~ discalimer: I own nothing except my brain. Don't take that away from poor little me !
~A/N: Soooo. Been a while but oh well. But here's a very long chapter and my first attempt at writing a fighting scene! Gah :S In other news, I'm off to Uni this week, so my stories? Gonna be hard to write. But I WILL try my hardest to keep them updated/new, I swear x
~R&R please x
The first thing Bulma could feel was something cold and wet sticking to her forehead. She tried to move her arms to lift it off when the freezing liquid dripped down her face where it followed the curve of her jaw line and neck. It sent a faint shiver down her spine. In sheer determination to move the icy lump from her brow, she lolled her head to the side and back in a vain attempt to shake it off. It only left her with a pounding headache. Suddenly the cold thing wasn't so bad.
None too gently, her pillow back to move before breaking out in peals of joy. "Oh my, she's waking up! Sweetie? Can you hear me?"
"Yes, can you hear us, daughter?"
Groaning not just because of her headache, Bulma eventually opened her blue eye. Above her, silhouetted with her blurry vision, were her parents. As her vision fully returned and her eyes darted around her, she saw that she was now in the comfort of her own room, the windows now a deep orange from the setting sun. But was she not just in the desert? She was, and it was daytime. And her mother and father most defiantly weren't there, she was with-
"Vegeta!" Flinging herself forward, all she accomplished was another round of dizziness. He mother pressed gently on the cold compress on her daughters head whilst pushing her back down on the bed.
"He's not here, Bulma."
"Where is he? Seriously I don't remember a thing!"
"We don't know sweetheart."
Dr Briefs made his way to the window, pulling back the blind just enough to watch the world go by. "According to those Piccolo and Te'oboe chaps, he just decided to leave." He gave a small shrug. "I'll admit, from what little I saw of the boy, I'm rather surprised it took him so long. He didn't appear to be very happy here."
He's not happy full stop, Bulma internally rolled her eyes before she remembered something. "Wait, why were Piccolo and Te'oboe there? And how come I was asleep through all of it?"
Her mother and father glance uneasily at each other. "Bulma, we don't even know as to how you became unconscious."
"When we heard your distress signal, we dropped everything and ran to the garages. We'd only just finished talking to Te'oboe when it happened. That nice young man insisted that he come with us right after he got Piccolo."
Bulma's stomach dropped. If she had been standing, she would have fallen to the floor and blacked out again. If she sent out a distress signal whilst in the middle of nowhere with that psycho only to have two strong Namekiens (particularly Piccolo- what army wouldn't love to have him) arrive at the scene, then god-only-knows how bad things had got.
The worst part was she couldn't even remember it.
"I- but when did I… how?" she stuttered. Underneath her shock was an ever-increasing sense of confusion and, of course, a little bit of anger. "Where is Piccolo now?"
"He's meditating in the forest part of the Namekien compound, but honey, you really ought to-"
"No. I have to know, Dad. I have to now right now."
Nothing. Think of nothing. Think of nothing except the trees. Think of nothing except the wind in the trees. Think of nothing. Feel the light. Feel the light running through your veins. Feel the light pass from your crown to your toes. Feel the light drive away the black energy; drive it deep into the ground. Open your mind, open your mind. Feel the light, think of nothing.
This Piccolo would chant in his mind before each meditation as a cleansing ritual. Once his mind was free of troubles, he could lose himself in peace for days at a time. And goodness did he need that now.
Nothing. Think of nothing. Think of nothing except the trees. Think of nothing except the wind in the trees—
To the side of him, the bushes rustled as their green leaves turn almost black in the night. The Namekien ignored his visitor and levitated himself a little bit higher, hoping it'd go away. The shadowy figure remained until it gave a self-conscious cough. He could put this off any longer
"Piccolo. There is something that I need to ask of you."
Looking down from his seat in mid air to see Te'oboe watching him with a blank expression. Although Piccolo was younger than him, Te'oboe had lived a sheltered life. He was far more peaceful than most other Namekiens Piccolo ever known. Had he the brains, he'd have made an excellent leader like Guru. However, Te'oboe was happy to play music, carry out his assigned chores and make friends as easy a he could breathe.
The lad reminded him of Goku. Just without the battle scars and less idiotic.
"What is it?"
Te'oboe continued to grasp the hem of his tunic.
"I cannot help you if you won't tell me. Though I think I already know what it is," Piccolo rumbled. The other alien gawked in alarm. "It's true, isn't it?"
"Yes." Te'oboe's shoulders sank. "It is true. If I may ask, how did you know?"
"I guessed." The other nodded, his cheeks blushing like a little boy who'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "And you don't want Bulma to know?"
"No. Yes." He rubbed the top of his baldhead with uncertainty. "She is my closest friend- what would be better for her?" When the younger Namekien didn't reply, he shook his head, his gaze going to the ground. "At this moment in time, I don't know what to do. She has been seriously distressed today, the last thing she needs is me telling her that I-"
He broke off his sentence when they both herd a twig snapping in the distance. To their radar-like ears, it could have happened right next to them. Luckily, this person would still be a fair distance away.
And both just knew from sheer instinct that it would be Bulma. Great, that's exactly what I need right now, thought Piccolo. Te'oboe took his chance to thank Piccolo and leave. The remaining man waited impatiently for his next visitors arrival. The last thing he need was to explain in detail what the human had missed when she blacked out, but he owed her that much.
He just hoped that afterwards he'd be left alone.
As she was walking through the compound, Bulma realised that she wasn't wearing the same clothes as before. Now she wore her pyjamas, the white one with Hello Kitty plastered printed all over it. Her mother had to have done this. Only Bunny would choose this t dress her unconscious daughter. Bulma preferred shorts and vest tops in deep colours, short nightie satiny smooth to the touch.
Back in her room merely a few minutes ago she felt fearless and hyped up. Now paranoia started to creep its way in. Instinct told her that her mother and father weren't telling her the whole story, their blatant reluctance to talk about it only heightening her suspicion. Along with her changed clothes and mystery surrounding the reason for her unconsciousness, Bulma began to dread hearing the truth.
So lost in thought, she jumped when she saw a tall figure in white ahead, its shape wavering in the summer breeze like a ghost. "Piccolo."
"Bulma." The ghoulish shape turned and transformed back into the ominous alien se had known for years. Although he once struck fear and hatred into her heart, he no longer did. That seat was reserved for someone new.
"Vegeta." Her blue eyes narrowed dangerously. "I know he's involved. What happened to me today."
With his green arms crossed, Piccolo closed his eyes. Yes, he had a feeling that she wouldn't remember. This day was just getting better and better.
"Start off with what you remember last Bulma."
"I- he broke into my lab. He told me about a- a tracking device? Yes, that's right, I had to disarm it. One in the space pod and one in my green scouter- and one in the blue one!" She nodded as she relived the frayed memories.
"But that one was back in the deserts, near to where he first landed here so we went there and disarmed it. I remember because of the solar panel." In the back off her head, she made a mental note to do some more research into that little beauty.
"And after?" prompted the Namekien.
"And after that, we tried out the scouters. He flew one way and I walked the other." The woman gave a small shrug. "That's it. That's all I can remember."
Piccolo grunted. "According to the compound physician, you're suffering form short term amnesia from shock."
"Shock? What from?" Bulma squeaked. Images flashed through her mind. In black and white she saw a barren landscape, void of any life other than the Saiyan who lead her there. In silence he watched his aggressive mouth move with words lost to her. She saw him laugh, she saw him power up a ball burning white light, she saw him grab her wrists as she tried to land a punch on his broad chest-
With shaking hands, she pushed up her sleeve on one arm until it revealed her wrist, once clear and pale like porcelain, now with inky stars blotched across. Five to be precise. With a panicked groan she noticed the mirror image on her other wrist.
"What did he do?" Bulma began to hyperventilate as she ran her hands over her body looking for any more bruises. If she could easily miss the ones on her own wrists, then what other scrapes remained hidden under her concealing sleepwear. Particularly her lower stomach and inner thighs.
Piccolo politely turned away when the woman started to unbutton her shirt. He knew exactly what she was thinking. "He didn't rape you as far as we can tell."
Before she had completely undone her shirt, the frantic woman gawked at him. "Why, what makes you say that?"
"Your clothes were intact for one thing. Plus we don't think that's what caused your shock."
Rolling her blue eyes, Bulma raised her wrist like a prize. "What's this then, a tattoo?"
"No," Piccolo scowled at her snappy tone, "when Te'oboe and I arrived, you were already in your mini-jet and unconscious. You stank of vomit, you were developing bruises and you hair was a mess, but you were fine. We checked."
"What, Te'oboe? What was he doing there."
"Same as me," he mumbled. He lowerdd his voice as he looked straight into her wide eyes. "We both thought he was up to something bad. And we were both concerned for your welfare."
His gaze got deeper. "Honestly, Bulma. What were you thinking, running off to the wilderness alone with him?"
Defensively, Bulma planted her hands on here hips. "There was a tracking device! One that was going to draw attention from the wrong sorts of people! Vegeta took me there to-"
"Vegeta didn't have to take you anywhere, not without back up."
"And would you have taken me?"
"If it meant avoiding this from happening in the first place, then YES!"
Bulma opened her mouth to argue, then snapped shut it again. Finally, she sat on the floor and wiped her eyes when angry tear threatened to fall. "Avoid what from happening? Piccolo, please just tell me…"
"Alright. Here's what happened from my point of view…"
… Under the mid afternoon sun, Piccolo watched as his fellow Namekiens busied themselves with carpentry, farming and leisure. Each one of them flourished in activity of the body and soul, continuing their daily chores to the best of their ability. Today, he had been invited by Moori to teach a group of children the 'ways of the warrior' as he was by far the strongest and most experienced fighter there.
If he struggled with his patience with one kid, just imagine how bad he was with thirty.
As he was yet again about to explain the fluctuations in Ki, he heard his name being bellowed from the other side of the small village, along with several voices protesting against being violently shoved aside. It looked like bowling pins had been replaced by green aliens. The older Namek was out of breath by the time he reached Piccolo. It took him a little longer than expected to get the words out that he so despiratly needed to say. Barely had the story finished when both men powered up and soared into the sky towards the human in need.
With a bang, the two powered down as they landed before the jet. Above them, a pair of booted feet swung themselves over the edge as their owner sat up. With the sun behind him, Vegeta looked even less human (or Saiyan) than usual- his features were lost in shadows, merging with his great mane. His shape looked positively demonic as he looked down upon the new arrivals.
"I was wondering when somebody would show up. Though I have to admit it is a surprise to see you two." He slid off the roof and took two sets towards them with his arms folded across his chest and a eager smile on his now visible face. "Of all the people on this planet, it had to be you."
"And I'm surprised to find you still here," said Piccolo. "Now where is she?"
"Who? Be specific, Namek."
"Bulma," he growled.
Vegeta's smile only broadened. "Doesn't ring a bell."
"You know perfectly well who we are talking about, Saiyan!" shouted Te'oboe. "And you also know where she is- now tell us!"
Slowly turning his head, Vegeta considered the other Namek. Piccolo was the only Namek he could name and he would much rather keep the names to a minimum. But this one was too interesting. "Ooh, getting a bit tetchy, aren't we?"
Desperate to keep the conversation on track, Piccolo spoke over his comrade. "What have you done with her?"
Vegeta's grinning face faltered. His whole expression seemed to flicker like a broken light bulb before settling on pure annoyance. "I have not done anything to her." When he noted the dubious looks the Namekiens shared, he stepped forward and narrowed his eyes into a steely glare. "If you don't believe me, see for yourself," he grumbled. He reached behind him and rapped loudly on the metal wall of the plane behind him.
"Although," he added when Te'oboe made a move towards the door, "she may be resting for awhile. The woman seemed rather- distressed earlier."
"I swear, Vegeta, that if you have harmed her in anyway-"
"Oh, swear all you like, green bean. It was nothing- nothing- to do with me." He chuckled with a dreamy expression. "You know, I had been wondering for a while if it were even possible to make her shut up. The solution is so simple it's almost… amusing."
Te'oboe drew himself to his full height, completely forgetting that, when it came to battles, he was grossly inferior. "You dare laugh when I wipe that smile off your face!"
Piccolo was about to scold him but Vegeta's dark chuckle rung in the air, amused by the playground banter. When he turned his black eyes solely to Te'oboe, Piccolo caught the look that flashed in his eyes- the damage had already been done. Finally, Vegeta spoke gently.
"What's your name, Namek?"
"That," spat Te'oboe, "is none of your concern. I would rather walk on hot coals then have my name fall from your disgusting mouth."
"And I," replied Vegeta sinking into a defensive position, "feel the same way. Unless you spoke my name when pledging your allegiance to me, your overlord!"
That was too much for Te'oboe. With a roar, the peaceful Namekien became a ferocious fighter as he slammed himself into the cocky prince. They ripped straight through the metal walls of the jet and out of the other side, causing the vehicle to sway from side to side violently. Piccolo jumped forward to steady it, taking a moment to dart through the gaping hole. To his right, in plain view, was a clearly safe and sleeping Bulma. No blood, no wounds, just the steady raise and fall of her chest.
Hopping out the other side, Piccolo had already began removing his turban and cloak of brilliant white. Hard eyes scanned the skies to find the two fighters passing blows back and forth. Looking back, he analysed his next move- to join Te'oboe in combat? Or to remove the human from potential danger?
Meanwhile, a hundred feet off the ground, Namek and Saiyan were quickly becoming familiar with each others fists. Te'oboe had grabbed Vegeta's arm to block the oncoming punch aimed at his face, swinging him around to throw him into a nearby pillar of rock. With his opponents next move being obvious, Vegeta used his momentum to get a grip on Te'oboe's shirt and twist them so that Te'oboe landed face first into the stony wall as Vegeta's shield.
He let out a grunt of pain as a particularly sharp piece of flint ripped through his tunic and sliced the delicate green skin in his side. Quickly ramming his elbow into Vegeta's side, surprised when the other fighter leapt back in shock and giving him enough time to dislodge himself from the wall. Having recovered, Te'oboe was about to take another swing at his opponent.
Vegeta beamed with unrestrained excitement. At last, he was finally going to get the fight he so eagerly waited for. They were barely half way through this four month long waiting game and he felt that he was slowly losing it. Never before had he gone this long without battle and now he had some imbecile punching bag to play with. So good things come to those who wait, he thought as he charged at the Namek, and I've waited LONG ENOUGH!
Te'oboe propelled himself from the rock and was ready to block Vegeta's oncoming punch with one of his own when suddenly the Saiyan winked out of sight. He froze in mid air completely dumbstruck as he searched for his rival in every direction. In a heartbeat, he heard a zap and a low chuckle from behind him. Dread and fear filled him in the milliseconds before he felt Vegeta's gloved hands being brought down in a double fist on his spine, sending him crashing towards the ground.
Down below, Piccolo watched the whole battle as if in slow motion. Each move was perfectly carried through with a dancers grace before seamlessly morphing into the next. With his sharp reflexes, Piccolo could see Vegeta's next move a mile away and dove back into the half destructed plane to grasp Bulma's waist and pull her away. He just managed to pull them out before his companion hurtled into the vehicle, leaving nothing but a unrecognisable lump of metal in its place.
Plopping her limp form a great distance away, Piccolo swept the area with sharp eyes. From this angle, he ad a brilliant view of the canyon in which they stood just moments ago- it was identical to the battle field in which he and the other Z warriors had first waged war against that little and large Saiyan. It was here, just months ago, had he fallen in battle to save a little boy. For the first time in his life, Piccolo was part of a group- a group, he reflected, where half of them were still scattered across the sands.
So that solves the mystery of Bulma.
He than hastened to pull the other Namekien out of the ruins. He was about to when the lump of crumpled aircraft was pushed back several feet as Te'oboe launched himself out with a great burst of strength.
"Bastard! You will regret this day!" he roared. Casually levitating in mid air, Vegeta released a dark chuckle.
"You will regret living at all!"
Fisting his hands, the prince started to power up. To summon this much energy after so long was difficult at first, but he soon got into the swing of it again. The relief was immediate and immense- it was like a great weight was slowly being removed, like pins and needles he hadn't noticed before were slowly ebbing away, channelling the tingles to his fingertips. Between this feeling and the sheer joy in escaping the mundane life he had since staying on Earth, he secretly didn't want this day to end.
As more and more power gathered in his palms, he started to form two glowing balls of pale purple light crackling as it grew. He wanted to just blast the fallen Namek below but that would be no fun. He needed the fool to witness his wrath, to feel his skin blister and burn. He wanted the Namek to look into his eyes and realise too late he had made a mistake in challenging him. When he saw his opponent leap from the wreckage, h took his chance and manoeuvred his arms to begin his attack. He'd be watching fireworks in seconds.
Right on Te'oboe's tail, Piccolo foresaw the Saiyans next move and could feel the immense rise in power like static running down his spine. With his new strength, Vegeta could easily blow up the earth ten times over and has every reason to do so. With an annoyed grunt, Piccolo doubled his speed and zoomed straight past Te'oboe and set his sights on Vegeta. After all, he'd already died once; he did not plan on doing it again any time soon.
"Vegeta- stop!"
The buzz of energy surrounding him failed to drown out Vegeta's cruel cackle as he aimed the spheres of Ki right at Te'oboe. They were the size of tennis balls, a brilliant glowing white with purple streams escaping from between his fingers.
"Say your prayers, Nam-!"
From out of nowhere, something fast and powerful collided with him. He had been so focused on Te'oboe that he hadn't noticed something big and green swoop in from underneath and ram its shoulder into Vegeta's unprotected hip with a sickening crunch. Vegeta stifled yelp more in surprise than pain as he spun head over heals even higher in the sky closely followed by both Piccolo and Te'oboe.
He stopped himself and levitated upright. He looked down at his hands and what remained of his gloves. The smooth white fabric looked as if it had been slashed open by burning claws, the edges black with soot and some parts still glowing with sizzling orange embers. His skin looked no different.
Just as he was about fire his attack, Vegeta opened his hands as far as they would go to completely release the wave of unrestrained power. When Piccolo had crashed into him, his quick reflexes had curled his fingers into tight fists ready to punch the offender, accidentally crushing down on the Ki balls before he had a chance to be rid of them- the result was like an explosion in each hand.
The others could see the damage too- or rather; they could see the smoke rising from his palms and smell the damage. They exchanged nervous glances as Vegeta's face turned from shock, to disgust, then rage.
"You- you idiot Namek!" he spat. "You think that a little blister is going to stop me? After that cheap trick, you're going to pay! Attacking me whilst my back was turned? What a disgrace, you coward!"
"I don't want to fight you right now," Piccolo grumbled, "but if I have to, I will."
"Speak for yourself, Piccolo-" started Te'oboe, but even as he said it, he could feel his little strength diminishing. The Saiyan didn't have a scratch on his apart from scorched hands, and those were self-inflicted.
"Ooh, the Pickle and the musician; I tremble with fear…"
"-But I will agree that today is not the day for a battle."
The two green aliens continued backing each other up. "I'd rather it be another time. After all, where's the fun in fighting someone whose only technique is kicking?"
Vegeta howled with fury. The Namek had a damn good point; without his hands, he was powerless to prevent or provoke any attack. He only had his legs and, thanks to Piccolo's hero swoop, his right hip was killing him.
He could fight, but it would be a tough challenge. He could back down but it would be done without remorse for as long as he chose to do so. He refused to just crawl back to his room like an injured animal. Especially behind the two smug looking green and pink men. He was not some disobedient dog.
He crossed his arms in unspoken submission. "Good thinking Namek. I don't think you could live with the humiliation of being defeated by a man who wouldn't even raise a finger." He flashed a wicked smirk before adding, "and there is no doubt that I could. Particularly you," he hissed at Te'oboe.
The two green aliens glared hard at the Saiyan who gave an equally stony expression back before his aura burst into life and he flew in the opposite direction.
… "So that's all that happened? No deaths, no drastic re-landscaping, NOTHING?"
Piccolo frowned at how she had summed up his day. It was true that nobody died and the damage was so minimal and looked natural anyway, but only just. Anymore than that and it would have called unwanted attention.
"No. There, you have it- my story, Te'oboe's story, an explanation of what happened to you; are we done yet?"
"I found Yamcha's body," she slowly croaked out. "I found Yamcha's body!" She tried so hard to bring up a memory of it but was unable to. When she told Piccolo about this, he merely looked at her and raised an eyebrow.
"Would you want to?"
"Would you think of me as a bad girlfriend if I said no?" was her only reply. Almost as if to prove his lack of judgment towards her girlfriend skills, he turned his back on her and prepared to levitate himself to the damn tree tops if he had to, as long as he'd get some peace and quiet.
She rushed forward and tugged on the bottom of his white cape "Hey, wait! I never said I had no more questions, did I?"
The Namekien relented, allowing just a few more moments of his time.
"Where is he now?" Bulma looked at her hands, which were rung together in grief. "What happened to him and Tien after I… you know? They've not just been left there, have they?"
"Te'oboe and I took it upon ourselves to remove them, yes-"
"Where to?"
"We burnt them away with low power energy balls-"
"You didn't bury them?" Her blue eyes flashed with shock but also irritation. "Whatever happened to 'rest in peace'? I might have wanted to visit his grave, or lay down some flowers or something, that's what people do!
"What Goku died the first time, he disappeared right in front of me- Chichi didn't believe he was dead for a whole three days, she just though he'd wandered off somewhere. And now? His body is gone completely again! And what about Krillin, or Chioutzu, or Tien, eh? None of us can go and sit by their gravestone like any other normal person does?
"And where am I supposed to put his flowers!" she finally roared.
Before her, Piccolo's cheeks started to turn a darker shade of green, as it was the first, and hopefully last, time he'd seen this woman lose her rag like that.
"This way, they will all be revived in a completely new body, instead of returning to a rejuvenated version of themselves." With an abrupt speed, he took a step backwards and jumped into the air before Bulma could gather air to stop him.
Left alone and even more bemused than before, Bulma dragged herself through the night and back to the living quarters. Her headache was beginning to catch up on her again and without the adrenaline rush she had experienced just half an hour ago, she was starting to feel exhausted. All she needed now was a good long sleep.
:D