for a second too long. Before he could control his body to turn the other way, she rounded the corner.
The blue haired harpy was about to come into heat. Her scent was almost too much alone. She had been working in that damn lab all day and sweat had formed on her brow. Vegeta could see the sweat stains in her shirt that had already formed hours before. It was not that she had not smelt good before it was just as if somehow her scent was condensed; making it more potent and dangerous than Vegeta had ever dared to imagine. The new sweat mixed in with the old; it was bitter and it was sweet; it was, simply, irresistible.
It would have been for the best to keep his distance; let alone his silence. Not to ignite her anger, or spark the fire his body demanded. It would have been wiser. As it were, that temptation was one too many. It was her anger at his insults. The way she defended her ability to fix the gravity machine, how she blamed him for completely destroying it. The way her chest heaved against her dirty tee shirt, the way blood caked the tips of her fingertips, the way her round mouth twisted and her eyes narrowed in anger, it was the shiny sweat upon her brow… Vegeta could not be blamed.
***
The brat was still alive.
'Barely.'
Vegeta watched the child struggle. It was, it its own way therapeutic. Vegeta understood cruelty and what he was doing to the young child was very close to but he refused to think of it such. This was training. Vegeta refused to train anyone who was not tough enough to stand it. Whatever the cruelty of the desert had to offer was nothing compared to what he expected.
Vegeta should have been training himself. This was a fact he considered as his face twisted in distaste. He could not understand what was taking the blue-haired harpy so long to fix the damn machine. She was supposed to be a genius. He was beginning to doubt such a title. That was his anger's logic and he knew it. What really was keeping him away from training was nothing he wanted to admit to himself.
And after their… 'encounter', he refused to hang around Capsule Corp. more than what was necessary. Mainly because whenever he was even remotely near to her, he could not stay away.
It was not an addiction exactly, but it was close. Close enough and personal enough to render him as helpless as he had ever felt before in his life. It was a strange type of battle he had engaged himself in with this woman. It had nothing to do with martial arts, the strength of her kick, or the technique of her punch. It was something subtler and more dangerous than he had ever encountered. It was a battle that seemed to be defined by temptation. A battle that was the predator to his lust. He could not help but feel that he was nothing more than helpless prey presented to a fantastic predator. A predator with deep blue eyes and long blue hair.
Vegeta scowled up into the blue skies being reminded more strongly than what was comforting.
He focused again on the child.
The child was more than struggling. The child was moving to the east. On foot he had covered more than fifty miles. Vegeta did a quick estimate. Another ten and the child would reach an oasis.
Vegeta was impressed that the child was not only moving but also moving in the direction of water and food. It was almost as if the child knew where to go. Though Vegeta could not think of any reason why the boy would. He left this to chance. The boy was a good guesser, that or extremely lucky. Vegeta did not know which did not care enough to think of it extensively.
Vegeta did a quick check of the boy's ki. It was low much like before. Far lower than the average human, but this child kept moving. By all estimates, by the best of Vegeta's knowledge, the child's ki should have died out long ago. That was what Vegeta was waiting for. As soon as the boy's ki lowered past the point of what was enough to keep him alive, Vegeta planned on intervening and taking the boy away from the desert to train him.
The boy's ki had lowered long ago past the point at which a normal human would be conscious let alone walking. The child kept moving with such speed that to Vegeta's knowledge should not be 'humanly' possible.
This was something of an enigma. It was a mystery that was becoming more and more prominent the more Vegeta observed the child. It was prominent from the first moment Vegeta met the boy, it was only just becoming apparent to him now. The boy was able to defeat four other boys with greater ki's. While strength had not always made the better fighter, Vegeta knew enough that it was a huge advantage, particularly when it was four against one. Even now as the child wandered through the vast desert, his ki was low enough he should have been lying upon the sandy dunes barely breathing.
Vegeta furrowed his brow. He would have to investigate this further, but now he had to make sure the child did not completely kill himself. He continued to watch the struggle.
There was a prominent burn as the boy's neck and arms. The nose and cheeks looked raw and well as the legs. He could see the small chest gasp for air. He watched those bright blue eyes water. He noted with fascination that they did not look any less fierce. It was still as if the blue eyes were burning. Vegeta imagined for a moment just how horrible it would be if they burned out. Vegeta knew that he would do everything he could to do just that. Tame the fire in the boy's bright blue eyes. He suspected and hoped that he might fail. It had been a great while since he had seen that type of anger and cruelty in any being. The child had enough anger in him to keep the world on its knees. The child's defiance was the only reason Vegeta ever considered breaking him.
***
Her scent was infuriating.
"The machine is finished."
He turned his head slowly to look at her frail figure in the doorway. She stood drenched in her own sweat and darkened by grease. Her mouth was drawn into a thin line as she looked hatefully into Vegeta's eyes. He appraised the thin waif-like line of her body before looking away from her and back out the window. He let out a low grunt.
This response, or as Vegeta thought of it, lack of, set her into a rage; a delicious, infuriating, dangerous rage.
"You unimaginable prick! Do you have any idea how difficult it was to repair that thing!"
He did not need to turn around to know that she had stepped further into the room. Her scent was more dominating; teasing at his senses – alluring and taunting; completely surrendering control that was so weak before.
Vegeta growled in mixture of frustration and lust. He still did not trust himself to look at her. He held onto the hope that maybe he could resist. He told himself he could. Vegeta was never much of a liar. "Woman, you are playing with fire."
Bulma did not seem to hear Vegeta's comment. "You are a useless piece of space trash! You have no respect. Do you have any idea what I do for you? I don't have to let you stay here! I could just kick you out! You fucking bastard!"
She kept moving closer and closer to him. Vegeta tensed his shoulders and clenched his fists as if somehow this would hold his body in place, as if it would stop him from turning around and taking her like he had like every time before.
"Look at me when I am talking to you!"
Vegeta still had his back turned to her. Vegeta was still trying his hardest to resist.
She was moving closer still.
Vegeta growled out. "Woman, don't come any closer to me."
"I will do whatever I want! How dare you?"
Vegeta could see her reflection in the glass of the window he was looking out. He could see her raise her fist to hit his back.
It was later that Vegeta convinced himself it was instinct really. True, she could have never hurt him with a punch. But it was his instinct to defend himself. To grab her wrist in order to prevent contact. He could hardly be blamed for taking her into his arms. It was, after all, only instinct.
***
It was not as if Vegeta had forgotten about the blue eyed brat he had left in the desert. It was just that another blue-eyed brat had taken over his mind. The purple haired freak that was by all estimations a super saiyan. A super saiyan that came with a grim story of the future. If there was ever a time to train, it now more than ever. Vegeta was never one to back down from such a challenge.
***
All in all; everything felt slightly ridiculous. From the beginning to the end – or rather from where it started to how is it was now. First the androids, then Cell, then dead Kakarrot, and now a world that was physically healing from the damage and psychologically scarred from it as well.
Vegeta felt the only thing he had ever felt after battle. It was not joy or regret, but a kind of emptiness that was like holding a breath and then letting it go. It was not exactly relief, but it was a kind of emptiness that was comforting; the kind of emptiness where he did not feel like doing anything. He knew this would not last. Such emotions never did.
If anything, Vegeta was afraid for the moment when he had to breath in again. Like a body could only go so long without oxygen, he could only go so long without having the fighting instinct within him. When everything about him was inexplicably tied to flighting, he knew when it came back everything would hurt. He knew that when he had to breathe again, he would have to remember what it was like to watch his son die. The confrontation with his feelings was something he had always been able to repress; he did not have the same confidence this time. His young son, still a baby, and Vegeta knew in that moment he would never want to watch that again. He could not bare the idea of Trunks being killed. It was perhaps one of the most powerful convictions Vegeta had ever felt and it hurt like hell.
There was more to confront; more things Vegeta did not want to deal with. He would have to remember the terror of watching a child let the weight of an entire world fall upon his shoulders. Gohan fought well; but he should have never had to. A child should never have that kind of responsibility placed on their shoulders. That is what Gohan was; nothing more than a child. It was a painful responsibility on Vegeta's part to recognize that Gohan was a warrior; painful because Vegeta knew the exact pain Gohan would have to face. Vegeta would never admit this to anybody, but what he felt was a deep sense of pity for Kakarrot's son. The life of a warrior was not a curse he would wish upon anybody.
If Vegeta could have defeated Cell in Gohan's place, he would have. Yet as all things, the past was the past and in that moment he did not have enough energy in his body to even have the desire to change it. Perhaps one day he would. Perhaps one day he would wish to revisit the past, but now he wished to hide from the onslaught of emotions that would, without doubt, soon find him.
***
For once he was not training. But sitting in the center of the gravity room's expansive size focusing on thinking of nothing.
He noticed the door opening and felt the gravity of the room turn off. He was angry at whoever decided to bother him. Not angry enough; not angry like he usually was. Even his words did not seem completely felt. He did not even bother to open his eyes to look at the person who disturbed him.
"Get the hell out of here."
There was a slight pause at the doorway and then a quiet indifference. Vegeta felt for the ki of the intruder and felt his stomach twist. It was Chichi. He opened his eyes angrily. Vegeta was sure that in the moment he was more afraid of her than she was of him.
Her footsteps were light and her voice was quiet yet their was an undertone that was violent; that seemed to scream misery. It was far more violent and disturbing than the harshest of Vegeta's words. "Bulma told me you have been in here for the past two days."
"Did you not hear me, woman? Get the hell out of here."
Chichi seemed unaffected by his words. She continued to walk at an even pace toward where Vegeta sat in the center of the room. She stopped less than five feet away from him.
He locked his dark eyes upon hers. "What the hell do you want?"
A small painful twitch of her lips suggested she was about to smile. The expression never really completed itself on her face. "How long has it been since you have gone outside, Vegeta?"
Vegeta growled. "If you came here for small talk, I suggest you leave now. I do not have the patience."
The normal Chichi would have yelled at him for his insolence. Instead she answered smoothly with the same half smile, half grimace on her face. "I did not come here for small talk, Vegeta. I came to ask you a favor."
Vegeta noted the dark circles under her eyes and the hollowness of her cheeks. "When was the last time you slept, woman?"
Chichi waved her hand flimsily. "All small talk."
Vegeta stood. "If you don't sleep woman, the child inside of you might not make it."
Chichi's eyes widened at Vegeta's observation. Her mouth twisted painfully. "You noticed?"
Vegeta snorted as he crossed his arms over his chest. "If I couldn't sense your baby's ki, then I could definitely smell it. Pregnancy changes a woman's scent."
Chichi bit her lip and turned her head away from Vegeta. He thought for a moment that she was going to cry. He was relieved when she turned her head back to Vegeta after a moment with a completely dry face.
"I need you to speak with Gohan."
Vegeta did not say anything for a moment. Chichi watched his expression dully; afraid and indifferent at the same time.
"You know," Vegeta started slowly, adopting a tone to his voice he rarely used, "things will be hard for a while. I cannot promise they will get any easier anytime soon."
Chichi's expression was twisted as she fought back pain that pushing to get out.
Vegeta kept talking anyway. "When everything is over, I don't know how long it will take, you will be thankful it happened. Because without it you would have never known how strong you could be."
A yelp escaped Chichi's mouth.
Vegeta watched her with hard eyes. "The path you son has chosen will not be easy. It won't be fair. But it is his path. He will protect the earth."
Chichi was suddenly glaring at Vegeta. "You think I don't know that! I never wanted this type of life for Gohan for that very reason! Now there is nothing I can do about it. You are the only other person on this planet that can come close to even rivaling my twelve year old son in power! He is only twelve! Twelve years old! He should never have had that kind of responsibility! Ever! And you are telling me that it is not fair. Damn you, Vegeta!"
Vegeta watched Chichi's outburst blankly. Inside her words were painful. They hurt him on a level that was too personal to confront. Vegeta spoke slowly. "Gohan is more than a child now. He.."
"Like hell he is!" Chichi interrupted furiously. "He is my son. He is my baby! He is not old enough to handle this type of responsibility."
Vegeta looked to the ceiling and then into Chichi's eyes. "If he was not capable enough to handle being the most powerful being on this planet and possibly in the universe then we would all be dead."
Whatever Chichi was about to say was caught in her throat. She closed her mouth and breathed in deeply through her nostrils. She lowered her eyes to the ground as if she was trying to gain control of her emotions. Finally she looked into Vegeta's eyes. He noticed the plea behind them.
"Can't you do it? Can't you protect the earth? Let Gohan grow up like a normal child?"
There was a hope in her eyes that Vegeta felt afraid of. He did not want to destroy it, but he knew he had no choice. "No. I can't."
The fire burned out only to be replaced with that black sheen he had seen when she first entered the gravity chamber.
The desperation was back. "Why?"
Vegeta turned his head away from Chichi's piercing gaze. "This planet was never mine to protect."
This comment enraged Chichi. "Your wife and child live here! Is that not incentive enough?"
Vegeta's mouth twisted knowing full well he was about to lie. He could not bring himself to tell Chichi that he would protect Earth with everything he had. He could not bring himself to admit that he would never have enough power to do so. Vegeta could never have the right amount of power to protect the planet as it should be protected. That Gohan always would. "No."
Chichi was shaking. "You're heartless bastard."
"That is why," he stated solidly, "I cannot be given the title of protector of this planet."
"So you will sacrifice my son to save your sorry ass!"
Vegeta closed his eyes. "I think you should leave now."
Though he felt her spike in ki and could sense her fist moving toward his jaw, he made no effort to stop her as she punched him across the cheek. He was certain it hurt her more than him, but it was more for message sake than it was for physical dominance. And Vegeta felt it.
***
Gohan was much easier to find than he should have been. Vegeta could not help but notice how small Gohan looked standing on the rock face of a massive cliff.
Vegeta landed behind him and he knew Gohan knew he was there. The boy did not say anything for a long while, barely even acknowledging him. Vegeta knew that if he was to speak to him, that Gohan would have to be the first to talk.
Finally the boy spoke his voice piercing the silence like a dagger. "This is where I first learned to fly."
Vegeta glanced over the cliff and noted the ground that was hundreds of feet below.
"Piccolo threw me off the edge." Gohan paused letting his words carry into silence. "I suppose," he chuckled painfully, "it was either do or die. There was never any in between. No small steps."
Vegeta watched the boy in front of him carefully. "I spoke to your mother."
Gohan chuckled. He still did not turn around to look at Vegeta. "I noticed her bruised fist. I suppose you are lucky she did not bring her frying pan." There was another pause before Gohan continued. "I think I should ask you what she wanted to talk you about."
"She wanted…," Vegeta began. He stopped not really sure how to verbalize what he had to say.
Gohan chuckled. "I have never heard you tongue tied before, Vegeta."
"Gohan, look at me."
Gohan stiffened and then slowly turned around to look at him. Vegeta's stomach twisted. He looked worse than his mother had. It did not look like he had slept for days or eaten.
Vegeta held the boy's gaze. "Are you ready to accept what you are?"
Pain flashed through Gohan's eyes. "What am I?"
Vegeta felt pity tighten the strings of his heart. "I cannot and will not answer that for you."
Gohan lowered his head. When he looked back up at Vegeta, there was a half crazed look in his eyes as his mouth curved into a goofy looking smile. "I am… I am a boy who wonders what would have happened if Piccolo threw his student off the cliff and the student never learned how to fly."
Vegeta looked at the boy's face for a quiet moment studying the hollows of his eyes and cheeks. Then before he allow emotion to touch upon him again, Vegeta attacked. Gohan who stood unguarded and unsuspecting was almost too easy to hit. Both of their bodies catapulted over the cliff's edge. Vegeta stopped himself from falling and allowed his body to float.
Gohan kept falling.
Vegeta watched the young warrior's body fall, forcing himself to feel nothing, until the boy became nothing more than a shadow blending in with the trees below. The prince floated and waited not entirely sure what he was expecting and repressing what he was hoping. Slowly, Vegeta made his way down to the ground. He looked around the area of where Gohan should have landed and found nothing.
Suddenly Vegeta was attacked with much more force than he had expected. His body was thrown in a mass of trees, their shards flying violently through the air. Immediately Vegeta retaliated.
Vegeta was not sure how long they fought. Neither Gohan's nor his heart was into the fight. The motions were mechanic. Gohan was seriously weakened from lack of sleep and food. The techniques of both warriors were sloppy. The fight was graceless. There was no art, no beauty, just angry desperation and uncontrollable grief. It was long after the sun set before they stopped.
Gohan had surrendered himself to the ground. Vegeta watched him warily preparing himself for anything. When no attack was initiated, Vegeta lowered himself to the ground. Gohan's shoulders shook. He was crying. Soundless tears streamed down his face making rivulets through the blood and the dirt. Vegeta watched as Gohan's body heaved and puked. Then the sound of his sobs was unleashed.
He watched a boy forced to become a man. He watched a warrior consumed by grief. Vegeta stayed with Gohan all night, standing guard and bearing witness to the boy's grief and loss. Vegeta knew staying with Gohan was the only way he could protect him. The future held so much – most of it, Gohan would have to face by himself. This was one of the last kindness Vegeta could offer him. It was a silent agreement. Gohan needed this. He needed this relief. He needed to face the pain. Vegeta watched the boy all night. When dawn broke, it was Vegeta that carried the boy's worn out body home.
Chichi met him at the door. He could not decide if the look in her eyes was anger or thankfulness. It was, he thought later, probably both.
***
"I need to leave this planet."
She was not surprised. Bulma had always expected it. Always dreaded it.
She looked up into her husband's face. She did not need his reasons. Vegeta was a complicated man and him verbalizing his reasons to her would serve no purpose. "Will you come back?"
There was no hesitation in his answer, which surprised Bulma. "Yes."
She felt confused. "Then why are you leaving?"
He smirked at her. Bulma felt her heart ache knowing how much she was going to miss him. "There are some things I have to take care of… other things… other things on this planet that would not develop if I was here."
Bulma was always smart. Sometimes her intuition still surprised Vegeta. "Gohan."
He looked into his wife's beautiful face with a grim expression. "I don't suppose you would believe me if I said it was for the good of the planet?"
Bulma shook her head. "You're right. I wouldn't." She paused. "You think Gohan can protect this planet better than you?"
Vegeta turned away from his wife and walked over the their bedroom window and gazed across the massive lawn. "If I was here, the boy would have no reason to train. He needs to train. He has more potential than any person…"
Vegeta did not need to finish. Bulma walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his torso. "I understand. It will take me about two-weeks to prepare a ship."
Vegeta lowered his head as he brought her delicate hands up to his face. He kissed each one and breathed in her scent. He would miss this. He would miss this more than anything else.
Bulma's voice suddenly picked up an edge to it she tried to repress. "How long will you be gone?"
Vegeta tensed. Finally he answered. "Seven years."
***
He came to the desert again. He had not come here in months… not since… Vegeta paused. There was something nagging in the back of his mind. Something… something…
Vegeta took to the skies in a blast of sand and rock.
Quickly he did a quick scan of ki signatures.
There was nothing.
He expanded his range. How long had to been? At least three years. Could a child survive this long in a barren desert for this long? Even if the child had survived the wilderness, had he survived Cell or the androids?
Then he felt something. It was weak. Small like all times before, but it could have been something. Vegeta took off to where the ki was located. He found it located on the edge of the desert. Where the sands turned into grasses.
The child was alive. A singular dot between the grasses of endless plains and rolling sand dunes. A long flimsy body stood outside of a crude hut cooking what appeared to be some type of boar. As Vegeta landed, the blue eyes immediately shot to his face. The eyes narrowed immediately.
The child had changed. Gotten longer. The hair was rough and jagged and came down to the square of his jaw. The clothes that the child had before were fashioned now into rags. One wrapped about the child's head. Another wrapped around the child's upper torso as if fashioned by a woman. The pants were turned into shorts. The skinny body was hardly pale, but darkly tanned. It made the brightness of the brat's blue eyes even more striking.
Vegeta broke the silence of their staring competition. "Boy, you are still alive."
The child nodded once.
He stepped closer to the child. He examined the makeshift home and the child's hateful eyes.
Vegeta scowled at the fire that seemed to burn even brighter than he remembered in the brat's eyes. "Boy, are you ready to train?"
The child shifted as the forehead furrowed.
Vegeta waited for an answer as the child opened his mouth. The voice, much like before, sounded scratched and very out of practice.
"I am not a boy."
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A/N: Done with chapter 2