By: Kichi
DISCLAIMER: Akira Toriyama created DBZ, not me.
Chapter 4
Three hours dragged by at a snail's pace as she watched
Vegeta heal. The strange green tinge from the blood and fluid mixing
had disappeared. She figured it was a good sign. She had tried
to see for herself if the wound was gone, but the concave glass for viewing
the patients made everything warped when she got close and tried to look
down at Vegeta's waist. She sighed in irritation and sat down across
from him, against the wall. After about a half hour she felt her
eyelids drooping…
She was jolted awake by a loud, persistent beeping.
She saw Vegeta glaring at her as he tapped insistently on the glass.
She quickly jumped to her feet as a hairline crack appeared in the glass
and dashed to the console to begin draining. The fluid line went
down rapidly without so much as a sound. Bulma had studied the outside
of the chamber as much as she could, and was fascinated by what she saw
so far. But before she took one apart to study and make diagrams,
she had to see if it worked.
Vegeta had already torn off the sensors and breathing mask and soon
the fluid line dipped beneath the hatch and it swung open. Bulma's
eyes bulged in shock as Vegeta stepped out fully healed. The only
sign of the wound was a tiny, pink scar and his shorts which were still
slightly stained with blood.
"Holy shit!" she exclaimed.
"What?" Vegeta said with a frown.
"I can't believe how well these work! I have
to disassemble it and see how it works!" She cried excitedly.
"What?!" He snapped, now confused and annoyed.
How the hell was she going to take it apart? And why waste such time?
"It will revolutionize hospitals and health-care!
Think of all the possibilities right in front of me!" she breathed, almost
awed. Vegeta was momentarily silenced by her beauty as her eyes sparkled
with wonder. But why was she so fascinated by the regeneration tank?
He knew Chikyuu was primitive, but if this was such a great discovery to
her, what did they have now to treat injuries and disease? He shuddered
to think, remembering the strange things some backward cultures did to
heal the sick.
He was glad that Saiyans were immune to all but
the most aggressive virus. Before his time with Frieza he'd never
known disease. He'd never dreamt of such a thing. Injuries
from fighting he understood, but an invisible tiny … thing, that could
slowly eat you away until only skin and bones were left filled him with
revulsion.
And it was because of Frieza that he came to know
of diseases. He'd been sent to purge a planet about ten years ago.
He remembered being pissed because of the natives battle strength.
They were about as weak as Chikyuu-jins. It was pathetic.
But once there he hadn't even needed to fight.
The race was already dying. He saw wasted corpses everywhere.
Some still lived, but they burned with fever and ranted with their delusions
of slow, fiery death.
He should have left immediately. But he didn't
know. He informed the tyrant who held his life in check that everyone
was dropping dead before his eyes. When he thought back on it later,
he wanted to believe that Frieza knew all along the state of the planet
he'd sent him to; that everything he'd said after his report was nothing
but a superb act. But logic and his own memory defied that thought.
Frieza had immediately ordered him back and to report
to medical before he did anything else upon his return. He'd noted
a hint of concern in the lizard's voice. Not for Vegeta himself,
of course. He wasn't stupid and wasn't even tempted with entertaining
such a notion. When he reflected back on all that would happen next,
he knew Frieza would have had a third of his army wiped out in one sweep
if anyone came into contact with him. Thus the hint of concern.
He was no fool.
But at the time he didn't know what was going on,
only that he must obey or die. And he could not die by Frieza's hands.
He smiled bitterly at his past ambition. But ignored that train of
thought and continued with the previous.
He had done as ordered. He went to medical
and they examined him and after a half hour of humiliating "testing" they
let him go, finding nothing.
The next day he woke feeling slightly nauseated.
Being completely unfamiliar with the sensation, he ignored it and headed
for the morning briefing. He was tired and sluggish as he trudged
through the halls as well, but shrugged it off as lack of sleep.
As he stood in Frieza's audience with half of his men on the ship a curious
feeling came over him. First he was hot. So hot that he broke
out into a sweat. Then he began to shiver as his blood seemed to
be replaced with ice water. Then he felt hot again, then cold alternating
over and over. In addition to that, he was getting very dizzy and
sitting down seemed like the most important thing to do at the moment.
He heard someone gasping. Deep, heaving breaths that did not stop.
After a moment he realized it was him, but that didn't really matter because
the floor was suddenly rushing up to meet his face.
How long had he been unconscious? Probably
only a few minutes, he never had thought to ask. But he woke back
in medical with three familiar faces staring down at him. Two were
doctors who had treated him before, the other was Frieza. He was
arguing with the doctors. Telling them to put him in the tank.
They assured him that without the right remedy it would only speed that
Saiyan's demise. He remembered smiling as Frieza cursed. But
the smile faded quickly. He was still having sweats and chills and
his stomach was twisting in agony. His head was pounding, another
new experience for him, and his vision was so blurred he could really only
tell who was who by hearing them speak. He couldn't catch their scent,
his nose was curiously clogged.
".. look at his pupils. See how he shakes?
These are the first signs of the burning death, it will only get worse."
"How is this possible? Half of this galaxy
belongs to me! Tell me where to find this shit! I need this
damn monkey! If he dies, you will all die with him."
"Knassas, sir. Three days trip going full
speed in this ship. A pod would take over a week. He will not
last more than four days, even with the Saiyan's healing ability.
This disease cripples the immune system long enough to kill the host.
It has two components which make it so deadly. Some cells head for
the immune system, the rest work on shutting down everything else.
It was engineered about two-hundred years ago by-"
"Yes, yes, I don't need a history lesson.
I know what happened next. I was hoping it wasn't the same one."
Frieza snapped and then, faintly he could hear the lizard making demands
over the communications link.
Then there was bright light. The pain was
like a knife between his eyes. He cried out in agony, unable to hold
it back and struggled to get away. Firm hands held him down easily,
was he that weak? He couldn't figure out what had happened.
All that was certain was that he'd never felt more wretched in his life.
His stomach was about to rebel but he felt tiny pricks of pain and then
all faded.
When he woke he was told that two weeks had passed.
He ate all the food offered to him and promptly vomited it back up.
He would have been repulsed seeing as it was yet another first for him,
but was too disoriented to really notice. The days melted into a
haze of fever dreams broken by waking to Frieza screaming obscenities at
the doctors. He wondered if he would die, but supposed that he already
would have by that time. He had begun to wish that he would, instead
of lingering for days in a stupor. The pain was not nearly as intense,
the pounding in his head had subsided to a dull throbbing, but his stomach
seemed to be eating itself from hunger.
Then he woke from a dream in which he'd been forced
into a boiling cauldron and found several doctors, Frieza, Nappa and Radditz
hovering over him. He tried to speak, but his tongue was swollen.
He wasn't sure what to say anyway. Except perhaps, that he might
die of starvation before anything else. The gnawing hunger was foremost
in his mind then, nothing else. Not the fever, not the cold, and
not the now-familiar ache behind his eyes.
"Will he live much longer?" it was Nappa, and how
strange he'd sounded! Tired and grieving, not like himself at all!
Frieza, as always was cool and controlled, but he detected barely restrained
rage behind the smooth voice.
"He must." Was all he said.
"I thought this stuff was supposed to work." Radditz
snarled. The doctors assured him that it was, but it took hours to
begin to work.
After that, everything faded to black.
The next time he woke it was pitch dark and his stomach
was roaring in fury. The pain was intense, as if his stomach was
eating itself. He felt a little better though. The room had
stopped spinning, his head still hurt a little, but it was nothing compared
to before, and his core temperature seemed to be normal. He sat up
and swung his legs over the side of the bed and stepped down. His
legs trembled, but he did not collapse.
Walking was more difficult, he found himself staggering
to the door, and then down the hall. He needed food.
He spotted Kuui in one of the winding corridors
as he stumbled to the mess hall. Kuui immediately turned around and
ran the other way. Curious. He'd always stopped to insult the
young Saiyan before.
But he wasn't about to question his good luck.
Finally he made it and lurched into the freezer and began to devour everything
he could. Large slabs of meat were skeletonized in minutes. And thankfully
he was able to keep it all down.
Finally, after he'd eaten his fill and the freezer
was quite bare, he realized that he felt perfectly fine. His head
felt better, he felt a bit of his old strength returning as well.
Frieza found him with almost a smile on his face. And strangely the
tyrant did not hide his pleasure that Vegeta was well. He gave him
the rest of the day to himself and informed him that tomorrow he'd join
Nappa and Radditz on a mission.
And that was it.
So was this why he was letting the onna indulge in this
seeming waste of time? Perhaps, but what did it matter to him if
she could duplicate a regeneration tank?
He shook himself out of the daydream. Bulma
was already busy. She tossed a capsule to the floor which popped
into a huge tool box. Vegeta was stunned. If they had this
unheard of technology, why no healing chambers? He shook his head
at the oddities of humanity.
Bulma felt a tap on her shoulder as she began to
unscrew a bolt with a large wrench.
"Hmm?" she said, turning to face him. "It
did work, right?" she said, realizing that she hadn't bothered to ask how
he felt. "Do you feel alright?" she said, noticing a strange look
on his face.
"What do you care?" he snapped, more out of reflex
than anything else. She threw him a hurt, reproachful glance and
returned to her work.
"Sorry for caring." She muttered.
"I don't want your petty human 'caring'. Sentiment
makes me retch. I was only going to tell you that I will load the
ship and come get you. Be done with this foolishness by then."
"Fine!" she huffed and proceeded to ignore him.
He found several stores of perishable food which
he crammed into the extra-large refrigerator. He even packed in tons
of dry goods into the unused spaces of the ship until it was literally
stuffed with food. He also found more combat uniforms but no armor
or gloves in his size and the uniforms were black. He preferred blue,
but it was better than nothing. And he was unable to find any boots!
The lack of armor confused him, but it didn't much matter. So he
was bare foot. He'd rather have armor than boots or gloves.
He had sufficient clothing, that was good enough for the moment.
Now that the ship had enough food he should check
the fuel, but again, he was unable to read the onna's strange symbol language
and was forced to seek her assistance.
He was shocked to find the tank nearly unrecognizable.
Bulma looked up as she heard his step and her eyes lit up, and strangely
enough, gave Vegeta goose bumps. But he didn't notice as the onna
immediately began to squeal excitedly.
"Its amazing Vegeta! And the best part is I will
be able to duplicate it! My father will be so excited when he sees
this!" She had black smudges on her clothing and skin, but for some
reason it seemed to enhance her beauty. She continued to prattle
on as he stared stupidly. He came out of his trance with an abrupt
toss of his head. What the hell was wrong with him? Why was
his admitted attraction to the onna becoming so distracting?
Was it because he didn't want it? It would make sense. It was
always his luck. Whatever he'd ever craved was forever denied him.
Whatever he wanted to keep away was always thrust in his face.
He realized that the room had abruptly gone silent
and that he was staring.
"I told you to be done when I got back." She
sat up straighter and he saw her eyes narrow.
"You can't be done already." She replied.
"I will as soon as you show me how to refill the
fuel tank and what kind of fuel it takes. Hopefully its not something
native to your wretched planet."
"Oh Kami, no." she said, her voice dripping with
disdain. "It would be an unspeakable tragedy to be stuck here with
the almighty Saiyan no Ouji forever." She turned away with her nose
in the air.
"Damn wench!" Vegeta snarled. "I have no time
for your stupidity. Now hurry up or you won't have time to finish
with this hunk of metal. Which, by the way, I don't see how an idiot
like you could possible rebuild it, let alone to function." Bulma
shot to her feet with surprising swiftness, her face a dull, angry red.
"Why are you such an asshole? Why can't you
at least be civil for five seconds? What the hell is wrong with you?
I was in a good mood and you've ruined it! Why does everyone have
to be as miserable as you?" she ended, shouting.
His dark eyes narrowed and the corner of his mouth
slid up in a twisted sneer.
"I doubt you know what true misery is." He replied.
He looked as if he would say more, but merely shrugged as if he'd completely
lost interest in the argument. "Come on." He said, and headed back
to the ship without even looking to see if she'd follow.
She was enraged by his casual dismissal of her reasonable
anger. His arrogance was disgusting! Who the hell did he think
he was? But she followed him regardless, planning her next assault.
"I'm sure you know what misery is." She began, her
voice flat and calm. "You've seen it in each face of those you've
murdered!" she finished with a hiss.
"The pain of other's is not my concern." He said
coldly, not turning to look at her. He continued walking with an
easy grace that Bulma couldn't help but admire. Nor could she ignore
how attractive he was in the black body suit. But her anger would
not allow her to dwell on it for more than a moment.
"Is that so? Then why did you stay with me
last night when I asked you to?" she snapped, delight barely hidden in
her voice. He almost stopped in his tracks. She had him, damn
it. The question had been plaguing him as well. Why had he
stayed with her?
He knew why, but his pride forbade him to even think
it. Finally he stopped walking as the silence stretched. He
didn't know what to say. The truth was out of the question.
But why bother to lie? Better to say nothing.
So he ignored her and continued walking.
"Coward." She hissed.
Before she could draw a breath to scream his hands
were around her neck.
"I should kill you now!" he bellowed. "You
have no right to question me! I owe you no explanations! And
don't worry, I won't make the mistake of pitying your ass again!" and he
shoved her back. She landed on her butt and winced as pain shot up
her spine.
What the hell was she doing? Did she want
to die? Or was that even an appropriate question? Of course
it was. She was only alive to fly the ship. Nothing more.
It was the only reason he hadn't just snapped her neck. She bit her
lip, feeling stupid for her outburst. She had no right to call him
a coward either. He was utterly fearless. But he was
just so mean! She quickly got to her feet, brushed the dirt from
her clothes, and trotted after Vegeta.
Once inside the ship Bulma explained the controls
for fueling and then took off, heading to the base. They flew it
in the landing bay and they silently attached hoses to the ship that would
carry the combustible fluids to the holding tanks. Once they were
finished Bulma cleared her throat.
"Vegeta." she said softly. She saw him stiffen and
he silently turned to face her. For a moment her courage failed her
as she was pierced by his angry, ebony eyes.
"I'm sorry." She said softly, her eyes falling to
stare at her feet. "I didn't mean what I said. I just wanted
to know…" She trailed off.
"Fine." He muttered "Finish up with the tank
so we can leave." He then turned away without another word and headed
inside the ship.
She had finished all her drawings about two hours
later. She found him inside, asleep. Only four hours
had passed since he'd come out of the tank. He'd slept in there,
and that had been only about a half hour after they woke together with
his tail around his waist. How long had he been missing out on sleep?
She turned away and headed back to the controls and began the lift-off
procedure.
I should wake him.. I don't know where
he wants to go. It will take about a month to get home. Longer
if I have to drop him off. What if he wants to go the opposite way
of Chikyuu? She dashed back to the bedroom and suddenly the ship
took off! She was flung onto the bed with a shriek. The computerized
voice was supposed to warn her before lift off! But the thought was
quickly swept away as they broke through the atmosphere. She could
feel herself reeling backwards. Her eyes widened as her fall was
abruptly halted. She felt the collar of her shirt choking her as
Vegeta grasped the fabric in back.
"Let go." She rasped and she was falling again.
She landed in a heap and she sat up quickly to shoot the Saiyan an evil
glare. He lay on his back, yawning and stretching languidly.
And she was once again struggling between rage and desire as she stared
at him. He rolled back and forth a few times and was again sleeping
as if nothing had happened. His tail flicked lazily, back and forth
and she again felt the desire to touch it. Why she continually felt
compelled each time she saw it, she couldn't say. She had briefly
felt the silky fur before. Wasn't that enough? Something about
the way Vegeta reacted upon catching her increased her curiosity.
She felt like she'd taken a dare at a pre-teen sleep-over. She felt
giddy with excitement as she crept near.
Her hands hovered over it for a moment as nervous
tension stilled all movement. She prayed he wouldn't wake before
she'd gotten to touch it. She felt a blush stain her cheeks.
She suddenly felt like Master Roshi staring at a nudie magazine.
Stop it. She mentally scolded.
And before she was fully aware she was twirling the tip of the silky tail
around her fingers. Then she gently grasped the appendage and stroked
it from base to tip. The sudden response she got was the least expected.
Vegeta moaned softly and his tail snaked around her waist pulling her close.
His arms wrapped around her and she froze in fear. But he was still
asleep, she could tell by his breathing. It had quickened slightly,
but nothing more. What really concerned her was the sudden hardness
she felt pressing to her ass as he unconsciously pulled her close.
She shook her head, amazed at her own stupidity. Now Vegeta was going
to freak if he woke up. What was she going to say? Suddenly
his hands began to roam across her body. Was he awake?
"Vegeta?" she whispered.
HAHAHA!!! Evil cliffhanger!! KYAHAHAHA!!!
TBC…
Chapter 5
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