Vegeta awoke the next morning with the sun in his face. It highlighted the
inside of his eyelids a bright red and beckoned him from his slumber. He
rubbed a hand over them roughly before pushing himself up onto an arm and
blinking at his surroundings. He usually didn't wake up after sunrise, so
the cheeriness of the January morning was unusual to him. Registering that
there was something in his right hand, he brought it up from its spot on
the bed and stared at it numbly until something clicked.
The letter...last night.
His heart skipped a beat and he set the paper pocket onto the dresser. Kakarot...how he missed him. Vegeta's eyes trailed to Goku's side of the bed, still a bit bleary from his deep sleep. The covers hadn't moved from when Vegeta had fallen asleep, making the bed appear just that much lonelier. He shook his head and stumbled down the stairs.
The candles had burned themselves out, leaving little blobs of shapeless wax in their wake. He stepped into the kitchen, noting how cold the stone tile was beneath his feet. The sun was shining in through the window over the sink, thwarting the efforts of the curtains. Vegeta looked at the clock. It was noon. "Great fuck," he muttered and ran a hand through his hair, "dead for three years and he still manages to keep me in bed until lunch time. Baka."
The refrigerator loomed in the corner, calling his name. The saiyan prince tugged the door open and grabbed a banana, some juice, and a slice of bread. He kicked the door shut behind him, set the juice and the yellow fruit on the table, and then slipped the bread into the toaster. Vegeta sighed. "This is going to set my training back a half a day. How does he still manage to do that? I shouldn't have been so sentimental last night." The toast popped and he peeled the banana. "Honestly, I need to get an alarm. This sleeping in late business must stop."
He took a swig from the bottle of fruit juice and pitched the banana peel. He had always talked to himself like that. He had done it before he came to earth, he had done it on Namek, and he had done it when he was with Bulma... He guessed that it came from when he was working with Frieza, during the days and days of solitary confinement he would get for playing pranks on the unsuspecting guards. It was a bad habit and he knew it, but he couldn't stop it. So he just lived with it.
The juice went back into the refrigerator and Vegeta back outside. He was glad that Bulma still allowed him to use the gravity machine; without Goku around, he just wouldn't get any reasonable amount of training if circumstances had been different. Not that it would help him much anyway, but what else was there to do? He didn't have any friends, he didn't really want to go and see his son, he despised earthling activities, and it was cold outside. Training just seemed like it was the best thing to do at that moment, and so Vegeta landed outside the gravity simulator and sighed.
Wait...what? It was in use...Vegeta blinked and scowled. Who the hell was in there? It was HIS machine, and HE was the only one that was supposed to use it...No one else really knew how, save for Bulma and Trunks...
Trunks. Vegeta scowled deeper and walked around to look in through the window of the training facility. The violet-haired demi-saiyan was in the air, attacking a transparent foe blindly and frantically, with no real form or rhythm that Vegeta could distinguish. The prince frowned and cocked his head, wondering why his son would train so...haphazardly, when Vegeta had taken care to teach his son just how to train himself so that he could excel in his fighting skills. What was wrong?
Looking a bit closer and adjusting his grip (he had to grip onto the window frame and hang in order to see through the window, thanks to his height deficiency), Vegeta could see that Trunks was, or had been, crying. His eyes were slightly puffy and there were tear streaks ornamenting his cheeks and chin. His attacks became even more frenzied, almost to the point that Vegeta had to laugh at him. His punches were clumsy, his kicks were poorly- aimed, and his aura flickered erratically, creating a makeshift strobe light show on the walls of the GR. He looked, in Vegeta's opinion, absolutely ridiculous.
Vegeta let go of the window ledge, dropping onto the ground with a soft thud. He padded back around to the front door and decided not to hit the manual over drive button, but in fact to knock on the door. Three solid thunks on the door. He heard the grunting from inside stop for a moment, then: "Fuck off!"
"Is that any way to speak to your father?"
"It's a perfect way! Now fuck the hell off!"
Vegeta hit the manual overdrive button and stepped through the doorway. Trunks was furious. So furious, that, in the same blind rage that he had been training in, he turned on Vegeta and tried to beat him the same way he had tried to beat his missing training partner. This time, Vegeta DID laugh, because through all his rage and sorrow, Trunks didn't land one hit. Normally, that wouldn't have been so amazing, but Vegeta didn't even have to move. Now...to find out.
The saiyan prince raised a hand and socked his son in the jaw. The duke slammed into the far wall and slid down to slouch on the floor. Oceanic eyes glared at Vegeta with terrible sorrow, and the prince could tell that this could very well turn into quite the rant if he wasn't short and to the point. He closed the door and walked forward to offer his son a hand. As expected, Trunks glared at the offering and pushed himself up on his own, rubbing his jaw and spitting onto the floor. Vegeta sighed. "What's your problem?"
"Problem? Who said I had a problem?"
"Your eyes are puffy and you have tear streaks on your face. Your aura is erratic and your fighting is positively repulsive. Your senses are dulled, your temper is flared, and you are absolutely frantic."
"Uh...yeah, so?"
"Spill it."
"You have to promise that you won't get mad."
Mad? Why would he possibly get mad? "Fine."
"Promise!"
"I promise that I won't get mad! Now what the hell is wrong with you?"
Trunks sighed and shifted nervously. His eyes were glued to his toes and he swallowed with a bit of difficulty. Vegeta cleared his throat. Trunks stared at him. "I...think I'm in love with...Goten." There. He'd said it.
Vegeta was not surprised. He'd suspected, as had Goku, but why was there any reason to get mad? So the boy fell in love with another boy, who just happened to be the son of the man he was in love with. Big deal. "That doesn't explain your disarray."
Trunks didn't seem to be able to grasp the fact that Vegeta was not angry with him, but he swallowed again and blinked a few times. "I went over today to tell him...Chichi answered the door; she was crying... I.. I asked her what was wrong and she said that Goten had been severely injured..." He trailed off and his voice cracked a bit. Vegeta narrowed his eyes. "I didn't know what to say or do, so I asked her if I could see him.. She led me into his bedroom and.." He broke into a sob and lowered his head.
Vegeta scowled and grasped his son by the shoulder. "What happened, Trunks? What did you see?"
"I.. Kami.. there was so much blood! He was so pale, his eyes were so dull... I couldn't stand it; couldn't even look at it for any longer than I had to.. I ran out of there before I even thought about asking what had happened.. The first place I knew that I could take everything out and not hurt anybody was here.. I'm sorry if I'm keeping you from your training, but...I needed this."
Vegeta nodded. He understood. "Trunks.. Stay here. I'm going to go and find out what happened to the brat and then come back. I shouldn't be very long, but dinner's in the fridge and your sister is over Gohan's with Pan in case I'm away long."
Trunks sniffed and pawed at his eyes with the heel of his hand. "Alright.. Later, Dad."
Vegeta nodded and turned to step out of the threshold before pausing and partially looking over his shoulder. "Oh, and Trunks..."
"Yeah, Dad?"
"Try and put some effort into training. You may find that it's easier to vent if you actually concentrate."
He left. Goten was injured? This was very curious indeed... The boy had no current enemies to speak of, save those he might have made at school, and he was an excellent fighter anyway... What could have injured him so badly that he put Trunks, his normally stick-up-the-ass serious son, in a state of hysteria? And why the hell didn't Chichi have him in the hospital? Vegeta shook his head and frowned deeply. There were far too many questions that needed answers quickly, and the only way he was going to find out was to go and listen to Chichi's dramatics...he cringed.
Where was Kakarot when you REALLY needed him?
Regardless of the upcoming soap opera, he took to the air. Some things were far more important that his own well being...He chuckled. How many years of being defeated and put down and insulted did it take to get him to admit that? How many years of having to put others before his own greed and want; of saving the earth and his family; of...Kakarot? He smirked faintly. Too many, that's how many.
He set foot on the ground outside the Son house, already catching the faint sobbing of his lover's ex-wife somewhere upstairs. He took a deep breath and readied himself for what he knew what was about to come, but deep down, he knew that he would still come out of this irritated. He walked forward and pushed the door open quietly, knowing full well that Chichi hated it when he didn't knock before entering. And after all those said years - he grinned - he still didn't care.
The sobs were louder now, and he could clearly tell that they were coming from Gohan's old bedroom - the one that Goten currently occupied. He sighed uncomfortably and made his way up the stairs and into the bedroom, where Chichi was huddled over her son's form. She seemed to have cleaned his wounds up a great deal, judging from the description of Goten's condition from Trunks. He cleared his throat, inwardly chuckling at the slight start that Chichi gave at the gruff noise. "May I look at him?"
She looked up at him with worried eyes and sat back on her heels, motioning towards him. Vegeta stepped forward to the young half-saiyan, taking note of his breathing and his skin color, etc... He turned to Chichi. "How long has he been like this?"
"He stumbled in here like that this morning... He was bleeding so badly and he looked like he was about to pass out, I-"
"Could he talk?"
"No, he couldn't."
"Did you examine him for external wounds?"
"Yes...There's a lot of small ones, maybe scratches? And there's a long, deep one just under his left shoulder blade, and also one on his abdomen. I didn't know what to do, I've only really dealt with broken bones and the like, so I gave him the emergency senzu that I had stashed away in my jewelry box and cleaned the dirt and blood off so I could see more clearly...By that time, he had fallen asleep. I bandaged up his major wounds and took his temperature and things like that. His pulse is weak."
"I see. When did Trunks see him?"
"Just after I took him upstairs. Before I got the senzu."
"That explains his hysterics... I see. You do not think Bulma could help him?"
"I haven't thought about anything but staying by his side...Bulma's a technician, not a doctor...What could she possibly do?"
"She has a regeneration tank. She built it for when I kept coming in half dead from my training. I assure you that it is still fully functional and should have your Goten back together properly. Then we shall see what happened."
"Yes...we will. Thank you, Vegeta, for your help."
"Whatever."
AN: Well, you all asked for it...Guess it's not just a one-shot anymore, ne? Heh. Lemme know if you like where this is going and what you think should happen, cuz I honestly have nothing planned for this.. heh.
The letter...last night.
His heart skipped a beat and he set the paper pocket onto the dresser. Kakarot...how he missed him. Vegeta's eyes trailed to Goku's side of the bed, still a bit bleary from his deep sleep. The covers hadn't moved from when Vegeta had fallen asleep, making the bed appear just that much lonelier. He shook his head and stumbled down the stairs.
The candles had burned themselves out, leaving little blobs of shapeless wax in their wake. He stepped into the kitchen, noting how cold the stone tile was beneath his feet. The sun was shining in through the window over the sink, thwarting the efforts of the curtains. Vegeta looked at the clock. It was noon. "Great fuck," he muttered and ran a hand through his hair, "dead for three years and he still manages to keep me in bed until lunch time. Baka."
The refrigerator loomed in the corner, calling his name. The saiyan prince tugged the door open and grabbed a banana, some juice, and a slice of bread. He kicked the door shut behind him, set the juice and the yellow fruit on the table, and then slipped the bread into the toaster. Vegeta sighed. "This is going to set my training back a half a day. How does he still manage to do that? I shouldn't have been so sentimental last night." The toast popped and he peeled the banana. "Honestly, I need to get an alarm. This sleeping in late business must stop."
He took a swig from the bottle of fruit juice and pitched the banana peel. He had always talked to himself like that. He had done it before he came to earth, he had done it on Namek, and he had done it when he was with Bulma... He guessed that it came from when he was working with Frieza, during the days and days of solitary confinement he would get for playing pranks on the unsuspecting guards. It was a bad habit and he knew it, but he couldn't stop it. So he just lived with it.
The juice went back into the refrigerator and Vegeta back outside. He was glad that Bulma still allowed him to use the gravity machine; without Goku around, he just wouldn't get any reasonable amount of training if circumstances had been different. Not that it would help him much anyway, but what else was there to do? He didn't have any friends, he didn't really want to go and see his son, he despised earthling activities, and it was cold outside. Training just seemed like it was the best thing to do at that moment, and so Vegeta landed outside the gravity simulator and sighed.
Wait...what? It was in use...Vegeta blinked and scowled. Who the hell was in there? It was HIS machine, and HE was the only one that was supposed to use it...No one else really knew how, save for Bulma and Trunks...
Trunks. Vegeta scowled deeper and walked around to look in through the window of the training facility. The violet-haired demi-saiyan was in the air, attacking a transparent foe blindly and frantically, with no real form or rhythm that Vegeta could distinguish. The prince frowned and cocked his head, wondering why his son would train so...haphazardly, when Vegeta had taken care to teach his son just how to train himself so that he could excel in his fighting skills. What was wrong?
Looking a bit closer and adjusting his grip (he had to grip onto the window frame and hang in order to see through the window, thanks to his height deficiency), Vegeta could see that Trunks was, or had been, crying. His eyes were slightly puffy and there were tear streaks ornamenting his cheeks and chin. His attacks became even more frenzied, almost to the point that Vegeta had to laugh at him. His punches were clumsy, his kicks were poorly- aimed, and his aura flickered erratically, creating a makeshift strobe light show on the walls of the GR. He looked, in Vegeta's opinion, absolutely ridiculous.
Vegeta let go of the window ledge, dropping onto the ground with a soft thud. He padded back around to the front door and decided not to hit the manual over drive button, but in fact to knock on the door. Three solid thunks on the door. He heard the grunting from inside stop for a moment, then: "Fuck off!"
"Is that any way to speak to your father?"
"It's a perfect way! Now fuck the hell off!"
Vegeta hit the manual overdrive button and stepped through the doorway. Trunks was furious. So furious, that, in the same blind rage that he had been training in, he turned on Vegeta and tried to beat him the same way he had tried to beat his missing training partner. This time, Vegeta DID laugh, because through all his rage and sorrow, Trunks didn't land one hit. Normally, that wouldn't have been so amazing, but Vegeta didn't even have to move. Now...to find out.
The saiyan prince raised a hand and socked his son in the jaw. The duke slammed into the far wall and slid down to slouch on the floor. Oceanic eyes glared at Vegeta with terrible sorrow, and the prince could tell that this could very well turn into quite the rant if he wasn't short and to the point. He closed the door and walked forward to offer his son a hand. As expected, Trunks glared at the offering and pushed himself up on his own, rubbing his jaw and spitting onto the floor. Vegeta sighed. "What's your problem?"
"Problem? Who said I had a problem?"
"Your eyes are puffy and you have tear streaks on your face. Your aura is erratic and your fighting is positively repulsive. Your senses are dulled, your temper is flared, and you are absolutely frantic."
"Uh...yeah, so?"
"Spill it."
"You have to promise that you won't get mad."
Mad? Why would he possibly get mad? "Fine."
"Promise!"
"I promise that I won't get mad! Now what the hell is wrong with you?"
Trunks sighed and shifted nervously. His eyes were glued to his toes and he swallowed with a bit of difficulty. Vegeta cleared his throat. Trunks stared at him. "I...think I'm in love with...Goten." There. He'd said it.
Vegeta was not surprised. He'd suspected, as had Goku, but why was there any reason to get mad? So the boy fell in love with another boy, who just happened to be the son of the man he was in love with. Big deal. "That doesn't explain your disarray."
Trunks didn't seem to be able to grasp the fact that Vegeta was not angry with him, but he swallowed again and blinked a few times. "I went over today to tell him...Chichi answered the door; she was crying... I.. I asked her what was wrong and she said that Goten had been severely injured..." He trailed off and his voice cracked a bit. Vegeta narrowed his eyes. "I didn't know what to say or do, so I asked her if I could see him.. She led me into his bedroom and.." He broke into a sob and lowered his head.
Vegeta scowled and grasped his son by the shoulder. "What happened, Trunks? What did you see?"
"I.. Kami.. there was so much blood! He was so pale, his eyes were so dull... I couldn't stand it; couldn't even look at it for any longer than I had to.. I ran out of there before I even thought about asking what had happened.. The first place I knew that I could take everything out and not hurt anybody was here.. I'm sorry if I'm keeping you from your training, but...I needed this."
Vegeta nodded. He understood. "Trunks.. Stay here. I'm going to go and find out what happened to the brat and then come back. I shouldn't be very long, but dinner's in the fridge and your sister is over Gohan's with Pan in case I'm away long."
Trunks sniffed and pawed at his eyes with the heel of his hand. "Alright.. Later, Dad."
Vegeta nodded and turned to step out of the threshold before pausing and partially looking over his shoulder. "Oh, and Trunks..."
"Yeah, Dad?"
"Try and put some effort into training. You may find that it's easier to vent if you actually concentrate."
He left. Goten was injured? This was very curious indeed... The boy had no current enemies to speak of, save those he might have made at school, and he was an excellent fighter anyway... What could have injured him so badly that he put Trunks, his normally stick-up-the-ass serious son, in a state of hysteria? And why the hell didn't Chichi have him in the hospital? Vegeta shook his head and frowned deeply. There were far too many questions that needed answers quickly, and the only way he was going to find out was to go and listen to Chichi's dramatics...he cringed.
Where was Kakarot when you REALLY needed him?
Regardless of the upcoming soap opera, he took to the air. Some things were far more important that his own well being...He chuckled. How many years of being defeated and put down and insulted did it take to get him to admit that? How many years of having to put others before his own greed and want; of saving the earth and his family; of...Kakarot? He smirked faintly. Too many, that's how many.
He set foot on the ground outside the Son house, already catching the faint sobbing of his lover's ex-wife somewhere upstairs. He took a deep breath and readied himself for what he knew what was about to come, but deep down, he knew that he would still come out of this irritated. He walked forward and pushed the door open quietly, knowing full well that Chichi hated it when he didn't knock before entering. And after all those said years - he grinned - he still didn't care.
The sobs were louder now, and he could clearly tell that they were coming from Gohan's old bedroom - the one that Goten currently occupied. He sighed uncomfortably and made his way up the stairs and into the bedroom, where Chichi was huddled over her son's form. She seemed to have cleaned his wounds up a great deal, judging from the description of Goten's condition from Trunks. He cleared his throat, inwardly chuckling at the slight start that Chichi gave at the gruff noise. "May I look at him?"
She looked up at him with worried eyes and sat back on her heels, motioning towards him. Vegeta stepped forward to the young half-saiyan, taking note of his breathing and his skin color, etc... He turned to Chichi. "How long has he been like this?"
"He stumbled in here like that this morning... He was bleeding so badly and he looked like he was about to pass out, I-"
"Could he talk?"
"No, he couldn't."
"Did you examine him for external wounds?"
"Yes...There's a lot of small ones, maybe scratches? And there's a long, deep one just under his left shoulder blade, and also one on his abdomen. I didn't know what to do, I've only really dealt with broken bones and the like, so I gave him the emergency senzu that I had stashed away in my jewelry box and cleaned the dirt and blood off so I could see more clearly...By that time, he had fallen asleep. I bandaged up his major wounds and took his temperature and things like that. His pulse is weak."
"I see. When did Trunks see him?"
"Just after I took him upstairs. Before I got the senzu."
"That explains his hysterics... I see. You do not think Bulma could help him?"
"I haven't thought about anything but staying by his side...Bulma's a technician, not a doctor...What could she possibly do?"
"She has a regeneration tank. She built it for when I kept coming in half dead from my training. I assure you that it is still fully functional and should have your Goten back together properly. Then we shall see what happened."
"Yes...we will. Thank you, Vegeta, for your help."
"Whatever."
AN: Well, you all asked for it...Guess it's not just a one-shot anymore, ne? Heh. Lemme know if you like where this is going and what you think should happen, cuz I honestly have nothing planned for this.. heh.