Dropping quickly next to the wreckage of the airplane, Vegeta made his way around the twisted metal. There were very few corpses in what was left of the vehicle, but the island smelled of death and burning flesh all the same. Forcing the memories back that were creeping forward, the Saiyan prince closed his eyes and attempted to sense the energy he'd felt before his descent. Making sure he had a good lock on it, he took off in to the sky once again, heading for the tiny flicker of essence.
His feet touched the ground before the opening of the cave gracefully, his muscles adjusting to holding his body upright. He narrowed his eyes as he looked into the passage, unsure of what he would find inside. He knew it was the woman, sure enough, but she had been stranded on this island for close to three weeks. He tried to brace himself for any situation as he took a few steps inside, the slight noise bouncing off the cavern walls.
The sound started the sleeping heiress, but in her current state found it difficult to move quickly. Squinting through the sleep still in her eyes, she gazed at the cave opening. She took note that night had finally fallen, the sounds of the insect life echoing in to her home. The next thing she noticed were the sound of footsteps.
Moving as quickly as she could push herself to, she grabbed her makeshift knife from the ground next to her bedding and held it defensively in her hand. She had no idea what could be coming in after her, and she wasn't going to let herself be a sitting duck. Clamping her eyes shut quickly in attempt to ward off the lingering feelings of sleep, she watched a figure walk closer to her.
Vegeta stood a few feet away from the woman, taking in the sight before him. She was clearly starving, her fair skin was much paler than usual, and her clothes hung from her frame in a way he'd never seen before. In her vanity, she always chose clothes that hugged her figure, and he knew that the outfit she'd left the compound in that day did just that. He noticed the remaining stains of blood in her shirt. It appeared that she'd tried to wash her clothing to the best of her ability, but the coppery stains left by her blood remained plainly in the fabric. Her blue hair was disheveled and not exactly clean. He noticed that most of the ridiculous curls she had kept in it for style had worked their way out, leaving it longer and mostly wavy. He forced back a smile at the surely reluctant change in her locks, slightly admiring the way longer hair looked on her. He continued to study her, noticing the deep puncture wound at her side, and the many superficial wounds that had healed into faint scars.
He internally scolded himself. Had he forced the woman to let him go with her, none of this would have happened. She could have been home for all this time, healthy and happy and back to her annoying self. Noticing the length of his silence and the way the blue haired female had her knife clenched in her fist, he spoke.
"You look like hell, woman..." he forced out.
"Vegeta...?" Bulma whispered, taking half a step back in her shock. "Am I imagining you, or are you really here..?"
"Of course it's me." he snapped, though not in his usual harsh tone. It was softer somehow. He watched the woman's face go through a series of changes as she shuffled through her emotions. Folding his arms over his chest, he watched the frail heiress take a few steps toward him.
"Oh, Vegeta..." she mumbled, her lips curling into a soft smile. "You came to look for me." She lifted her arm to reach out to the man, placing the tips of her pointer and middle fingers to drag along the man's face. "You really are here..."
The dark prince didn't have much of a reply, but caught himself looking gently at the woman. Bringing his own hand to hers, he wrapped it around her petite wrist, but didn't force her to move her fingers. "Let me have a look at your injuries..."
Bulma nodded a little in agreement and walked back to the fire, sitting closely by. Forcing away her embarrassment, she lifted her tattered shirt to expose her midriff to the man. Her blue eyes watched intently as he made his way to her, kneeling next to her.
"How did this happen..?" he asked, letting his voice trail off as he examined her.
"When the plane crashed, I had to jump..." she recollected, feeling the tears rush to the corners of her eyes. She shut them tightly and continued, "When I got to the top of the forest canopy, my parachute got ripped open by the branches and I... Fell to the ground.."
The man's eyes had drifted to Bulma's face, taking in her expressions as she told him, before snapping back to the injury.
"I did all I could to keep it clean... I don't know what... It looks like internally..." she sniffled, bringing her hand to her face to hide her tears.
"It looks like you might have a slight infection," he began, pressing his hand flush against her skin, which was hot to the touch. "But other than that it seems it's healed well... Have you any other complaints?"
"No, this is the only thing that's caused me any real trouble..."
The Saiyan nodded, sitting next to the heiress. For some reason he felt as if he needed to keep up some sort of façade, though he knew that there was no one else there with them. He put his elbows on his knees as he, too, sat cross-legged by the fire, huffing a little as he could no longer keep his thoughts at bay.
"Damn it, Bulma! If you had let me come with you I could have kept this all from happening! I could have protected you!" he said, his voice ringing in his own ears as it bounced from the walls.
"Vegeta..." she began, her brow furrowing as she attempted to go on, but was cut off.
"I could have kept you safe... I could have kept you from going through this hell, kept you from getting hurt."
Bulma blinked a few times. He had called her by her first name. She found that it bounced around in her hunger-addled mind for longer than necessary. Her blue eyes quickly locked on to his dark ones. "I told you I wanted to go on my own..." she replied softly, scooting over so that she was only a foot or so from her savior. He was truly worried about her. Her cobalt eyes watched as his face twisted up as if he were about to weep, but no tears came. "You know we would have both been miserable..." She reached over and grabbed his hand with her own, gripping it reassuringly. "It's not your fault, please... Don't blame yourself for this... Please, don't feel guilty... You have too many burdens to bear..."
She felt the pressure of the man returning the squeeze of his hand, and watched him raise his gaze from the flickering flames. Their eyes locked, and she felt her pale face flush a bit as he peered at her. She looked down at her hand as the man pulled it toward himself, as if requesting her to come closer.
Before she had any time to think, she was pulled into Vegeta's lap, her face only inches from his own. His hot breath on her face caused a shiver to run down her spine.
"You're lucky I found you before Kakarot had a chance to..." he murmured, pressing his forehead to hers.
She couldn't take it anymore. She pressed her lips hungrily against the prince's, who welcomed it happily. Sliding his hands up her back, he held her to him, almost afraid to ever let her go.