Chapter III: Ministrations
"Nappa!"
Not wasting time, the behemoth man turned on the heels of his suit to face his commanding officer whose own size was dwarfed by him, despite the two of them being in power armor which added a significant boost to their height. That did not make him any less intimidated by him.
"Yes, Sir!"
"Keep your muzzle up!" Vegeta growled, trying to watch his volume, "If you can't handle being point man I will not hesitate to replace you with Raditz. Your sightlines are practically being drug on the ground, and I don't see any ferals or raiders crawling on their guts towards us, so stay sharp!"
Nappa stiffened at Vegeta's order, ignoring snickers coming from behind Vegeta and nodding furiously, "Ye-yes Sir, I guess the hunger is getting to me. It won't happen again."
He turned back around and resumed his position and continued moving forward. The pangs of hunger were not unusual amongst his squad, and it normally tainted their effectiveness.
"Listen everyone," Vegeta called over his shoulder, "Once we complete this mission, headquarters will have food for us. Just focus on what's ahead. I will not have anyone getting shot because they're paying attention to their stomachs. We're nearing our purge location."
Vegeta turned his back to the automated responses of "Yes, sir!" and motioned with a bladed hand to press on.
Survival came before pain. Always.
The pounding of the cold water felt both relaxing and painful on Vegeta's sore muscles. Bulma was not wrong about the water not being heated, but the high noon sun burned hot enough to make him forget it. The sensation of cleaning off all the grime and dirt from his body was a relief; it had been likely weeks since he had been able to wash himself properly. He always had to make do with scrubbing off in a murky lake or river, to which no amount of scouring ever made him feel less disgusting. He lathered the scentless soap into his thick hair, scrubbing deep into his skull.
Bulma had surprised him when she brought him to the small contraption set up alongside the building. Wrapped in the multi patterned corrugated steel for privacy, the shower was nothing but pipe secured over half a foot over his head and a single lever to turn it off. There was a cement block under him containing a drain, perhaps leading to another pipe to purify the water again. It was simple but certainly genius.
A familiar pain wracked his body, but this time it was unintelligible if it was from hunger or simply left over radiation poisoning. He hunched over, clutching his gut and pressing his chapped lips together, knowing better than to groan in pain. Bulma was likely still nearby waiting for him to continue talking his ear off.
He had known to woman for just shy of two hours, and save the brief moments she left him be, she continuously chattered about mostly nothing.
Despite this seemingly innocent demeanor of hers, she made him feel uneasy, and the longer he stood in the shower weaponless and vulnerable, the sicker he felt.
"Vegeta!" He rolled his eyes with a scoff.
"What?" He grumbled loud enough to be heard over the pouring water.
"I'm grabbing your clothes so they can be washed. They're gross and are probably contaminated with radiation." As she said that she grabbed the clothes that he had hung over the steel door. He could not help but shake his head when he heard them hit the ground with a loud clunk.
"What the hell is in these pants?" She said, "They're heavy as fuck!"
"Damn it!" He growled, shutting off the water. "Just let them be! I'll remove the items from them myself!"
"Whatever," She sighed loudly, tossing another pair of pants, undergarments and a shirt over the ledge. A grayish torn towel was tossed on top of the pile she made. "Goku used to wear these before he got taller. They should probably fit you."
Vegeta chose not to comment on what she meant by that and angrily ripped the towel off the ledge and begun drying himself. He still did not understand why she was asking him to live here with these people. It is not like he charmed his way in; in fact he had her at gun point once today already. But there she was, as he pushed opened the door to see her fluffing her hair, his "gross" clothes hung over her arm. The thought of the amount of blood on his shirt passed through his synapses, but he remained silent.
"Oh good, they do fit," She said, as he turned his back to her, nervously looking for his weapons he normally kept so close. "They're over there, where you left them. Didn't touch em."
He snorted and reached for his shotgun before even bothering with his boots. He slung the heavy gun over his shoulder, silently counting the rounds in his drum magazine and on his strap. When he was satisfied with the number, he grabbed his belt to secure around his waist, making sure the pistol still sat in the holster. The eyes watching his standard routine burned into him, making him feel uncomfortable.
He turned slightly as he put his boots on to face her, "Where are my pants?"
"Right where they fell."
He shrugged his bag over his shoulder, leather gloved tucked between his teeth. He shook the pants from the ground, dirt clouding the air. Sticking his hands into the deep pockets, he pulled out a handful of .44s. He retrieved another handful from the other pocket and his pocket watch. Feeling thankful these tan pants he now wore also had a multitude of pockets, Vegeta continued to empty his other pockets, theses ones containing more shotgun shells.
Feeling like her put on enough of a show for Bulma, he tossed her his now lighter pants, surprising her out of a trance.
"Jeez, you don't need to carry so much stuff around with you. Maybe one gun, but not an arsenal," She huffed, slinging the pants over her forearm.
"I'll carry what I please."
She shook her head and looked down at the two large contraptions hooked on her arm, one which he assumed was a watch, "Okay, let's get on with this tour. Right now we're on the north side of the building. It's the more private part of the building, obviously since I installed the shower here." She pointed to the tall wall that stood several meters above their heads. "This is the outer walls that protect us and the facility from ferals, raiders and basically anything else. It wraps around everything except the water drums, which I will show you in a bit. The outside of the walls are surrounded with a field of mines, rigged up by yours truly. You know, just in case some dumbass gets the idea to jump the wall. We have a lot at stake here, so we spent the years necessary to fortify the place. Sometimes things break so we'll send someone out to fix it."
Vegeta remained silent as he listened to Bulma babble about the trivialities of finding supplies to build such a tall wall. He understood why it was there. He's certain if the Empire caught wind of this place, there would be a fire squad here within a week. They're lucky to be as far south as they are.
He followed Bulma around the building where he noticed a small wooden fence guarded a moderately sized garden, housing a parched series of plants containing a small crop of vegetables.
"Chichi takes care of these. The yield isn't too bad." She shrugged and kept moving around the building to a vast space facing a blue lake and a row of cement drums. Even at the far distance that they were at, they seemed massive. Only two contained water. She pointed towards the small building near the drums, "That's where I control the pumps, chlorination, and sedimentation processes. To be brief, we siphon water from the lake, storing it in the drums. Once we treat it so that it is free of pollutants, we store it for drinking or bathing up there." She regarded the large tower not too far from the building.
Vegeta nodded with understanding, wondering why when Bulma spoke about the process, a dumb smile plastered itself on her face. If anything, he was impressed by the genius that went into restoring all of the aged equipment. He noticed a few people dipping in and out of the empty drums, climbing up the metal ladders that seems so tiny from his position. He motioned towards them with his hand, "And the empty ones?"
Bulma sighed sadly, "Broken. Can't get anything pumped in or out of them. There must be something wrong with piping, but they're all interconnected so I'm afraid if I mess something up, I'll mess everything up. If we could get them working, we could produce much more water. Not that it matters, though."
"Hn?"
She crossed her arms, his clothes still swinging on them, "I'm lacking the appropriate amount of fuel to run even what I have. This plant ran on fossil fuels pre-war, you know. There is not exactly a lot of that to salvage in the new world." She ran her hands through her hair, squeezing her eyes shut. "Anyways, those people are some contracted folk I bring in to help out. They don't live here like the others do, as I've mentioned. They just help me out in exchange for caps and clean water for their families, naturally."
Vegeta dug his boot awkwardly into the dirt, mulling over her odd little sanctuary, as temporary as it might be. He followed her as she began moving again, watching her boots kick up her lab coats tails.
The blue haired scientist continued to show him around the area outside of the building where he originally woke. She showed him an area which she called "The Yard" where she said contained the softest sand. They treated the area as a recreation area of sorts. There were two tables pushed together surrounded by mismatching chairs. A pair of clothes lines hung nearby as well, fluttering with clothes drying in the hot sun. The pull-up bar and set of weights near the wall peaked his interest slightly.
"I was expecting the boys to fighting out here right now, especially Goku. They must be busy. I'm sure you will meet them at some point today."
"Fighting?" That caught his attention.
"Mmhm," She nodded towards the crates in the distance littered with twisted and bent aluminum cans, "And target practice sometimes. The boys are obsessed with martial arts it seems, they spar every day. Or wrestle. That's what it looks like to me anyways. Tights and I don't participate so much. Chichi did a lot before Gohan was born, but now it's every once in a while. Why? Do you dabble in art of throwing fists or whatever?"
He scoffed, "I'm very adept. I doubt anyone here could best me."
"Ha!" Bulma laughed loudly, "I'm sure Goku will give you a run for your money. He's a marvel to watch."
"Unlikely." Vegeta growled, wondering to himself who this Goku person was that she kept referring to.
Bulma laughed again, much to his annoyance and continued towards what seemed to be the front of the building. What stood before him was an enormous gate, flanked by two even taller towers, ladders leading to their core.
"This is where you will be spending most your time," Bulma nodded towards the towers, "We need round the clock surveillance, in case of an attack or the trade routes. This is the only entrance to this place, so the scouts see every person who comes in and out of the plant's property."
"Hn. Trade routes?"
"Yes, Gohan takes care of a lot of that. If the scout identifies someone as a caravan we trade with, the 'Bell Tower' scout will ring the bell once," She points to the right tower, "Gohan will greet them at the entrance and proceed with the trades. Sometimes we get caps, sometimes goods like that soap you washed yourself with."
At the sound of his name, a small boy pushed open the doors and stepped out of the compound. Not counting his spikey jet black hair, he stood barely under Vegeta's chest.
"Hi, Bulma!" He hopped over to the girl, receiving a hand through his hair, "It's been a busy morning. Three trade caravans already came through! I got Mom more spices for our food! Isn't that exciting?"
Bulma flashed him a wide grin, ruffling his hair more, "That's great! I'm excited to see what you procured this time. Gohan, this is Vegeta. He's the man your dad carried in the other night. He's going to be staying with us for a while, helping out with scout duty."
"That's great! Maybe that means Dad can play with me more! Nice to meet your Mr. Vegeta," He extended a hand out to the taller man.
Vegeta shook his head disapprovingly, ignoring the kids hand held out to him, "You have a kid taking care of this? I'm surprised this place hasn't been infiltrated yet with some raiders posed as caravan traders."
Gohan answered before Bulma had the chance, "Actually, Mr. Vegeta we only take in pre-existing contracted caravans. We have a special code the scouts use to identify friendly caravans. If we encounter an unknown, Bell Tower rings the bell twice. Bulma or Tights will come up and deal with that outside the walls."
Vegeta snorted, "That's not much of an improvement."
Bulma groaned, "Don't listen to him, Gohan. He's an ass." She gasped and covered her mouth. "Sorry, kid."
"I won't tell Mom." He smiled and turned on his heel, "It was nice to meet you Mr. Vegeta. Those are a lot of nice guns you have. I'm going to go back to counting inventory now!"
As he ran back into the compound, Bulma shook her head, "He's a good kid. Try to not direct your brashness in his direction at the very least. His mother is… a character."
Vegeta only grunted in response.
"Anyways, as Gohan said, unknowns mean Bell Tower rings twice. However, you keep your rifles pointed at them just in case things get nasty. If you encounter hostiles, shoot on contact. Hostile group, human or feral, or a Claw means three rings from Bell Tower. That'll call for back up from us in the compound. We're all skilled with a gun, including Gohan." She lifted her coat to show a fusion cored pistol tucked in her pants, "Rigged her up myself. Everyone is packing here, so that shouldn't be a problem. Plus mole rats sometimes find their way in so stay on your toes."
"I travel the wastes, I promise mole rats are not something that keep me up at night." Vegeta grumbled, "Is that it?"
"Almost. We do one hour shifts in the towers, each. You start from Bell Tower and then when you're rotated, you move to the left tower. Two hours is a long time, but I makes it so everyone else has downtime. The boys primarily take care of the day time. At night we only have one scout stationed in Bell Tower. Everyone takes a shift then so that we can get decent sleep, even me. The middle of the night is worst because your sleep is cut in half, but it's necessary for everyone's safety."
"Why don't you women pull your weight like the men and scout all the time," he said, intentionally making the word "women" sound accusatory.
Sighing, Bulma placed her hands on her hips, "Because we all have things to do to keep this place running! Tight and I manage the plant because we are the only ones who know all the inner working of filters and purifiers. Chichi is the only one here who can cook and make anything with the shit ingredients we find in the wastes, and she slaves over keeping the place semi clean when she isn't doing that, Mister!" She jabbed a finger into his chest, causing him to step back, "And!" She reached to jab him again, "I'm an inventor. A scientist. An engineer! Everything that is functioning here is because I fitted it myself. I'm constantly fixing or inventing a way for this place, which in no way was meant to house people, to be more tolerable and comfortable place to live!"
He grabbed her wrist when she reached to stab him again with her finger, "Enough. I get it. You have an overinflated sense of ego."
She ripped her hand away from him, "I do not!"
"Uh huh. Are we done here? I'd like to go sit somewhere in silence where I don't have to hear your shrill voice shrieking in my ear."
It was almost amusing to Vegeta to watch her fume internally at his insults. He smirked as she attempted to swing at him, only to miss due to her predictability.
"You're such an asshole, you know that?!" She snarled, pale face flushing red. "I swear to the fucking mocking god in the sky that if Goku had not convinced me with his stupid childlike manner to let you live here, I'd have you out on your ass right now!"
Vegeta raised an eyebrow at her at that last part. Goku is the reason why he is here? What did this Goku want with him?
Bulma let out a heavy breath, likely trying to calm herself down. She raked her fingernails through her hair, again. "Just… follow me." She grumbled to herself as she pushed passed the doors into the compound and stomped down the hall. Vegeta followed, but kept a reasonable distance from the being in front of him, who he was beginning to believe was insane.
The hallway opened up to a vast room with a large metal table surrounded by chairs in the corner, a torn old couch, and what he assumed was the kitchen.
Suddenly a head peaked up from behind a counter, staring at the two.
"Hi, Chichi! This is Vege-"
Vegeta ducked barely in time to miss the metal spatula soaring towards his head.
"How dare you not eat the food I prepared for you! Do you know how hard it is to come across decent-"Chichi's voice fell the second she noticed Vegeta's outward stretched hand holding his pistol pointing directly at her. She screeched and shouted, "Drop the gun, you lunatic!"
"Don't fucking move," he ordered, "Hands where I can see them!" Though if Vegeta was being honest with himself, he was only seeing burning white. His heartbeat quickened, the hammering veiling his hearing. The adrenaline worked its way through his veins like a snake.
Chichi followed his command and moved her hands above her chest. Bulma made quick work of dropping her hands on his waiting weapon, throwing his clothes on the ground. "Relax, Vegeta! It's just a spatula! Drop your gun!"
At her touch, he snapped out of the trance he was in. Breathing heavy, he lowered his pistol slowly, Bulma's gentle hands feeling heavy on his gloved ones. He could feel Bulma's eyes boring into him. He suddenly felt very hot.
Sighing in relief, Chichi raised her voice again, "How dare you! Coming into our home slinging that pistol around! Bulma I have no idea what you were thinking bringing him-"
"Chichi," Bulma said in an even voice, "Please stop yelling. Vegeta is… paranoid. He spent a lot of time in wastes. Let him be."
"Bulma you're insane. He pointed a gun at me!"
The argument between the girls sounded distant as Vegeta stared hard at his hands still gripping the pistol. They trembled slightly, as his vision wavered. Had he commanded his hands to pull his gun out? He could not remember anymore.
"Bulma." Vegeta let his hand holding the cold metal drop to his side, "I need to… "His voice failed him, words trailing off.
Both women stopped talking, and Bulma looked at Vegeta again. He brought a hand to the bridge of his nose, wondering if she would yell at him again.
Instead, she just nodded, "Of course. You should be resting still. I'll show you to where you're sleeping."
"Bulma…" Chichi shook her head, the beginning of her preamble to a protest from what he could tell.
"Chichi, we can talk later. Vegeta follow me. The stairwell is past these doors." She reached to grab his forearm but stopped herself short, perhaps thinking better of it. She walked towards the doorway, and he followed quietly, stuffing the offending pistol in its holster.
They walked up two flights of stairs to the third floor, where she led him down another long hall way. They remained in silence until she reached a door near the end of the hallway. She turned the knob and opened the door into a room that held a double bed, a small metal desk and a wall of books stacked on top of each other, creating little towers protecting the room.
"This is your room. We don't have any room in the boys' room to spare. Goku and his family share a room; those are on the floor below us, and Tights and I have our own rooms since well... we've been here the longest I guess." Bulma said quietly for reasons unknown to Vegeta.
"Hn. And this room?"
"My father's, before he passed about six years ago. Nobody has been in it since then. Guess I have not had the heart to give it up yet," She paused for a moment, staring at the bed and its blue patched blankets. "Anyways. It's yours. Sorry for the mess. The books are mine. I kind of ran out space in my room."
"Hn." He sat down on the bed, removing his shotgun and bag from his back and setting them on the bed. He took off his belt as well, but left his chest holster secured.
The air in the room felt uncomfortable and heavy as he began to untie his boots.
He looked up at her, catching her staring again.
"Oh." Bulma shook her head, laughing nervously, "Rest. Please. I'll go grab you some water."
She quickly turned the disappeared out of sight, shutting the door behind her and leaving Vegeta to his thoughts.
He lied down on his back, his head resting on the flat pillows.
Staying with these people… Many of which he had yet to meet.
Was this a good idea?
Though, a bed and clean clothes felt nice.
Comfortable.
He had not felt that in some time.
Bulma took her time fetching the water she had promised, her brain racing with thoughts, conflicting ones.
The rational ones told her that this man was very dangerous. He was reactive, violent, and rude to boot. They should just kick him out right then and there. He's threatened two people today already. That should give Goku reason enough to listen to her.
But then, she knew deep down there was not something quite right with this one. His edginess, the ministrations he took to secure every bit of gear he had, and the look of constant anxiety she knew she saw in his eyes. She even swore she saw him counting the bullets in his gun, as if he thought she would steal them while he was showering. It was no run of the mill paranoia. Perhaps, if they earned his trust, he would become better.
"I trust no one."
She shuddered, remembering the hand that had encircled around her neck not that long ago. Perhaps she would talk to Goku again.
She trekked back up the stairs, a hard plastic bottle fitted beneath her grip. She was slow down the hallway, perhaps self-preservation kicking in.
Stopping in front of the door, she took a deep breath and cracked the door slightly, fearing that knocking would wake him. She peered in, smiling when she realized he had fallen asleep. She stepped into the room and set the water down on the desk.
Cursing her curiosity, she stepped towards his bed, watching him as he snored quietly.
He looks so peaceful. Unlike the awake version of himself.
Beside herself, she allowed her eyes to trail around the sleeping form in front of her. His face caught her attention. His dark eyelashes. The wideness and gauntness of his jaw. The natural and sun bored bronze across his features. He was thin, likely malnourished but still strong.
He's quite handsome. When his hand isn't around my throat anyways.
Realizing what she just said, she shook her head. In a quiet resolve, she reached for the notepad on the desk and scribbled a note on it, then abandoning it and retreating for the hallway.
Vegeta
Try to drink more fluids (promise it is not poisoned). You will feel less lightheaded. When you are rested, come downstairs. Maybe this time you can meet someone without threatening them. Okay?
Bulma
As Bulma descended down the stairs again, she suddenly felt ashamed of writing that note. Thoughts plagued her such as, whether or not he could read. Not many people were literate in the wastes except for Vault Dwellers. In fact, she taught many of people who resided there how to read and write.
She sighed. Would he be angry that she was so presumptuous? Would he threaten her again?
Deciding to sneak past the kitchen to avoid contact with Chichi, she made her way to the common room to find Krillin drinking from his own canteen of water. She made her way over to coffee maker to soothe her tired brain.
"Hey Bulma, Tights told me our new resident woke up. How is he?" Krillin asked before taking another swig of water.
Bulma stared into her coffee mug as she filled it up, watching the coffee swirl into a vortex at the bottom, "Sleeping again. He's still adjusting… I guess you could say. Do you know where Goku is? Is he still in the towers?"
"Goku's outside. Just finished actually. He sounds pretty excited to meet this guy."
"Huh. That so?" She grumbled before taking her coffee outside into the Yard.
Not surprising her in the slightest, Goku was hanging onto the pull-up bar, ankles crossed over each other, pulling himself up and down swiftly as though he wasn't carrying much weight at all. He caught eye of Bulma as she shut the door behind her, dropping to the ground with a hard thud with his boots.
"Bulma! Good to see you!" He flashed her a toothy grin, a face she always called dumb yet always found endearing at the same time.
"Hey Goku," She smiled back, "Have some time to talk? Or are you busy?" The question was more of a formality; she knew Goku rarely did important things other than eat, scout and workout. He was a simple man.
He shook his head, "Of course we can talk. Hey! Is that guy awake yet?"
"He was for a little while. I managed to take him around the property a bit. He is sleeping again though. He's kinda what I wanted to talk about, actually," she said, feeling a little sheepish.
Nodding, Goku led Bulma over to a table, and they sat across from each other. The expression on his face became more serious. "What is it?"
"Well," Bulma stared down at her hands, "I'm a little worried about him, Goku. He's a little…off."
"What do you mean?"
She pulled some of her hair behind her ear, "He's very reactive. He reaches for his gun at a drop of a hat. On top of that, he carries four guns on his person all the time. If you touch him, he tries to strangle you. If you throw a spatula at him, he has you at gun point! I think he's really dangerous, Goku."
Goku raised an eyebrow at her, perhaps catching on to her bizarrely specific examples, "I can see where you would be worried. But give him some time! He's just a little shaken up by the radiation, I'm sure."
"Goku," Bulma stared at him hard, "Why is it so important to you that Vegeta stays?"
At the sound of their new resident's name, Goku visibly shifts in his seat.
"Vegeta is his name, huh," he trailed off, staring past her into space.
"Goku," she said again, this time louder.
The younger man reached behind his head and scratched it, "It's just… he looks so familiar."
"From where?"
"Before…" he began fidgeting a bit.
Bulma raised an eyebrow at his response, "Before? I thought you didn't remember anything from before you came here."
"I don't, but something about him stands out, you know? Maybe he can help me piece together something."
"Goku… I don't know."
"Bulma," he said, his voice pleading now, "Please give him a chance?"
At that moment, Bulma knew Goku had her cornered. He rarely asked for anything other than to be fed, and while that was a demanding task on its own, she found her heart melting at the sight of him begging her.
Groaning loudly, she stood up from her chair, "Fine."
"Really?" His brown eyes brightened as he shot up from his chair.
"It's a trial basis, Goku."
"Sure, Bulma! Thanks!" He rounded the corner of the table and scooped Bulma up in his arms for a bear hug, lifting her boots off the ground just slightly.
A weak noise escaped Bulma's lips as Goku squeezed the air out of her lungs, but she grinned none the less.
Saying no was useless to this overgrown child.
Feeling groggy, Vegeta rolled off the bed, clutching his pounding head. He sat on the edge of the bed, grumbling a string of swears under his breath. His stomach curled and twist in waves, and he doubled over, arms wrapped around his midsection.
Had he really fallen asleep so easily and so deeply? The thought itself made him want to vomit. Someone could have killed him, attacked him in his off guard state, something… An arm unwound from his gut and subconsciously reached for the gun he had on his chest. He was alive though. Everything was here that was his. His thoughts clouded as the pain came over him in another wave.
His sleep was dreamless, and he found himself thankful for that.
When the pain from his gut subsided, he sat up, staring at the walls. He looked around, reminding himself of his surroundings. The blue haired woman had brought him to this room, claiming it as something he could call his own. The thought made him scoff.
He dug a hand into his pocket and reached for his pocket watch, checking for the time.
1825? Fuck, it is late. He sighed, stuffing the gold watch back in his pocket.
In the corner of his eye, he saw the tall plastic bottle with a black top filled with water sat on a metal desk and remembered the thirst that never seemed to leave him.
He stood from the bed and walked over to the desk, feeling the cold tiles on his feet. He picked up the water bottle to examine it and caught sight of the note stuck underneath it. After reading it, he shook his head and casted the torn piece of paper to the side and regarded the plastic bottle in his hand.
It was not poisoned before, he thought to himself, while his hand betrayed him and reached for the lid of the water bottle.
He was so thirsty.
Casting aside doubt, he tore the lid and brought the bottle to his lips, taking a long swig. As he brought the bottle down, he wiped the sliding drip from the corner of his mouth. The coldness was satisfying down his throat, and it cooled the burn in his stomach slightly.
The taste was still clear. There was no grit nor burn.
The man took another long drink before returning the lid to the top of the bottle. Tucking the bottle under his arm, he walked back over to the bed to put his boots back on.
He needed to get the fuck out of this place.
Everything about this place made him uneasy yet somewhat at peace at the same time, and that made him feel uncomfortable. He could not understand why everything was so perfect here. This was a perfect for the Empire to appropriate. It was only a matter of time.
Nervously, he ran his fingers through his hair, which no longer felt dirty.
He needed to face this demon. He could not stay here. Staying in one place would be too dangerous. It would not be long before one of the other fire squads would find him.
Were they looking for him though? Vegeta dug his nails deeper in his skull, He was dead as far as they knew.
Reaching for his bag and shot gun, he grunted shrugging the items back on his back. The thought made him feel cowardly, and that weighed heavy on his pride. He grabbed his belt and secured it on his waist and made his way out the door.
The hallway was pitch black, but he faintly remembered the path Bulma took him to get to the room. It was straight to the stairs where he descended down them, following a light. He remembered the stairwell led straight to the kitchen, however he was not expecting it to be full of people when he pushed past the doors.
Everyone stopped what they were doing in the kitchen to stare at him, their eyes feeling like tracking lasers pointing right at him. Vegeta scanned the room, catching sight of the people he had met today: Bulma sitting at the table next to Tights, Gohan holding a large bowl full of - what he presumed - food, and the other woman he met earlier today was glaring at him from. Three other men stood in various parts of the kitchen, none of which gave him a friendly looks.
He found himself searching for Bulma's gaze for some sort of help.
Catching on, Bulma stood up, laughing nervously as she walked over to Vegeta.
"Vegeta! You're awake. You sure slept a long time," She said awkwardly.
Not responding to her, Vegeta narrowed his eyes at all the people still staring at him. He balled his fists, an effort to keep them off his pistol.
Bulma noticed his strain, much to his surprise, and intervened quickly. "Everyone. This is Vegeta. He is going to be here helping us for a little while."
There was a brief moment of only soft breathing and the buzz from the dim lights being heard before Chichi and Gohan returned to what they were doing. Tights stood up and grabbed the bowl from Gohan, but kept her eyes on the visibly nervous Bulma.
Bulma stretched her arm in one of the bald male's direction, "This is Krillin." She moved to point to the other bald one with an eye tattooed to his forehead, "Tienshinhan, but we call him Tien," then she motioned to last male who he did not recognize with a scar across his face, "And Yamcha."
The first one she introduced spoke before the others, "Um, hello Vegeta. Welcome." His voice was shaky and awkward, but he did not sense ill intent from it.
Vegeta only grunted in response.
The other two men remained silent, not removing their stares from him. Instead, they made their weapons glaringly obvious to him. The desire to leave this building only grew in the pit of his stomach.
Bulma spoke up again, "The only person we're missing is Goku, since he is up in the tower. We're about to start family dinner. We all gather to eat so we can spend some time together. Usually one of us will take turns on lookout so that we can all enjoy family dinner."
The smell of food became more obvious to him as it invaded his nose, causing his already yearning stomach to ache more, but he did not show it. He looked at Bulma, considering her for a moment before looking back at the other people who surrounded him.
"Hn. Not interested," he readjusted his bag and took a step towards the door, only to have Bulma step in front of him.
"Why not?" She almost demanded, "Where are you going?"
"Fresh air," it was not totally a lie, though if it was he did not care.
"But aren't you hun-" she started, but Chichi cut her off.
"Let him go, Bulma," the dark haired woman turned to him, "If you're not going to eat with us then you should go start your job and let Goku come in."
"Chichi," Bulma shook her head at the other woman.
Vegeta shook his head and pushed past Bulma and stepped outside, relishing in the cold breeze after being in the hot room. He kept walking towards the front of the compound, checking behind his shoulder to see if someone was following him. When he approached the front grate, he searched for a potential exit from the place. The gate was several yards taller than he of heavy steel, which slid to be locked from the side. He groaned audibly, wondering how he would unlock the gate.
The night was chilled as many nights were in the wastes, but there was no wind to pick up the soft dirt that covered the property in miles. It was not displeasing to Vegeta.
"Hey! You're the new guy, huh! Vegeta, right?" A voice called up from Bell Tower. Annoyed, Vegeta looked up at the form waving at him through the large open windows in the tower.
At that moment the cold air caught his breath, as his astonishment caused him to take a step back.
The spiky black hair.
The familiar features.
"Bardock?" Vegeta questioned out loud, wondering if the radiation poisoning truly had messed with his brain.
"Who? No, my name is Goku!" He called down and then disappeared from the window.
Vegeta grabbed the bridge of his nose, cursing himself. Bardock was dead. His entire fire squad was dead. He remembered hearing the news from a visibly distraught Raditz. Why was he seeing Bardock?
Hearing a loud thud, Vegeta peered through his hands to see Goku running up to him from the ladder that led up to the tower.
"Who is Bardock?" He asked, trying to look up from under Vegeta's hands.
"Nobody," Vegeta sneered, moving his hand to get a better look at his face. Yet his vision was not deceiving him; this man did look an awful lot like Bardock, "Where do you come from?"
Goku ran his hand through his hair, "Honestly, I don't know. I don't really remember much before coming here. I just woke up at someone's house one day when I was really young, and he called me Goku."
Vegeta rolled his eyes, scoffing loudly. That information was useless to him.
"Why?" Goku asked, "Where do you come from?"
"Nowhere," Vegeta snapped quickly.
"Oh," Goku's face fell, "You don't know either? Damn. I thought…" The man's voice trailed off as he looked past Vegeta.
"You thought what?"
Goku shrugged, "I don't know. You seemed familiar is all. Maybe my memory is just messing with me. Sometimes I think I remember bits, but in reality I don't know if they are real or not." He laughed and turned on his heel, "I should probably get back to work."
Seemed familiar? Vegeta felt his mind spinning. Why would this man who he initially thought looked like Bardock think he looked familiar?
As he saw Goku walking back to the tower, he found himself calling out, "Hey! Wait!"
Goku turned and looked behind him, "What's up?"
"That woman wants you to eat inside. I'll… take a shift," he said, not entirely sure why he said what he did.
"Really? You sure?" Goku said, almost overtly excited.
"Yes," He huffed, walking up to the ladder where Goku stood.
"Wow! Thanks! Hey Vegeta, let me know if you think you remember something about me. I'd appreciate it!" Goku grinned wide, reaching to pat Vegeta on the back, but missed because of the shorter man stepping back.
"Sure," he spat out and reached to grab the rungs on the ladder.
"Oh," Goku said suddenly, "Could you maybe not tell anyone about this conversation? I'm not sure if I want anyone to know yet."
Feeling annoyed, Vegeta kept climbing up the ladder, only spitting out an, "Uh huh."
"Thanks! It was nice meeting you Vegeta!" Goku yelled and then turned to run towards the compound doors.
Thankful for the silence, Vegeta reached the top of the tower and pulled himself up into the small hut. He pulled off his bag and set it in the corner and sat down on the wooden bench. A thick wool blanket sat folded on the other end of the bench and neatly sat on the edge was an unblemished scoped sniper rifle. He grabbed the gun and examined it, wondering if this was the weapon used for scouting the walls. When he moved his foot, the answer became obvious as he nudged a tower of boxes full of ammunition.
He sat the rifle in his lap stared out at the expanse of land before him. The wastes were depressingly flat, sand for miles and miles. Yet there was something satisfying about looking down on it as opposed to the other way around, which he felt often.
He initially had no intention to be in the tower, but something about meeting Goku made him stay, even if he did not totally understand it. His curiosity fought and won against his own paranoia because if there was hope that there was someone like him left-
It was worth it to stay.
An hour had passed when Vegeta heard the ladder connected from the center of the tower tremble and creak, causing him to jump up from the wooden bench, reaching for his chest holster. He peered down the hole and caught sight of blue hair, something which he was seeing often today. Sighing, he sat back down on the bench as Bulma pulled herself up from the ladder.
The smell of food hit him again quickly, and he turned to see she was balancing two plates piled with various combinations of food. They made eye contact briefly, and Vegeta wondered why there was a hint of nervousness in her eyes.
"I brought you some food. I thought maybe you'd be hungry after today," she said as she set down the two plates on the bench.
"Hn," Vegeta grunted in response before turning back to continue watching the landscape.
"Do you still have that plastic bottle I left you?" She asked, pulling out a large sealed container of water out from under her arm.
Nodding, Vegeta reached underneath the bench and handed her the empty bottle.
She began refilling the bottle from the larger one, "I know it can be kind of hard to get used to everything here. I think you'll find yourself at home after a while."
Vegeta only scoffed in response to that, wondering to himself if the woman was even present when he walked into the kitchen.
She set the filled bottle next to the plates of food, and then continued watching him from behind.
"You have a staring problem," Vegeta grumbled.
Bulma let out and audible gasp and crossed her arm indignantly, "I do not!"
"You haven't stopped staring at me all day."
She shook her head and gestured towards the two plates, "Aren't you going to eat?"
"Why? So you could watch me do that too?"
Groaning in what he presumed to be annoyance, "No! I just want you to eat the food! We can't afford to waste food!"
Vegeta shrugged, "I might."
"Ugh!" She scoffed and grabbed a fork that had been perfectly balanced on the edge of the plate and scooped up a large pile of mashed root vegetable and arched her body just so that Vegeta could see her from his seated positioned. She growled, "See!" and stuffed the food in her mouth and chewed a few times before swallowing, "Not poisoned!"
Vegeta eyed her for a moment, as she attempted to look menacing with a fork in her hand. They held that stare for a moment before he said, "Have you experienced a significant amount of radiation exposure in your life?"
Baffled, she sat the fork back down on the plate and placed her hands on her hips, "No, why do you ask?"
"Huh," he huffed, "Can't for the life of me figure out how anyone could have fucking blue hair. That's all."
Making another indignant noise, Bulma stomped over to the ladder and began fitting her feet back into the rungs, "You- you prick! And what about your height? Talk about radiation poisoning!" And with that, she descended the ladder amidst swears and inaudible grouses.
Feeling a little bemused with himself, Vegeta reached for a plate and the fork that was pointed so threateningly at him. With it, he scooped up a pile of food and with slight hesitation, began eating.
I'm SO SORRY this took so long to upload. As you can tell, it's much longer than the other two chapters. There is a lot going on, and I hope it was more exciting to read. Thank you everyone for the reviews so far! It's been a great motivator! As for the questions about Fallout, yes this story is very influenced by Fallout, but it's not the same universe. I decided the two world did not quite fit together properly for my story, but there are a lot of elements from the game.
Thank you again! And please leave comments! I'd love to hear feedback, criticism or praise!
