Bulma and Vegeta experience a very dark night...
*** Well guys, here's my next chapter.
I apologize for taking so long with this update, but I really struggled with this one. It's a bit darker than usual and it sort of got me out of my comfort zone. I have no idea if I've been able to develop the idea I had in mind, but I tried my best.
To those of you who wrote those encouraging reviews in my last chapter, THANK YOU, it means a lot to me to know some of you are still enjoying this story.
I hope you like the chapter! ***
He would rage and he would cry,
my lost soldier.
And I said to him,
"There are two of you, don't you see?
One that kills, and one that loves."
And he said to me,
"I don't know whether I am an animal or a god."
But you are both.
[Roxanne; "Apocalypse Now Redux"]
The first merciless blow hit Bulma right on her ribs, the unmistakable sound of the cracked bone dangerously warning her of what was still to come.
The second blow came accompanied by the familiar, syrupy laughter of her tormentor as his cold, pink tail swung at the speed of light, hitting the back of her neck cruelly, like a ruthless whip, making her stagger and come dangerously close to losing her balance. Only her pride, the only thing she had left at this point, stopped her now precariously standing body from its predictable fall.
It would be the third blow, a swift and brutal punch in the stomach, the one which would finally bring her down on her knees.
Bulma fell pitifully to the ground, her entire body shivering in pain and unadulterated fear as her eyes filled with proud, unshed tears. The white tiles of the cold, polished floors soon became a blurry vision as the woman struggled with the inescapable need to cry and release all the anger and frustration running through her veins. Her arms trembled, barely supporting her light weight as she remained immobile on all fours like a beaten dog, waiting dreadfully for her Master to finish the job and end her miserable life once and for all.
A vicious kick in the stomach made her insides burst, and a heavy rush of dark, thick blood filled her mouth miserably, quickly followed by a wave of nausea, making her immediately vomit the warm, metallic liquid in her body's pathetic attempt to get rid of the sickening, disturbing taste.
"Why?" She finally managed to blurt out, her furious, hazy eyes still fixated on the blood-soaked floors, panting and heaving profusely as she battled a second, stomach-turning wave of sickness.
The monster's disturbingly treacly voice filled the room once again with his characteristically malicious laughter.
"Why not?" He replied nonchalantly, with more than evident amusement.
One of his frozen, lizard-like hands reached out to the kneeling woman, holding her chin in a harsh manner and aggressively obligating her to look into his dark, empty eyes, void of any emotion other than the evil smile dancing within them as the freak's claws sank further into her skin, breaking it violently and making thin rivulets of crimson run down her jaw.
"Tsk, tsk…" Her Master muttered in a mocking tone, his revoltingly sour breath reaching her far too sensitive nostrils, forcing an involuntary sneer out of her bloodied mouth. "Nobody touches my Second Lieutenant and gets away with it…" The monster declared in a low, ominous tone.
"He fucking deserved it," the woman replied defiantly, her ragged breath betraying her clearly contrived confidence. "That green asshole isn't strong enough to be anyone's Lieutenant!"
In the blink of an eye, the slimy pink tail wrapped itself around her fragile neck, lifting her entire body off the ground with frightening ease. Her hands immediately clutched the cold limb in a pathetic, hopeless attempt to make it let go of her, instead, the grotesque tail squeezed her even tighter, and a sharp, unbearable pain run through her spine, forcing a pitiful, desperate scream out of her exhausted lungs.
"You little fucker…" The almighty creature scoffed disdainfully. "You don't get to decide who deserves what around here, you little shit!"
As he pronounced these last words, the wicked bastard hurled Bulma's body across the room and against a massive glass window, smashing it as she fell to the ground. The woman lay dejectedly on the glass-covered tiles for what felt like an eternity, her entire body wracked with shameful tremors of ache and revulsion. However, the physical discomfort was nothing compared to the deep humiliation that now surrounded her as she heard the mocking roaring of her Master's crew, laughing loudly at the disgraceful sight of the bleeding, broken figure now covered in broken glass.
The distinctive sound of the lizard's steps approaching her stopped Bulma from slipping into unconsciousness and, swallowing whatever remnants of pride she had left in her wounded body, she crawled cowardly across the floor, hissing in excruciating pain as the fragments of shattered glass penetrated the flesh of her small hands, until she finally reached her shameful destination under the bed, where she curled up in a little ball, dreading the inescapable beating that she knew was still awaiting her.
"Come here, Little Monkey…" The sickly-sweet voice called sardonically. "Let's play a little game…"
Bulma's dishonorable tears fell freely as she remained hidden under the small cot and, covering her bloodied face with shaky hands, she couldn't help but invoke the memory of the one person she held responsible for her horrifying predicament.
'Father…'
"Little Monkey…" The torturing voice sang malevolently, getting closer and closer, making her sob loudly, choking in her own tears and drowning in cold sweat.
'Why?'
"Oh, it's just a little game. You'll see, my dear…"
'Why? Father… Please! Why? Why did you abandon…?'
She felt her Master's terrifying presence by her side, and his deceitfully scrawny legs stood by the bed, maliciously prolonging the inevitable and reveling in the scent of pure fright emanating from the petrified woman.
Bulma squeezed her eyes shut, willing the fear to go away, praying, begging the Gods of her People to save her, or at the very least, to make her inexorable death come as quick and painless as possible. Her strength paled compared to that of the pink and purple lizard, and her hopes and dreams of ever defeating him in a glorious, honorable battle were now nothing but a delusional fantasy, still so far, far away...
The unnervingly sugary voice sent a cold shiver down her spine, and she brought her wounded knees even closer to her chest, pressing them against it as if that could somehow shield her from the outside world and the mortifying laughter of the crowd inundating the gloomy room.
"There you are, Little One!" He exclaimed happily, sinking one knee on the elegant floors and sticking his horned head under the bed, like a sickly disturbed father playing a twisted game of hide and seek with his foster child.
Bulma's eyes widened in terror, and she pressed her back further against the wall at the perturbing sight of the monster's face getting closer and closer.
'Father…'
"Is it true, Little Monkey?"
'Please… Please, make it stop…'
"Is it true that the best way to play with filthy Little Monkeys is to catch them by the tail?"
The woman's natural instinct of preservation kicked in, realizing with apprehension that she'd forgotten to wrap her tail around her waist, just like Nappa had taught her in her early days during their extensive hours of basic training. But, before she had the chance to correct her hazardous mistake, the lizard's gloppy claws caught it in a tight clasp, squeezing the furry appendix as hard as he could as his evil laughter pervaded the room once again.
"See?" He asked wickedly, savoring the atrocious sounds of the woman's bones cracking. "We're having fun! Aren't we, Little Monkey?"
An ear-piercing cry of pure agony erupted from Bulma's mouth, and she jumped in shock, sitting abruptly on the large bed, clutching the white sheets protectively against her naked chest and shaking her head anxiously.
"No! Noooooo!"
Vegeta awoke at once, sitting by her side and staring at her through confused, drowsy eyes.
"Bulma?" His warm, raspy voice asked in utter bewilderment.
Bulma's shivering body kept moving frantically, as if she were still in what the Prince had guessed was some sort of terrifying bad dream. He knew how rarely his mate had dreams, let alone bad ones, and Vegeta noticed dreadfully that this was no ordinary nightmare.
He reached out to her, placing his large hands on her frail shoulders, gently but firmly, in an effort to ground her somehow and bring her back to reality, calling her name softly once again.
"Bulma…"
Much to his surprise, Bulma still appeared to be very much possessed by her dark hallucinations, and his heart sank as she recoiled from his touch in fright, and her tiny, clammy hands urgently tried to remove his in a futile attempt to escape from his grasp.
"No! Please!" She yelled anxiously, never opening her eyes, as if the monster still haunting her was the one physically restraining her. "Please, don't! Stop it!"
She kept begging miserably, and her little fists hysterically punched Vegeta's torso over and over again, until the Saiyan trapped them between his own powerful hands, knowing that, if she kept going like this, she'd end up truly hurting herself. He clutched her minute fists and kept them pressed tightly against his chest as he newly tried to awaken her from her cloudy, delusional state.
"Bulma!" He whispered harshly. "It's me! It's just me!"
This time, his low but stern voice seemed to do the trick, and Bulma gradually ceased her frenetic struggles, slowing down her movements until she eventually stopped and gathered the courage to open her eyes. She raised her head slowly, her terrified eyes meeting her lover's oddly concerned ones and, little by little, the painfully frightened expression on her beautiful face morphed into the vast relief that only Vegeta's presence could provide.
"He was breaking my tail!" She sobbed woefully as tears pooled in her sad, blue eyes and rolled down her unusually pale cheeks. "He… He was breaking my tail…"
Vegeta blinked a few times in confusion, still trying to fully wake up from his previously deep slumber. One of his hands kept holding both of hers in his firm grasp, and the other one found the nape of her slender neck, now covered by a fine sheen of cold sweat, and buried itself within her silky turquoise waves, delicately bringing her closer to him until he was able to press his forehead against hers.
"Bulma…" Vegeta whispered again, making the conscious effort to speak cautiously and trying as hard as he could to soothe and reassure her. "You don't have a tail…"
Bulma's ragged breath ghosted over his lips, and she kept staring at him as wide eyed as a spooked child. At last, she nodded slowly, finally accepting that her fears were completely unfounded, and she sighed convulsively, throwing her arms around her mate's neck and bursting into hot tears of pure relief. Vegeta reciprocated immediately, pulling her even closer into a powerful embrace as he fell prey to a fierce protective instinct, wanting nothing more than to comfort her, forever shielding her from the outside world.
Her heartbeat was still rabbiting nervously against his own and, whilst the warrior waited patiently for his mate to calm down, his now completely awaken mind found itself overrun by an unshakable suspicion. The moisture of Bulma's tears flooding on the crook of his neck stabbed his heart torturously as he run his rugged hands across the alabaster skin of her back and he took in her alluring scent, a mixture of her own unique sweetness and the intoxicating traces of their prior lovemaking, which still lingered heavily around her, clinging to her stubbornly like a second skin.
They remained this way for countless minutes, quietly clinging to each other for dear life as Vegeta's assuaging caresses made Bulma's fears slowly evaporate, vanishing into thin air until her breathing was calm and steady. It would never cease to amaze him how his blood-soaked hands were even capable of accomplishing such a feat but, at the same time, the sensation of his little mate's body reacting so easily to his touch, filled him with an inexplicable sense of pride.
"Thank you…" Bulma finally muttered, her petite body now so relaxed in his arms that it felt as if they'd become one single being. "Thank you…" She repeated, planting soft kisses all over his tanned skin, running an excruciatingly tender path from his neck, up to his jaw, until her lips found his and they merged into an affectionate kiss.
While Vegeta secretly attempted to piece things together, each and every one of Bulma's words of gratitude started to feel like a kick in the gut, especially once he began to comprehend what had really transpired between the two of them that night. The subtle tension of his body language wasn't lost on his woman, who reluctantly broke their kiss and looked at him with curious eyes. She gifted him with a sweet, but still somewhat pained smile, and she deduced that her mate was interested in the events which had taken place within the dark corners of her chilling nightmare.
"He…" Bulma stuttered shyly, her long fingers clutching the back of his robust neck, like an infant anxiously holding onto a safety blanket. "He broke my tail…"
Vegeta's hands abandoned her body, making his mate immediately shiver at the loss of his comforting warmth. He grabbed the bedsheets, lifting them and covering up her bare figure as well as he could before he reached for her face, cupping it gently between his large hands as he wiped off the few stray tears still spoiling her stunning blue eyes.
"Who did it, Bulma?" He enquired in a low, husky voice.
"He was…" She stopped momentarily, taking a deep, shaky breath before she could continue her glum recollection. "He was not human… He was small but very, very strong, Vegeta…"
"What…? What did he look like?"
"He was… He was pink and p-purple…"
The Prince swallowed heavily, feeling his body tense up even more but still trying to remain cool for Bulma's sake. Even though her whole demeanor had changed, a haunted look still plagued her face, as if she were still unable to completely shake off the horrifying experience her mind had suffered through.
"He was strong…" She repeated. "He… He hit me… He hit me several times and then… He…"
Bulma squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head restlessly, willing the ghosts to go away.
"He's not real, Bulma…" Vegeta susurrated softly in her ear, his thumbs still caressing her cold cheeks, quietly appeasing her agitated nerves. "You can tell me, woman. Have no fear…"
Her eyes opened reticently once more, finding a solid, resolute confidence present in his dark gaze, which instantly filled her with newfound self-assurance. She placed her hands atop of his as she recalled her disturbing dreams.
"He hit me and then… Then I fell on the floor…" There was a brief pause and Bulma bit her lip anxiously before she continued. "He wrapped his tail around my neck… And… He threw me, Vegeta… My body hit some kind of glass window and then… Th-then there was glass and blood everywhere… Everywhere! And… And…"
She sobbed loudly, startling her mate as she threw herself again in his arms, where Vegeta held her possessively at once. He abhorred the complete impotence he experienced witnessing his woman in such a state of vulnerability, and he figured that the only thing he could do was being there for her, reassuring her with his presence in any way he could.
"There were people in the room… One of them, I'm pretty sure I recognized him…" Bulma's anguished voice whispered against his bronzed cheek.
"Who was he?" He whispered back, as if they were both sharing the most intimate of secrets.
"He was green… That… That alien you killed on Namek…"
"Zarbon," Vegeta simply replied, unable to hide the dismay in his hoarse voice.
Bulma nodded in assent, pressing her smooth cheek snugly against his.
"There were others but… I… I can't remember and… Th-then he came to me… And I panicked, and I… I crawled and hid under the bed…" Her small, feminine nails scratched the marred skin of his back lightly while she narrated her tale of horror, as if she could feel the physical torture of the broken glass slicing the tender flesh of her hands all over again.
"Bulma…"
"He… He came to me…" She carried on, interrupting whatever thoughts he'd been about to share with her. "There was la-laughter in the room… Those people… Gods!" Bulma whispered ferociously in an indignant mixture of shame and fury. "They were laughing at me..."
Vegeta's grip on her tightened almost unconsciously, and Bulma nervously nuzzled the skin of his neck, still incapable of looking her lover in the eye.
"He was cruel… And… And vicious… His voice was…"
"And then what happened?" Vegeta interjected, reluctant to let the woman describe her tormentor in too much detail. After all, he already knew exactly who the bastard was, and he knew oh, too well just how the damn story ended.
"Uh? Oh… Uh… He… He kept talking to me… Telling me he wanted to play some kind of game with me…" She exhaled in desolation, her voice barely above a whisper by now. "And then he… He caught me… He g-grabbed my tail and I… I could feel the bones cracking and he…"
The Prince's body shivered in revulsion at the memory of his crushed tail. It used to be one of his old Master's preferred forms of torture and punishment; after all, it was almost a matter of public knowledge how sensitive a Saiyan's tail could be, and the hideous creature had exploited such weakness as often as he'd the chance to do so in the past.
"He called me Little…"
"…Monkey," Vegeta replied, finishing her sentence in a knowing voice and making Bulma look at him at once in sheer shock.
"Vegeta… How…?"
Vegeta let go of her, clenching and unclenching his fists a few times before running his hands nervously across his damp face and hair. He felt sick, he felt literally physically ill at the thought of his woman having, not only witnessed such a shameful and disgraceful event from his past, but at the horrendous image of Bulma experiencing the physical pain and psychological humiliation he'd been forced to go through in those days. His Saiyan telepathic abilities had always tended to magnify his dreams and nightmares, and even though he had no clue as to how much of such capabilities could be transferred to a mere earthling like Bulma, the state of shock and trauma his woman had displayed that night filled him with deep guilt and disgust.
He got of the bed, reaching for the blue pajama bottoms laying forgotten on the floor and quickly putting them on under Bulma's watchful and astonished eye. Just a few hours ago, they'd been making love passionately, and now he was simply walking away from her without so much as an explanation, and the worst part was that she didn't even know the reason why.
The moment Vegeta exited their small bedroom, Bulma jumped out of bed as well, running briskly behind him, unwilling to let him leave without a fight.
"Vegeta! Wait! Please!"
"Leave me alone, woman…" He muttered sheepishly, not even bothering to look at her; but his mate turned out to be a lot faster than he'd anticipated and before he knew it, she'd grabbed him stubbornly by the arm.
"Vegeta! Please! You have to tell me what's going on!" Bulma begged anxiously, the sorrow in her voice forcing him to turn around and look at her, only to find her standing in the middle of the living room, completely naked and shaking like a leaf. She looked so small and fragile, and yet she kept clinging to him, still wanting to keep him by her side at any cost.
The warrior looked around, finding her flimsy nightgown abandoned on the couch, and he grabbed it, silently offering it to her as he kept looking to the ground resignedly, avoiding her gaze in shame. When she wouldn't take it after a few moments, he reluctantly set his eyes on her once more, feeling his heart crushed by the fresh tears pooling anew in her expressive eyes.
"Bulma…"
"Vegeta…" She pleaded in a hushed whisper, her fingertips clasping his skin, refusing to release him. "Please…"
"Bulma…" He sighed tiredly. "Come here, put something on," he commanded gently, with as much patience as he could muster given his present circumstances.
Bulma nodded timidly, raising her slender arms with slight hesitation. Vegeta reacted immediately, dressing her with great care and silently marveling at the sensation of the smooth silk covering his little mate's beautiful body as the seductive garment clung to perfection to her every curve. His hands lingered on her hips a little longer than he intended, finding himself incapable of letting go of her, and the earthling quickly took advantage of this brief moment of vulnerability.
"Vegeta…" She asked once again, caressing his cheeks with devastating affection. "Please… Tell me what's going on…"
He took a deep breath and, with the profound conviction that Bulma wouldn't let the matter rest until she discovered the truth, he finally decided to clarify the baffling situation.
"We're bonded, Bulma."
Bulma remained silent, making the colossal effort to assimilate this new information Vegeta was revealing to her. Her exhaustion, both physical and mental was taking its toll, and by now, she could barely think straight anymore, but she was determined to conquer her fatigue if that meant she'd eventually decipher the mystery only his mate seemed to be privy of.
"You mean… You mean we share a bond?"
Vegeta just assented wordlessly. In his mind, an inner struggle was taking place: the incessant, pitiless battle between his ego and his newly admitted love for this woman. It was a conflict which had become more and more recurrent to him, and he still didn't know what to make of it, all he knew was that the warmth of his lover's touch yielded more power over him than he'd ever wish to admit. The rational part of him, made up purely by his own instinct of self-preservation, wanted to leave, to immediately abandon this situation, and yet, a small, pathetic part of him needed to know how Bulma would react to the idea of being bonded for life to a vicious, heinous killer such as himself.
"Is it like…? Like a mental bond?" Bulma inquired in a low undertone with more than evident interest.
The Saiyan nodded in affirmation once again, simulating a calm indifference but increasingly shocked by how calm his mate was becoming, as if she were more curious than frightened by this new revelation.
Bulma blinked a few times, finally solving the odd mental puzzle which had been plaguing her dizzy mind.
"So, that's what it is…" She concluded, still slightly perturbed by the night's events but, also, almost relieved to finally being able to comprehend Vegeta's bizarre behavior. "So, we… We shared a dream, right? Is that what this is all about? That's not so bad… Is it? Is that why you wanted to leave?"
Bulma smiled sweetly at him, those impossibly soft hands still cupping his face, caressing him with more tenderness than anyone in his cold, miserable life had ever bestowed upon him.
It unnerved him.
It unnerved him profoundly…
This wasn't how things were supposed to go.
She shouldn't be standing confidently in front of him; she was supposed to cry, perhaps yell at him. Right now, she should be frantically packing up her things, running for the hills and going back to Earth, where she could raise their child on her own, and do an extraordinarily good job without him ever being in the picture; after all, she'd done it already, and under much, much more difficult circumstances than the ones she'd face whenever she'd choose to return to her now peaceful home planet.
She didn't need this.
She didn't need him.
"You are insane…" He finally stated, removing her pale hands away from his face and seizing her wrists in a severe grip, not strong enough to hurt her, but definitely fierce enough to make a statement. Right away, Bulma's eyes widened in disbelief, perplexed as to why the Prince was acting in such manner.
"Vegeta… What…?"
"You are absolutely, fucking crazy, woman!" He was yelling now, lightly shaking her body, as if he were literally trying to shake some sense into her. "Is this what you want, uh? Being bonded to a murderer?!"
"You are not a murderer, Vegeta!" Bulma shouted right back at him. Despite her obvious concern, the woman's confidence regarding her mate's true nature remained immutable, and Vegeta couldn't help but secretly admire her inner strength and outstanding courage.
"How...? How can you even say that, when you know I killed some bastard just days ago?!"
"You said he deserved it, Vegeta!"
"And?!"
"And I believe you!" She replied self-assuredly, with immaculate honesty in her brave eyes.
Vegeta's grip on her loosened, and Bulma instantly clasped his hands, delicately intertwining her fingers with his and pressing her slender body against him, laying a chaste kiss on his heated lips.
"Vegeta… It's okay… It was just a nightmare…" She mumbled against his mouth. "It's all right…"
Vegeta looked into his woman's eyes, suddenly unsure on how to proceed. His mate's presence, both steady and compassionate, washed over him, gradually weakening his resolve to open up to her and reveal the truth, and yet, he knew he had to, he owed her at least that much.
"Bulma," He whispered, giving her frail hands a short squeeze before ultimately willing his body to release her, setting her free once and for all. He turned around, giving her one last, troubled glance above his shoulder before pronouncing his lugubrious final words.
"What you saw wasn't a nightmare."
He walked towards the door with decisiveness, sending Bulma into a panicked frenzy.
'If the dream wasn't a nightmare, then what was it?'
Before she had the time to fully grasp the meaning behind his enigmatic statement, she run stubbornly behind him once more still unwilling to admit defeat.
"Gods, Vegeta! Please! Just don't…! Shit!"
A loud thud made Vegeta stop dead in his tracks and, by the time he set his eyes on his woman again, he found her sitting on the floor's soft carpet, clutching her foot miserably as tears of pain welled up in her eyes.
"Bulma..."
At once, her mate was by her side, kneeling beside her and eyeing her foot with a concerned frown on his worn-down face. He cautiously removed her small hands, gently encouraging her to allow him to take a look, and she let him without question. After all, if there was one thing the warrior knew something about, it was recognizing an injury when he saw it.
"Where does it hurt?" Vegeta asked softly, never meeting her gaze as he held her delicate foot between warm, calloused hands.
"It's… It's just my toe…" Bulma answered quietly, both astonished and deeply moved by his unexpected display of tenderness. At moments like this, her heart reminded her that he did care about her on some level, and she could only hope it would be enough to bring him back to her.
"Can you move it?" He enquired again, running those large hands gingerly across her skin.
She wiggled her little toes, with slight pain but no great difficulty and, after the Saiyan concluded that nothing was broken, he held her in his arms, carrying her to the couch and placing her on the plush cushions with utmost care, wrapping a cozy blanket around her trembling figure before disappearing into the kitchen, coming back in a short time with a small ice pack and placing it carefully over her sore toes.
The couple shared an awkward silence as they both remained sited on the sofa, with Vegeta pressing the cold item against her foot as Bulma kept staring at him thoughtfully. Even though he was still avoiding looking her directly in the eye, she could sense a more than obvious look of guilt and shame in his tired features.
It was absolutely heartbreaking…
She wanted to say something, anything, to make him feel better, but before she had the chance to come up with something, her Prince disturbed the stillness in the room.
"This is what I do, Bulma…" He declared somberly, his eyes still eluding hers. "I hurt people."
"Vegeta…" She replied in anguish, shaking her head uneasily. "I… I just tripped… It's not your…"
Vegeta raised his sight, filled with so much ache and sorrow Bulma could barely stand looking at him, and he held her chin with gentle but firm conviction, whispering gruffly against her lips.
"I will destroy you, woman."
And with that, he exited the small house, closing the door behind him and leaving a very disturbed, anxious Bulma weeping unconsolably in the dark, clutching the blanket her lover had protectively wrapped around her just minutes earlier and wondering just what in Heaven's name had happened in that mournful night.
The crisp air of the night enveloped Vegeta as he sat on top of the roof of the little Capsule Corp. dwelling which had become his home during the past seven days. Stargazing had been one of his preferred forms of contemplation since his childhood days, and yet, he'd barely had the chance to do it ever since he'd arrived in Virggo with his woman. Of course, his mate had been the reason behind this sudden variation in his almost nightly routine. In fact, he had to admit that Bulma had been the driving force behind many of the most important changes taking place in his life ever since their first encounter, now more than three years ago.
Tonight was supposed to be their last night on the pleasure planet before they returned to Planet Z365, where they'd join Krillin and Yamcha and he'd finally have to make the choice of whether he'd return to her home planet with her, or whether he'd send her back on her own. At least, that was his best guess; the truth of the matter was that Bulma had never given him an ultimatum of any sort, and she'd been extremely relaxed and carefree during the entire time they'd spent in each other's company.
It'd been, without question, the best week of his life…
Just as promised, he'd taken Bulma for a swim every morning, where they'd inevitably end up indulging in a heated lovemaking session before they'd go back home and savor a large, comforting home-cooked breakfast. His worries on how to keep his little mate occupied had vanished early on, after quickly realizing that, true to her word, the only thing Bulma had really wanted from him was some alone time together, just the two of them.
They spent the rest of their days going for long walks, a custom his woman had described as "romantic", and even though he didn't fully comprehend what was so romantic about it, the Prince had grown to enjoy this particular habit of hers, especially since most of the planet was unpopulated and no one could witness these rare displays of physical affection he'd always abhorred so much.
Vegeta also took her to Virggo's few ancient villages. Despite having been abandoned and uninhabited for years now, they were still replete of long-forgotten items which had awaken Bulma's insatiable scientific curiosity, and she was now in possession of three capsules filled to the brim with a wide variety of objects, from intricate but wrecked machines, to silly little trinkets. Most of the technology was quite primitive compared to Bulma's staggering inventions, but the earthling still insisted in taking as much as she could with her, arguing that "you can always learn something new" and "you never know where new, great ideas could come from".
At times, Vegeta actually knew what those cast aside items were, and he'd explain their purpose as his wide-eyed woman listened to him in fascination. He had to admit, much to his shame, that pleasing Bulma was truly starting to fill him with a bizarre sense of pride and satisfaction, and he took equal pride in his mate's incredibly high intellect. He'd always known her to be an intelligent woman, but he'd recently discovered that her knowledge went beyond the purely mechanical field, and she was equally knowledgeable in biology and, more specifically, in botany, as evidenced by the large case replete of seeds and plant samples she'd also encapsulated with the obvious intention of furthering her studies of Virggo's flora as soon as she returned to Earth.
Bulma had talked quite a bit about her plans for the future, about certain changes and improvements his father was planning on implementing in Capsule Corporation and on how he'd gradually be delegating more and more responsibilities on her in order to get her ready to, one day, take over the company completely.
Vegeta took a deep breath, rubbing his face and exhaling wearily in frustration…
Bulma's cleverness and ambition, combined with her astounding newfound maturity, had made the woman even more desirable to him if that was even possible. When they'd initiated their illicit relationship, it'd been her flawless beauty and fierce temper which had first attracted him to her, combined with her scientific skills and that shameless boldness of hers. Never had he imagined anything beyond a physical affair, always reminding himself that she was nothing, nothing more than a pleasurable distraction and a warm, eager body to pass the time, helping him cope with his nightmarish life, spent between sleepless nights, ghastly training sessions and the single-minded goal of his ascension, with the resulting defeat of his archrival.
But now things were different…
Bulma, the girlie, puny earthling who'd started off as a mere guilty pleasure, had become, in countless ways, the sole focus of his existence. It was because of her that he'd briefly considered staying on Earth after his shameful defeat in the aftermath of the Cell Games and, ironically, she'd been the reason why he'd finally chosen to embark on a barely planned quest for universal domination, a goal he no longer desired to begin with, simply because he'd concluded that she and the boy would be better off without an utter failure like him in their lives.
Vegeta had already known, on some level, that some kind of bond had been established between them, and he'd concluded that the mere physical distance would suffice in order to break or, at least, to seriously severe it, hoping that allowing some time to pass by would be enough to do the rest, destroying whatever remained of their unlikely union.
As usual, especially with anything having to do with his relationship with Bulma, he couldn't have been more wrong.
He hadn't counted on how much comfort and relief his little mate had brought into his life, not until he'd parted from her home planet, on his way into an almost suicidal quest for power, pervaded by sleepless nights, a rare lack of appetite and an almost non-existent will to train and fight, the very same one which had always been dictated by his visceral, warlike nature.
Ever since his woman had come back into his life, things had felt right, almost as if they were meant to be together and, even though such sappy, sentimental emotions filled him with disgust and shame, Vegeta had come to believe that maybe, just maybe, this fragile creature and he were made for one another, destined to remain by each other's side. Even the dreadful Saiyan bond, the one he'd every now and then heard Nappa and Raditz discuss in the past, but which he'd never experienced himself, had seemed less threatening than he'd anticipated, but once again, tonight's horrific events had proven how greatly mistaken he'd been.
Every time he closed his eyes, the mental image of Bulma's petrified face invaded his mind, and he quivered in wrath and repulsion at being the one responsible for the haunted look on her immaculate visage and the way she trembled in sheer panic in his arms, whispering words of gratitude, thanking him for comforting her when he'd been, after all, the one unintentionally sharing his curse with her.
Vegeta had come to terms with his obscure demons a long time ago. He'd learnt to accept that the memory of his old Master's atrocious deeds would haunt and torment him for life, and he'd somehow managed to make peace with that condemn. But he could not, under any circumstance, get used to the idea of inviting Bulma, everlastingly, inside his grisly mind. A creature as good and pure as his woman didn't deserve to live a lifetime permanently subjected to such a miserable existence.
The subtle variations of the colors in the sky broke Vegeta's sullen musings, announcing that dawn was coming and reminding him that, whether he liked it or not, it was time to get inside the house and face his woman. His sensitive hearing hadn't perceived any noise coming from their home in a while, and he prayed that Bulma would be asleep by now, at least until he'd be able to find a way to discuss this new state of affairs with her.
He descended from the roof and entered the place, now silent as a tomb. He immediately set his eyes on his mate, who'd fallen asleep at some point on the sofa and, after removing the now lukewarm ice pack from her foot, and checking, once more, that there seemed to be no sign of injury, he held her in his arms with utmost care, trying desperately not to awaken her. She'd remained swaddled in the cozy blanket still wrapped around her, and a sudden, poignant emotion overcame him when she instinctively rubbed her cheek against his bare chest, seeking comfort in him even in her state of unconsciousness.
By the time they made it to the bedroom, Bulma had already woken up from her troubled sleep, much to his dismay.
"Vegeta?" She mumbled sleepily, wrapping her arms around him and nuzzling his neck dotingly.
"Go back to sleep, Bulma…" He ordered in a hushed whisper, staggered as to why his woman looked so calm and secure in his embrace after the events which had taken place just hours earlier.
She inhaled his musky skin and pulled him even closer, and the Saiyan instantly fell into a perplexed state of bewilderment when she smiled lazily against his flesh, her former fears seemingly forgotten by now.
"It's okay…" Bulma susurrated, tenderly kissing the crook of his neck and raising her head, looking at him with eyes both tired but filled with a love he felt wholly undeserving of. "I've missed you…"
The Prince stood in the middle of the room and, seeing that his woman obstinately refused to let go of him, he sat on the bed, cradling her small body against him like a child, as if she were the most delicate thing he'd ever handled in his entire life.
Bulma looked at him adoringly, all plump lips and large, shimmery eyes, with that eternal smile adorning that pretty face of hers. Her prior worries had vanished, replaced instead with a strange kindness he could only identify as compassion.
She felt sorry for him.
She should have been feeling sorry for herself and yet, here she was, offering him unfaltering sympathy and kindheartedness instead.
He didn't understand it.
He didn't understand her.
"Why?" Vegeta simply asked, making Bulma tilt her head slightly to the side, squinting at him with curiosity as she kept caressing his flushed cheeks with great care.
"Why, what?"
He held her gaze imperturbably, attempting desperately to conceal his confusion behind his practiced neutral façade, but his little mate could read him like a book by now. Such vulnerability terrified him, but he also believed that, perhaps, Bulma's deep knowledge of his disturbed psyche would make it easier for her to help him comprehend this new, uncharted territory they were both stepping into.
"Vegeta…" She repeated, never ceasing her doting ministrations as her caresses kept soothing him, dispelling his ghosts with her calming touch. "Why, what?"
"Back…" He took a deep breath, tucking an unruly strand of turquoise hair behind her ear and secretly relishing the faint blush suddenly embellishing her cheeks. "Back in the ship… When you…"
Bulma planted a soft kiss on his jaw, intuitively sensing his nervousness. Whatever it was her man wished to discuss, it had to do with emotions, and she knew her grouchy Saiyan always had trouble with expressing himself verbally and dealing with any type of sentiment.
"Yeah?"
"When you… When you discussed your youth…"
"When I told you those stories about my past?"
Vegeta simply replied with a sharp nod, suddenly avoiding looking her directly in the eye. A part of him couldn't believe he was actually about to encourage this discussion but, then again, nothing had ever confused and intrigued the Prince as much as his woman did.
"What about it?" Bulma replied in a tone filled with interest. It was unlike her man to initiate a conversation unless he absolutely had to, particularly by asking questions of a personal nature.
"Your wish… You said…"
"Yes?"
Vegeta's fatigued eyes returned to her, finally gathering the courage to ask the question which had been bursting in his lips ever since she'd shared her old tales with him, back in their space ship, at the beginning of their journey together.
"You said you eventually got your wish…"
Bulma's breath hitched inside her chest as Vegeta's embarrassingly intimate question caught her by surprise; after all, her mate had clearly avoided discussing the matter with her in the past, the night she'd bared her soul to him by revealing, not only her childhood memories, but the fact that she truly considered him to be the right man for her, the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Back then, the Saiyan had changed the topic of conversation immediately, humiliating and crushing her poor little heart in the process, but now he looked as if he were ready to have her explain her true feelings for him, and Bulma wasn't about to miss such a rare opportunity. Their week together was almost over and, so far, Vegeta hadn't hinted as to whether he'd made the choice to return to Earth with her or not. She was running out of time, and she had nothing to lose and everything in the world to gain by disclosing her feelings tonight.
"I did," Bulma answered with as much coolness and confidence in her voice as she could.
She wanted, no, needed him to understand just how deep her feelings for him run, and how much he'd always underestimated his positive qualities. For a man whose ego seemed to possess the size of a Galaxy, Bulma was painfully aware of how little Vegeta valued anything other than his physical strength, and the outcome of the battle against Cell had done absolutely nothing to improve his self-image. Bulma knew her mate had considered the result of the brutal fight a shameful defeat, and now that he'd discovered that the prized and elusive Super Saiyan transformation hadn't turned out to be enough to grant him invincibility, the Prince's self-worth had reached a new low, as evidenced by the wounded, disoriented look lingering in his raven eyes as he enquired again.
"Why?"
"Why did I make that wish?"
"No, woman…" He continued, keeping his strong, muscular arms still firmly enveloped around her fragile body and squeezing her even tighter, silently pleading for a reply. "Why? Why do you think you finally got your wish?"
Her hands found his chest, lavishing it with tender caresses as she tried to appease his doubts.
"Because I did," she answered, looking him directly in the eye with brutal honesty. "Although, looking back…" Bulma paused briefly, as if trying to find the right choice of words. "I guess… I guess I was a bit mistaken about my wish back then, you know?"
The Prince frowned slightly, feeling even more confused than before. Whatever it was his woman was talking about, she was only intensifying his disconcertment.
"In what way?" He asked again.
"Well… Back then…" She continued, sensing her mate's more than evident puzzlement. "Back then my wish was trying to find the perfect boyfriend. The perfect man…"
A bittersweet smile crossed Bulma's lips as Vegeta remained silent, waiting expectantly for her to reach her conclusion.
"I guess it took me a while to realize that… That the perfect man doesn't really exist."
She shifted in his arms, rebelling against his possessively tight embrace, and letting the cozy blanket shielding her from the cool air in the room fall to the ground. Her thin arms encircled his neck once more, and she pulled him closer, laying a chaste, lingering kiss on his lips and sitting atop him, straddling him as he wrestled with his emotions.
"Now I know there's no such thing as a perfect man, simply because there's no such thing as a perfect woman either."
Vegeta's hands found her hips, and he kept her firmly pressed against him, unable to ignore how appetizing his woman looked, and felt, clad only in that silky negligee. Focusing in her words was increasingly becoming harder and harder with those long fingers toying lazily with his wild hair while she revealed her most intimate secrets to him.
"Although I am pretty close myself, don't you think?" She asked in a playful tone, winking cheekily at him in hopes of lightening up the mood. "I am Bulma Briefs, after all…"
The Saiyan huffed softly, shaking his head lightly as he struggled to restrain the smirk that threatened his lips.
"Yes…" He responded, clutching her waist and meshing her small figure with his. "You are Bulma Briefs. The most infuriating, stubborn woman I have ever met in all my…"
Before he had the chance to keep whining, Bulma silenced him with another kiss, secretly elated when he immediately reciprocated as he kept holding her greedily against him. When they broke the kiss, she smiled proudly, nibbling her lower lip.
"We both know you like me that way, Prince Vegeta, don't pretend…" She pouted coquettishly, eliciting a deep grunt from her bewildered mate. Even though a confused, questioning look still swam within his mysterious eyes, his desire for her was still clearly present, silently encouraging her to carry on.
"Now I know…" She continued in a whisper. "Now I know that my wish wasn't really finding the perfect man, but finding a man who was perfect for me." Bulma finally concluded, waiting patiently for her words sink in.
Vegeta frowned. He'd hoped that discussing matters with his woman would bring some light and assist him into getting a greater understanding of what went on inside that pretty little head of hers, but this new explanation made even less sense to him than the last one did.
The perfect man for her...
Not the perfect man, but the perfect man for this particular woman…
"You don't agree?" The earthling asked almost shyly, apparently unsurprised by his confusion. She already knew by now that it would take a lot more for her man to grasp anything having to do with romantic relationships.
The Prince's only reaction was shaking his head slowly, quietly allowing Bulma to further her explanation.
"Well… I think we're pretty good together, don't you think?" She asked hopefully in the most cheerful tone she could muster.
"Why?" He asked again, absolutely dumbfounded as to what it was that the blasted woman was talking about. Vegeta knew himself to be a strong warrior but, beyond that, there wasn't a single one of his features that qualified him, in his opinion, to be someone else's mate, especially not Bulma's, who happened to be the most loving, emotional female he'd ever encountered.
"Mmm… Let me think…" Bulma asked playfully, tapping her lush mouth with her index finger in mockery, as if trying really hard to come up with an answer to Vegeta's question.
"You're determined," she finally said. "Probably the most determined person I've ever known, even more than Son-Kun, you know?"
Bulma looked at her mate, hoping to finally get a reaction to her words, but he just stayed infuriatingly silent. Even though Vegeta remained an enigma in many ways, it seemed to her that his handsome face was a mixture of incredulity and hopefulness, as if deep down he truly wanted to believe that her judgement of him was the right one.
She kissed his cheek tenderly, gazing at him with fondness.
"I always admired you, you know? Even when you worried me to death with your crazy training. I always knew someday you'd make it…" Bulma whispered with nostalgia, the image of his proud stance when he first told her of his ascension flashing through her mind. "I was so happy for you…"
He sighed tiredly, and his rough fingers dug a little deeper into her hips when his mate got even closer and kissed his temple, making him unconsciously close his eyes, giving in to her with astounding ease. Bulma's chest tightened at the sight of discomfiture and vulnerability written all over his face, making her protective instincts kick in as she held him lovingly.
"You're intelligent…" Bulma whispered, kissing his brow. "And proud..." She kissed the tip of his regal nose. "I used to think that wasn't your best quality, but now I know it's such an important part of you..."
"Woman…" He muttered, but her reflections interrupted him once again.
"You have honor," she said proudly. "You are the most honorable man I know. And you are strong, obviously. You're the strongest person I…"
"Not stronger than an eleven-year-old boy," Vegeta interjected bitterly, with clearly unhidden resentment in his eyes.
"You mean the eleven-year-old boy who won a battle with your help?"
His eyes widened imperceptibly, stunned by Bulma's unexpectedly high opinion of him. He'd never openly discussed his disgraceful defeat with her, but he already knew her friends must have disclosed certain details to her, as evidenced by her words during their first encounter at Frieza's palace. She'd mentioned Mirai Trunks, and how happy the young man had been after discovering that his father had lost his mind at the sight of his lifeless body. Apparently, those goddamned gossipy earthlings had told her about how he gave Kakarot's brat a helping hand at the last minute, just when the boy had needed it the most.
Obviously, that didn't matter to Vegeta.
To a Saiyan Prince, anything other than a glorious victory, automatically equaled defeat.
"That is of little consequence, Bulma. It was still the boy the one who won the…"
"With your help, Vegeta," she interrupted, pronouncing her words at a slower pace so as to emphasize just how important the meaning of that statement was. "That's the way we do things in our planet, you know? We help each other, we…"
"That is not the Saiyan way, woman," he spoke in a furious whisper.
'Shouldn't his woman know him better by now?'
"Oh, trust me, I know," Bulma replied, as if reading his thoughts. "But really, Vegeta… Is our way such a bad way? We work together as a team, being there for each other, just…" She paused briefly, wondering what his reaction to her next words would be. "Just like you and me…" She spoke coyly.
"I know you're strong, Vegeta…" Bulma continued. "But if we… If we were to be together, I'd be there for you."
"Bulma…" He disrupted, shaking his head with slight hesitation. "You don't want to live in my head, woman. You don't…"
"I'm not afraid, Vegeta," she stated confidently.
Vegeta gawked at his little mate, not quite knowing how to respond to that.
Her eyes shone with unfaltering braveness as the warm colors of the break of day brightened her girlish, charming features.
She wanted him.
She wanted to be with him regardless of the blazing Hell that was his mind…
"Bulma…"
"Vegeta, come with me…" She whispered ardently against his lips, enfolding his neck possessively and melding her small figure against him, annihilating his adamant resistance entirely. "Come back to me…"
The warrior heaved a little sigh, and his body instantly responded to her, melting under her fervent touch like some naïve, adolescent boy. Only she could do this to him, undoing him, leaving him speechless and leading him to a point where he could no longer fight her with words, and actions were all he had.
One of his arms kept her firmly pressed against his body as the other one travelled to the nape of her neck. He tossed Bulma on the bed and, soon, their bodies were entangled, rolling over the cold bedsheets as their lips locked into a long, passionate kiss. He parted her legs, hungrily exploring her willing body, kissing and licking it without even taking the time to take off her silken, skintight negligee, and he grabbed her hands, pinning them above her head and intertwining his fingers with hers as he entered her slowly, very slowly, making love to her.
Bulma shuddered, her body now feeling like clay underneath his touch, panting heavily against his mouth. "I love you…" She whimpered, her warm breath ghosting his ravenous lips, almost touching them. "I… I love… You… I love… Oh!"
She tilted her head back, burying it in the pillow as Vegeta's powerful carnal instincts took over. His hips rocked languidly against her own, taking pride in being the only male in the Universe capable of making his mate feel this way and, for the first time, for the very first time ever since this journey of chaos and insanity had begun, he realized he could truly see himself going back home to this woman.
This woman who'd gotten a glimpse of his poisonous demons tonight, leaning out into the dark, bottomless abyss that was his mind and, after experiencing the torture and humiliation he'd endured throughout his entire youth in her own flesh, she stood still and asked for more, begging for him to share this heavy burden with her.
This woman who'd left everything and everyone behind just to bring him back, offering him the opportunity to live a life of peace and serenity he knew he'd done absolutely nothing to deserve.
This woman who was both strong and fragile, brave and tender, like burning iron wrapped in the finest silk, mewling and writhing underneath him as she whispered desperate words of love in his ear.
This woman he couldn't live without…
*sigh*
This was hard to write...
In the next chapter, Vegeta and Bulma will return to Planet Z365 and we'll find out what Krillin and Yamcha have been up to.
Will Vegeta finally make his choice?
Thanks a lot for reading!