::AN -- well now it seems like nobody's reviewing! Oh well. I'll give you a freebie anyway, because I'm nice like that. Er... and because it's not like this is a story you have to pay for with reviews or something. No, nothing like that, certainly. ;-D ::
Chapter 5: Fruition
As Oolong knocked on the door, he felt a last twinge of panic die. This was it; absolutely no going back. The noises inside the gravity room ceased, and an irate Vegeta, sweat gleaming along his forehead, answered the door.
The quickened rise and fall of the erstwhile prince's chest was a little terrifying; as if the man Oolong confronted was actually a taut rubberband, not a person at all. This seemed, in fact, quite in keeping with every rumor Oolong had yet heard about Vegeta.
In the bushes, Chichi and Gohan watched the two stare at one another.
"Why doesn't he say something?" Gohan whispered, barely audible.
"Kakkarot," said Vegeta at this point, with a sneer. Then he raised one eyebrow. "You have no ki."
Chichi nearly jumped. Gohan's energy! She hadn't remembered to tell him to lower it-- but a reassuring hand on her arm told her all she needed to know. He'd lowered it. In fact, as long as he didn't get angry, he probably wouldn't need to tweak at all; he could fly under the martial arts version of radar quite well.
"Of course I don't," said the image of Son Goku, grinning. "I'm not here in my real physical body. Just a... uh... tactile apparition."
Chichi crossed her fingers. That had been Gohan's word for it, not something her husband would actually use!
Thankfully, Vegeta seemed to buy it.
"You're still dead," he said, then paused. "Can you fight like that?"
One-track mind.
"Oh, I dunno, Vegeta," said Oolong, and rubbed the back of his neck, frowning. "I was just here checking up on everybody, but I got the timing wrong, and everyone else was asleep..."
Chichi grinned. This guy was actually pretty good!
Vegeta grunted. "Well, if you've come here just to waste time, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you. Those of us who are still living have work to do."
"Wait, Vegeta!" complained Oolong. "I guess I could try. Wait a sec... I got this stuff from the Kais a while back..." He rummaged in his voluminous orange pants, and took out a bottle of dark orange liquid.
"What is that?" said Vegeta, suspiciously.
"Kinda like a booster juice... you want some?"
Chichi slapped a hand to her head. Oolong had just abandoned the entire plan! This was where he was supposed to go into how the liquid was a mysterious substance that raised the fighting ability of the whole person, so it would make his avatar more substantial in the earthly plane, thus able to fight if Vegeta drank from the other bottle to make himself more insubstantial so they could meet halfway between planes and fight there...
"Fine," growled the Prince of Saiyans. Oolong handed him the bottle of red liquid, and he downed it in one fell gulp. "Now can we stop wasting time and sp.. pa... arrrrrrrschnpxzzzzz...."
And with only the slightest and most graceful of thuds, the diminutive figure collapsed to the ground, dead asleep.
Chichi and Gohan ran out from the bushes to where Oolong, popping back into the form of a pig, gingerly lifted an arm, then let go. It flopped down like wilted spaghetti.
"I can't believe it," said the pig. "It actually worked!" He looked at the body of the Prince of Saiyans, which lay snoring in a little limp lump. "I can't believe it was so easy..."
"You were brilliant!" gushed Chichi. "How'd you know he'd just drink it like that?"
"I, ah..." Oolong trailed off sheepishly, then muttered quickly, turning red: "Kinda forgot what I was supposed to say..."
"Hey, I wrote that part!" Gohan frowned.
Oolong tried to lift a sculpted leg by its ankle, then gave up. "How's a guy this small this heavy, anyway?"
"Solid muscle," Gohan grinned, ruefully.
"And allll of it completely relaxed," Chichi grinned mischeivously. "Well, boys? We did it. We defeated His Highness Vegeta-- and without having to land a single blow." She nudged His Highness with her foot. "We'll get him back in the gravity room, and he'll wake up a little tired, and think it was all some sort of strange vision, most likely. Ha! Brains over brawn!" Unable to resist, she made a victory sign.
"Well, I'm not carrying him," Oolong muttered.
Offhandedly, Son Gohan lifted up the body. It snored.
"OK," Oolong said, "You seem to have this under control. Congratulations, both of you... you owe me a dinner, remember... well, I'm..." and with a last cowardly look at the body draped over Gohan's shoulder, Oolong vanished away into the night.
Chichi snorted. And here she had almost been ready to forgive and forget the way that creature behaved!
"We should get out of here before he wakes up," Gohan said.
"Him? He'll be out until morning."
"I think he's waking up," Gohan insisted, nervously. "His arm twitched a second ago."
"What? He shouldn't be able to even move the brain cell to think about twitching a muscle!" Chichi squinted at Vegeta's body in the dim light, and caught an unmistakeable twitch in his thigh muscle. Then another along his spine.
"No," she breathed. "It can't do this. I don't understand! The... this isn't even a possible side effect of the drug! What's going on?"
"What was in the drink before you drugged it?" Gohan said, an unmistakeable note of panic in his voice. "Could it be an interaction?"
"It's just cherry soda!" Chichi protested. "Bulma said Vegeta never takes any other drugs, either; matter of pride, he thinks it weakens the body. Oh, Kami..." she trailed off, as Vegeta's body twitched again, violently, and again.
"He's going into convulsions," Gohan said. "Ma!" He turned to her, hurt, and the look in his eyes made her grow pale. He was blaming her. Of course he would blame her. This whole misconceived scheme had been at her behest. But I only wanted to help you, Chichi wanted to say; I only wanted to show you you didn't have to shoulder the burden of the planet on yourself. That you could be free to pursue a normal life, that you weren't the only one who could defend people! But Chichi didn't say any of this; she found herself mute, unable to speak, hardly able to stand, as Vegeta's back arched in the grips of a spasm. As his hand stretched out, a light flew from it, striking a nearby tree; it burst into flame.
"Ma!" Gohan said, and his voice was forceful, suddenly, and remarkably calm. "Get Bulma. Get help." Lights were turning on inside of Capsule Corps. "Whatever this is, his ki control is as shot as his muscle control. I'll try to keep him from doing any damage to anyone. Go!"
Chichi turned and fled toward the house. It suddenly seemed strangely far, as if the world had telescoped around her. Everything seemed to be going slowly, and topsy-turvy; somewhere she could hear Trunks wailing, and the sound of footsteps. Somehow it had all gone horribly wrong, and she had no idea how. It wasn't supposed to be this way; she was supposed to be in charge so her son wouldn't have to be. She was supposed to be the protector for a change. Instead the tables had been turned on her, she didn't know how, she didn't know by who, her son looked at her from eyes more disappointed and betrayed than accusatory; she had failed, failed him, Vegeta was dying, and her son had been replaced with that cold, calculating warrior she'd been trying to help him cast away, and suddenly it was just one more time he had to save the world-- just one more parent turned dependent on him, just one more step to growing old frighteningly before his time--
Chichi didn't make it across the garden to the back door of the house. Someone struck a blow to her solar plexus, hard, her breath was stolen from her lips, and the world blinked away.
...to be continued...
Chapter 5: Fruition
As Oolong knocked on the door, he felt a last twinge of panic die. This was it; absolutely no going back. The noises inside the gravity room ceased, and an irate Vegeta, sweat gleaming along his forehead, answered the door.
The quickened rise and fall of the erstwhile prince's chest was a little terrifying; as if the man Oolong confronted was actually a taut rubberband, not a person at all. This seemed, in fact, quite in keeping with every rumor Oolong had yet heard about Vegeta.
In the bushes, Chichi and Gohan watched the two stare at one another.
"Why doesn't he say something?" Gohan whispered, barely audible.
"Kakkarot," said Vegeta at this point, with a sneer. Then he raised one eyebrow. "You have no ki."
Chichi nearly jumped. Gohan's energy! She hadn't remembered to tell him to lower it-- but a reassuring hand on her arm told her all she needed to know. He'd lowered it. In fact, as long as he didn't get angry, he probably wouldn't need to tweak at all; he could fly under the martial arts version of radar quite well.
"Of course I don't," said the image of Son Goku, grinning. "I'm not here in my real physical body. Just a... uh... tactile apparition."
Chichi crossed her fingers. That had been Gohan's word for it, not something her husband would actually use!
Thankfully, Vegeta seemed to buy it.
"You're still dead," he said, then paused. "Can you fight like that?"
One-track mind.
"Oh, I dunno, Vegeta," said Oolong, and rubbed the back of his neck, frowning. "I was just here checking up on everybody, but I got the timing wrong, and everyone else was asleep..."
Chichi grinned. This guy was actually pretty good!
Vegeta grunted. "Well, if you've come here just to waste time, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you. Those of us who are still living have work to do."
"Wait, Vegeta!" complained Oolong. "I guess I could try. Wait a sec... I got this stuff from the Kais a while back..." He rummaged in his voluminous orange pants, and took out a bottle of dark orange liquid.
"What is that?" said Vegeta, suspiciously.
"Kinda like a booster juice... you want some?"
Chichi slapped a hand to her head. Oolong had just abandoned the entire plan! This was where he was supposed to go into how the liquid was a mysterious substance that raised the fighting ability of the whole person, so it would make his avatar more substantial in the earthly plane, thus able to fight if Vegeta drank from the other bottle to make himself more insubstantial so they could meet halfway between planes and fight there...
"Fine," growled the Prince of Saiyans. Oolong handed him the bottle of red liquid, and he downed it in one fell gulp. "Now can we stop wasting time and sp.. pa... arrrrrrrschnpxzzzzz...."
And with only the slightest and most graceful of thuds, the diminutive figure collapsed to the ground, dead asleep.
Chichi and Gohan ran out from the bushes to where Oolong, popping back into the form of a pig, gingerly lifted an arm, then let go. It flopped down like wilted spaghetti.
"I can't believe it," said the pig. "It actually worked!" He looked at the body of the Prince of Saiyans, which lay snoring in a little limp lump. "I can't believe it was so easy..."
"You were brilliant!" gushed Chichi. "How'd you know he'd just drink it like that?"
"I, ah..." Oolong trailed off sheepishly, then muttered quickly, turning red: "Kinda forgot what I was supposed to say..."
"Hey, I wrote that part!" Gohan frowned.
Oolong tried to lift a sculpted leg by its ankle, then gave up. "How's a guy this small this heavy, anyway?"
"Solid muscle," Gohan grinned, ruefully.
"And allll of it completely relaxed," Chichi grinned mischeivously. "Well, boys? We did it. We defeated His Highness Vegeta-- and without having to land a single blow." She nudged His Highness with her foot. "We'll get him back in the gravity room, and he'll wake up a little tired, and think it was all some sort of strange vision, most likely. Ha! Brains over brawn!" Unable to resist, she made a victory sign.
"Well, I'm not carrying him," Oolong muttered.
Offhandedly, Son Gohan lifted up the body. It snored.
"OK," Oolong said, "You seem to have this under control. Congratulations, both of you... you owe me a dinner, remember... well, I'm..." and with a last cowardly look at the body draped over Gohan's shoulder, Oolong vanished away into the night.
Chichi snorted. And here she had almost been ready to forgive and forget the way that creature behaved!
"We should get out of here before he wakes up," Gohan said.
"Him? He'll be out until morning."
"I think he's waking up," Gohan insisted, nervously. "His arm twitched a second ago."
"What? He shouldn't be able to even move the brain cell to think about twitching a muscle!" Chichi squinted at Vegeta's body in the dim light, and caught an unmistakeable twitch in his thigh muscle. Then another along his spine.
"No," she breathed. "It can't do this. I don't understand! The... this isn't even a possible side effect of the drug! What's going on?"
"What was in the drink before you drugged it?" Gohan said, an unmistakeable note of panic in his voice. "Could it be an interaction?"
"It's just cherry soda!" Chichi protested. "Bulma said Vegeta never takes any other drugs, either; matter of pride, he thinks it weakens the body. Oh, Kami..." she trailed off, as Vegeta's body twitched again, violently, and again.
"He's going into convulsions," Gohan said. "Ma!" He turned to her, hurt, and the look in his eyes made her grow pale. He was blaming her. Of course he would blame her. This whole misconceived scheme had been at her behest. But I only wanted to help you, Chichi wanted to say; I only wanted to show you you didn't have to shoulder the burden of the planet on yourself. That you could be free to pursue a normal life, that you weren't the only one who could defend people! But Chichi didn't say any of this; she found herself mute, unable to speak, hardly able to stand, as Vegeta's back arched in the grips of a spasm. As his hand stretched out, a light flew from it, striking a nearby tree; it burst into flame.
"Ma!" Gohan said, and his voice was forceful, suddenly, and remarkably calm. "Get Bulma. Get help." Lights were turning on inside of Capsule Corps. "Whatever this is, his ki control is as shot as his muscle control. I'll try to keep him from doing any damage to anyone. Go!"
Chichi turned and fled toward the house. It suddenly seemed strangely far, as if the world had telescoped around her. Everything seemed to be going slowly, and topsy-turvy; somewhere she could hear Trunks wailing, and the sound of footsteps. Somehow it had all gone horribly wrong, and she had no idea how. It wasn't supposed to be this way; she was supposed to be in charge so her son wouldn't have to be. She was supposed to be the protector for a change. Instead the tables had been turned on her, she didn't know how, she didn't know by who, her son looked at her from eyes more disappointed and betrayed than accusatory; she had failed, failed him, Vegeta was dying, and her son had been replaced with that cold, calculating warrior she'd been trying to help him cast away, and suddenly it was just one more time he had to save the world-- just one more parent turned dependent on him, just one more step to growing old frighteningly before his time--
Chichi didn't make it across the garden to the back door of the house. Someone struck a blow to her solar plexus, hard, her breath was stolen from her lips, and the world blinked away.
...to be continued...