Last time:
"Woman," he sighed. "You never cease to amaze me."
"Perfect," she laughed, the natural feeling of happiness flooding her veins. "It's good to know that this fire will never go out."
**********************************************
Only a week left on Fewskm, and Bulma and Vegeta would be heading home. It was a long talk with surprisingly only a few short, heated words, that decided the date of departure. Vegeta had suggested they leave the next morning and get back to Earth as soon as possible, while Bulma wished to stay another two weeks, at least, to bask in the irresponsibility she'd become accustomed to while being away; plus, she was far too attached to Furto and the others to simply up and leave. So, one week was decided on and they both seemed mildly satisfied with the decision.
Bulma informed Furto, Senju, Golana, and Jemalin of their departure date the next day, teary-eyed and nearly unable to control her sobbing. By the end of her small speech of gratitude, almost the entire household was gathered around them, all wanting to wish her well for the rest of her years. It was decided that a small banquet would be held the night before the two aliens were to leave Fewskm, and then they would simply go. It had been too much for Bulma when she left Uvagon behind; she didn't want a long, drawn out farewell only moments before take-off. It would be unbearable.
It wasn't until the two days had passed that Vegeta slipped back into his normal behavior; ignoring Bulma, trying to pick fights, and being an all-around pain in the ass. This she had expected, though she was sad to see the softer version of her lover fade out. It had been quite interesting to wake up in his arms, his face buried in the crook of her neck, simply breathing in her scent and enjoying the fact that she was his, and his alone.
Now when she awoke, she found the place beside her cold and his imprint hardly there. She sighed deeply and swung her legs out of bed, pulling on her robe as she stood. Without needing to be told, she knew exactly where he was. For the past few days he'd been ranting about having not gotten any training done while away from Earth.
She walked lazily into the kitchen, pressed the start button of the coffee maker, then headed outside to find her mate. As she descended the ramp, a great yawn escaped her, and she almost didn't see the flash that was Vegeta across the sky. Seconds later he landed in front of her, his face, and body, covered with a sheen of sweat, and panting slightly.
"How long have you been training?" she asked, feeling another yawn coming on. She tried to stifle it.
"Since I was old enough to walk," he snapped, trudging past her and up the ramp. She only rolled her eyes at his behavior and followed him into the bathroom, where she knew he was going. She knew his training routine well enough, and smiled as he didn't bat an eyelash when he realized she was right behind him. "Do you think this kind of behavior is proper for my mate? Follow me around like a puppy." He pealed off his blue spandex training suit and tossed it on the floor, glancing over at Bulma, telling her with his eyes to take her clothes off as well, and completely contradicting his words.
"I think I will do as I please," she said nonchalantly, shrugging out of her robe, then her skimpy nightdress. She instinctively spread her hands across her not-yet-swollen belly and sighed deeply. In nine months' time she'd be a mother. And Vegeta would be a father.
In noticing this, Vegeta walked over and wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his hands atop hers. She understood the simple gesture well enough and smiled inwardly. Through his actions, he was telling her not to worry about the baby and that everything, including them, would be fine.
"I love you more than life, Vegeta," she whispered, saying exactly what was on her mind. "I don't know how…but I do…" He sensed that it was one of those intimate moments that, if ruined, could put permanent dent in their new and fragile relationship. So, instead of hissing a bitter remark, or shoving her away, he gently kissed her ear, then reached over and started the shower.
************************************************************
"Tell me again why I have to come along?" Vegeta grunted, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
"Because," Bulma sighed, as if she were ready to give up on him already, "I enjoy your company. Besides, it won't take that long. We only have to deliver these vials—" She held up a small contraption containing a few dozen vials of Elpinosus. "—and then we're done. Ok? It's the least I could do for Furto and his people after all they did for me."
He only rolled his eyes and continued along next to her, his hands still stubbornly buried in his pockets, refusing to hold Bulma, even after she hooked her free arm around his waist.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, the sun baking into their skin, they arrived at their destination: The Infirmary, where all those who'd contracted Denj-sa, or other diseases, were located. It was a massive building of thick mud bricks and mortar, its windows simply carved into the sides and covered with thin pieces of dark fabric. Along the outside were wilting, untended flowers, and weedy bushes. It was obvious that the sick inside took all the time of those who would be in charge of the upkeep of the outside. And a grim sense of foreboding washed over Bulma as she saw those sad little brown flowers, nearly crisped like dead leaves; the welcoming committee to the Ward of the Dying, the name Furto had whispered under his breath when referring to the section of the hospital reserved exclusively for Denj-sa; the most fatal of all diseases on Fewskm.
The door to the building was crudely carved out of wood and held in place with spikes of iron and clumps of sloppily applied mortar. There were no guards. In fact, there seemed to be no one in sight whatsoever. The small pond, fed by a stream, to the right of the building, was vacant, even on such a hot day as today. Bulma wondered if those inside were in such low spirits that even the thought of fun and relaxation wounded their already beaten hopes.
"It's like they're already dead," Bulma whispered, clutching the vial-carrier tighter in her hand so not to lose it. She had more than enough for those inside that Furto knew had Denj-sa. It was a rare disease on Fewsk these days, but deadly nonetheless.
A blood-curdling cry ripped through the air, startling Bulma into almost dropping her precious load. She looked around frantically for the source of the horrifying sound. A female Fewsk, no older than ten, came barreling around the corner of The Infirmary, in nothing more than a rudimentary tunic and nothing on her feet. It wasn't until she ran past the two aliens, not even glancing at them, that Bulma noticed the small bluish dots that covered her skin. Moments later, an adult female Fewsk came running after the little girl, her skin bearing the same complexion.
Bulma waited until they were out of sight to speak.
"What do they have?"
"Katoskas," Vegeta murmured, as if it were a forbidden word.
"Are they going to—"
"It isn't fatal," he answered quickly. "But the infected do experience uncontrollable bouts of…insanity."
"Is there a cure?"
"No. But it only lasts a few months."
"I see," she sighed, a shiver passing through her. How bizarre the diseases of space were compared to those on Earth.
"Not at all. Fewsks would turn over in their graves if they heard about AIDS or the Ebola virus."
Bulma only gave him a questioning look. She hadn't any idea that he knew so much about the Earth.
"Woman," he laughed, finally pulling one hand from his pocket to wrap his arm around her shoulder. "One must always research a new planet for diseases before landing. It's only logical."
As they passed through the corridors of the hospital, several heads turned at their presence, but no attempt was made to greet them, or at least ask them what they, aliens, were doing in a Fewsk hospital. All faces they caught, even for an instant, were sullen and drawn, devoid of any hope for cures. It seemed they'd entered the section of the hospital where the word hope was taboo and all those bedridden souls had but one thought: I'm going to die.
Each new corridor was coupled with a sign, bearing the names and directions of certain areas of the hospital. Bulma quickly find out that words in red meant fatal, for every time they walked through a "red" corridor, death lingered over the bodies of the sick, like a hazy blanket, ever reminding them that they would never escape their prison, never again breathe fresh air, or simply laugh with loved ones.
"Vegeta," Bulma whispered. She couldn't take it anymore. She had to know…"Why is everyone so…sad?"
"Fewsks only seek medical assistance outside their homes when the diseases are uncontrollable or ultimately fatal."
"Then why wasn't I brought here?"
"I wouldn't have it," he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the universe.
"Vegeta, I can FEEL the death here. Everyone is…They're all…"
"I know, woman. That's why I protested you coming here. Now you will see first hand the true effects of Denj-sa."
"But that won't matter, right? I mean, I have Elpinosus. They can all be cured. That's why I came here."
"You don't understand, woman." He shook his head at the floor. "Some are too far along in the disease to be cured. Their bodies are barely hanging on. When they breathe it hurts. When they blink it hurts. There's nothing more that can help them. Not even Elpinosus."
"Oh…" was all she said, as they continued walking.
*******************************************************
"Elpinosus!" a Fewsk healer cried, reaching his hands out to grab the vials, though shrunk back as if touching them would some how contaminate the cure. "But how! The Geramones! How! Tell me!"
"Please, calm down," Bulma whispered, trying her best to be soothing. "I'll explain everything. But first I need to know how many patients you have that can be cured with this." She held up the vials, their glass glittering in the light. The Fewsk reached out once more to touch the beautiful cure, though again retracted his arm, clutching it to his chest as his body convulsed with shivers of pure joy and astonishment. It was feared that the Elpin were completely unattainable now and no one contracting Denj-sa would have a chance.
"Ten," he said, trying to steady his voice. "They live in the room at the end of the hall."
"And how many that cannot be saved?"
"Thirty or so," he sighed, forcing his shaky hands to his sides.
"I see." She lifted her chin and held back her tears. No. She was not going to cry. "Can you bring me to them, first?"
"But—"
"Please. I've had Denj-sa. I've been cured. I just…I need to see them. I can't explain it."
"I understand."
The Fewsk healer had tried to warn her as they approached the Ward of the Dying that she would wish she hadn't come. And he was absolutely right.
Skeletons of former Fewsks, barely breathing, lay in rows of beds, all their eyes shut and sunken in so deep that it looked as though their eyes were completely gone. Most were recognizable as Fewsks, though some, those who could die at any moment, resembled nothing more than heaps of gray matter tucked into course blankets.
"It—It—It's horrifying," Bulma stuttered, curling into Vegeta's embrace, though she could not—no matter how hard she tried—keep her eyes off the dying. "Can they even m-move?"
"Afraid not," the healer sighed, his face contorted into a mixture of repulsion and sadness. "Most cannot even open their eyes. And some, the few most unlucky, they are blind or deaf."
"How long have they been sick?"
"Years."
"But haven't they—I mean—Wouldn't they want to just…" But she couldn't finish what she was thinking.
"I know what you're trying to say, Miss. And yes, many have asked that we end…their lives. But we are healers and cannot do such things." He gulped loudly and turned away from the diseased. "Once every so often a group of warriors come in and inform us that they are here to answer the pleas of the dying. We shun them away, no matter how loud the cries become…We cannot simply…let them die…"
"Can I see the curable now? I'm afraid I'll pass out if I stay here a moment longer."
"Of course."
They reached the Denj-sa Ward moments later, a heavy cloud of despair hanging over Bulma's head. And to think, she would have died the easy way, having suffered only minimally, while those here had suffered for years and would continue suffering after she was well on her way to Earth. How unfair it was that they could not have the Elpinosus, have their second chance at life. But she knew, even if they were cured, that the lasting effects of the disease would cripple them. Their suffering could never truly end.
"Miss, Prince Vegeta, these are the infected," the healer said upon opening the door.
"Hello there!" a few of the Fewsks inside called, waving frantically, and…smiling? Bulma had to blink a few times to ensure that she was seeing correctly.
"Hi," she murmured, stepping slowly into the room. Why were they so happy? Didn't they know what would become of them in time? Hadn't they visited the disintegrating Fewsks?
"Oh! Look!" one of the female Fewsks said, her straw-like hair very tall and wrapped in bands of colored ribbon. "It's the Saiyan Prince! And an Earthling! My! What a day!"
"Excuse me," Bulma managed to get out. "But why are you all…I mean…How…" She bit her lip in frustration. There was no good why to ask.
"Why are we happy, you mean?"
She nodded.
"Making the most of our time left. We figured that having Denj-sa just gives us all an excuse to not work and have fun all day. We're the only ward that laughs. Hell, we're the only ward that has colored walls with pictures and poems painted on them."
"Oh…Well…I have some good news for you." She held out the vials of Elpinosus, her arm shaking slightly. She couldn't even begin to wonder why she was so nervous. And then, as the reality sunk in for those who were infected, she understood her fear. She had been so miserable and childish when she was infected; sullen, dreary, so much like all the faces she'd passed on her way in. And now, to see Fewsks with Denj-sa and a reason to be happy, she felt completely foolish and selfish. If only she'd had that mentality throughout her disease. Maybe things would have been different then. Maybe she and Vegeta wouldn't have fought so much. But then again, Vegeta fought with everyone.
"But how!" the same female Fewsk yelled, stumbling over to them. "The Geranomes—How!?" Now this is what Bulma had been expecting.
"We traveled to Geranoma and retrieved the Elpin," Bulma forced out, handing the vials to her. She took them hastily and ran to her friends on the other side of the room, all of who were trembling with joy and a new hope that they would finally be out of the hospital. No matter how optimistic they'd been before, they simply couldn't ignore the significance of the little vials of healing liquid. "You need to take three," she finally said. "One every six hours." She turned to the healer, whose eyes were watering with joy. "You'll monitor them?"
"Of course, Miss. We simply cannot thank you enough for this gift. You have saved ten lives. You cannot know how much this means to us."
She smiled genuinely at him, then drew her face in, setting her eyes and mood to seriousness. "Is there any way to preserve the Elpinosus for those who may contract Denj-sa later on?"
"Yes, yes. The future is looking better."
"Oh, and I should inform you that the Elpin will be moved off of Geranoma and to a planet where it can be accessible to all. Denj-sa is no longer a threat to your people."
*********************************************************
"Kami that felt good," Bulma sighed, breathing in the cooler evening air. The light of day was just beginning to fade into the horizon, leaving warmth in the sand, and a refreshing breeze as well. "I can't believe we're going home already. It seems like we've barely been here. I'm going to miss this boiling blue planet so much."
"You were just whining about how you want to go home. Make up your mind."
"Oh, it's made up," she laughed. "Believe me. I cannot wait to get home and see my parents and friends, but I'm still going to miss the Fewsks." She took a deep breath and curled into Vegeta's arms as they walked. All the pieces of her life were finally falling into place. She had a husband (sort of), a child on the way, and a great love that enveloped her and sent a cold chill of ecstasy down her spine. She had it all, and it was all because of Vegeta. Not Yamcha. Not the man she'd thought for so long would be with her for the rest of her life. He was gone, thank Kami, and she was truly happy with Vegeta, something she never thought could be possible, and those on Earth would have a tremendously hard time grasping. Bulma and Vegeta, the two most volatile beings to ever walk Planet Earth. It was a wonder they didn't literally tear each other's heads off during an argument.
"You know," Vegeta suddenly said, just as they were approaching their ship. They'd taken to sleeping on the ship and visiting with the Fewsks once they woke up. Today just happened to be slightly different with the trip to The Infirmary. "You still need to master your telepathy. And we better get it done here, because once we land on Earth, I'm locking myself away to train."
His words didn't surprise her in the least. In fact, she was glad that he was finally going to train. The thought of him getting hurt or—shudder—dying in battle was unthinkable. Now that she had him, she was not going to let some vile hunks of metal and wires steal him away for the sake of infantile revenge. Damn that Dr. Gero! If it wasn't for him Vegeta, and the others, wouldn't be put in unnecessary danger and they couldn't simply live their lives in peace. But that would never happen. Some being or other was always trying to kill Goku or Vegeta or blow up the Earth for some inane reason. Besides, if it wasn't for Dr. Gero and his androids, then Vegeta would never have launched into space to train, and she wouldn't have accidentally been stuck onboard, and they would have probably never fallen so deeply in love.
"Sounds like a plan, my friend," she said, climbing the ramp to the ship. "Tonight?"
"Yes, woman, tonight. Aren't you and your ridiculous Fewsk friends doing something tomorrow?"
"Oh yeah!" She smacked the butt of her hand into her forehead and laughed. "That's right. Furto and Senju are taking me to the ocean on the other side of the planet. Have you ever been there? They said it's really pretty."
"I've been there," he said in his usual monotone voice. "Golana dragged me there once."
"Golana, huh?" A pang of jealousy ran through her, but she banished it immediately. There was no reason for her to be jealous of another when she knew full well that Vegeta chose her, and no one else, to be his mate, and never would. It was wonderfully clear that she was the only being he'd ever even considered sharing his shut-in life with. She smiled at this little piece of knowledge, something she would carry with her until the end of her days. "I like her. I'm going to miss her, too. She helped me a lot with my…er…doubts…"
"Don't say that as if it never happened, woman. You had doubts with us, as I did. That's nothing to cower at." But inwardly he was slightly bruised by her words and the fact that she had doubted them, even with the all evidence that they were completely perfect for one another, and no one else. Though he hardly believed in soul mates.
"Neither do I," Bulma said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, then bolted into the ship before he could comprehend her words. Had she just—?
"Woman!"
"Yes, dear?" she giggled, popping open a can of root beer, which she chugged with astoundingly unladylike grace. "Something wrong?"
"How is it that you can read my thoughts? I haven't taught you the first thing about that kind of telepathy. Explain yourself."
"Wish I could," she said with a shrug. "But I really don't know how it happened." She tossed the can in the recycling disposal, then said, "I've been able to quote unquote hear your thoughts since we mated. I just never let on to it. I wanted you to treat me how you were planning on treating me. Besides, what's the big deal? Now you don't have to waste a whole bunch of time teaching me something that I'm sure would have taken me weeks to learn had it not come naturally. It's a good thing."
"You should have told me."
"Why? So you could shield your thoughts from me? I don't think so pal. If you can openly read my thoughts, I sure as hell want to be able to read yours."
"Ah," he laughed smugly, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the now closed door. "So you haven't figured out how to close off your mind then?"
"No, not yet. I figured you'd teach me that now."
"I don't think so, woman. You violated my trust. You're going to have to deal with me prying into your thoughts."
"Your trust!" she snapped, slamming her hands on the kitchen table. "How! You read my thoughts, too! It's all the same. You shouldn't have more rights over me! That's unfair!"
"I never said being with me would be fair, Bulma."
"Yeah, well—" And then a smile spread wide across her face.
"What?"
"Oh nothing." She glided across the floor and into his arms. "Come on. I've been keeping my hands off you all day," she said, pulling him to follow her. "But I don't think I can anymore."
***********************************************************
---Chapter 33!! Woo!! Hoo!! Yeah! Another one—BAM!—in the goal! :D and the crowd goes wild! Or so I hope :P I know that not a lot happened, but soooo much drama and such has happened to them in the past few chapters that I thought something more mild was due. Next time I promise to spice things up…Yes, you know what I mean…LEMON! Woo! :P Put the children to bed early, this author has some plans for her puppets :D
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)
Next time: ;)
Note: I don't think I'm going to have a beta-reader for this fic anymore…I wonder where she went…
P.S.: Guess who turns 18 tomorrow!!!…Give up?…It's me! YAAAAAAAAAY! ^_^
"Woman," he sighed. "You never cease to amaze me."
"Perfect," she laughed, the natural feeling of happiness flooding her veins. "It's good to know that this fire will never go out."
**********************************************
Only a week left on Fewskm, and Bulma and Vegeta would be heading home. It was a long talk with surprisingly only a few short, heated words, that decided the date of departure. Vegeta had suggested they leave the next morning and get back to Earth as soon as possible, while Bulma wished to stay another two weeks, at least, to bask in the irresponsibility she'd become accustomed to while being away; plus, she was far too attached to Furto and the others to simply up and leave. So, one week was decided on and they both seemed mildly satisfied with the decision.
Bulma informed Furto, Senju, Golana, and Jemalin of their departure date the next day, teary-eyed and nearly unable to control her sobbing. By the end of her small speech of gratitude, almost the entire household was gathered around them, all wanting to wish her well for the rest of her years. It was decided that a small banquet would be held the night before the two aliens were to leave Fewskm, and then they would simply go. It had been too much for Bulma when she left Uvagon behind; she didn't want a long, drawn out farewell only moments before take-off. It would be unbearable.
It wasn't until the two days had passed that Vegeta slipped back into his normal behavior; ignoring Bulma, trying to pick fights, and being an all-around pain in the ass. This she had expected, though she was sad to see the softer version of her lover fade out. It had been quite interesting to wake up in his arms, his face buried in the crook of her neck, simply breathing in her scent and enjoying the fact that she was his, and his alone.
Now when she awoke, she found the place beside her cold and his imprint hardly there. She sighed deeply and swung her legs out of bed, pulling on her robe as she stood. Without needing to be told, she knew exactly where he was. For the past few days he'd been ranting about having not gotten any training done while away from Earth.
She walked lazily into the kitchen, pressed the start button of the coffee maker, then headed outside to find her mate. As she descended the ramp, a great yawn escaped her, and she almost didn't see the flash that was Vegeta across the sky. Seconds later he landed in front of her, his face, and body, covered with a sheen of sweat, and panting slightly.
"How long have you been training?" she asked, feeling another yawn coming on. She tried to stifle it.
"Since I was old enough to walk," he snapped, trudging past her and up the ramp. She only rolled her eyes at his behavior and followed him into the bathroom, where she knew he was going. She knew his training routine well enough, and smiled as he didn't bat an eyelash when he realized she was right behind him. "Do you think this kind of behavior is proper for my mate? Follow me around like a puppy." He pealed off his blue spandex training suit and tossed it on the floor, glancing over at Bulma, telling her with his eyes to take her clothes off as well, and completely contradicting his words.
"I think I will do as I please," she said nonchalantly, shrugging out of her robe, then her skimpy nightdress. She instinctively spread her hands across her not-yet-swollen belly and sighed deeply. In nine months' time she'd be a mother. And Vegeta would be a father.
In noticing this, Vegeta walked over and wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his hands atop hers. She understood the simple gesture well enough and smiled inwardly. Through his actions, he was telling her not to worry about the baby and that everything, including them, would be fine.
"I love you more than life, Vegeta," she whispered, saying exactly what was on her mind. "I don't know how…but I do…" He sensed that it was one of those intimate moments that, if ruined, could put permanent dent in their new and fragile relationship. So, instead of hissing a bitter remark, or shoving her away, he gently kissed her ear, then reached over and started the shower.
************************************************************
"Tell me again why I have to come along?" Vegeta grunted, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
"Because," Bulma sighed, as if she were ready to give up on him already, "I enjoy your company. Besides, it won't take that long. We only have to deliver these vials—" She held up a small contraption containing a few dozen vials of Elpinosus. "—and then we're done. Ok? It's the least I could do for Furto and his people after all they did for me."
He only rolled his eyes and continued along next to her, his hands still stubbornly buried in his pockets, refusing to hold Bulma, even after she hooked her free arm around his waist.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, the sun baking into their skin, they arrived at their destination: The Infirmary, where all those who'd contracted Denj-sa, or other diseases, were located. It was a massive building of thick mud bricks and mortar, its windows simply carved into the sides and covered with thin pieces of dark fabric. Along the outside were wilting, untended flowers, and weedy bushes. It was obvious that the sick inside took all the time of those who would be in charge of the upkeep of the outside. And a grim sense of foreboding washed over Bulma as she saw those sad little brown flowers, nearly crisped like dead leaves; the welcoming committee to the Ward of the Dying, the name Furto had whispered under his breath when referring to the section of the hospital reserved exclusively for Denj-sa; the most fatal of all diseases on Fewskm.
The door to the building was crudely carved out of wood and held in place with spikes of iron and clumps of sloppily applied mortar. There were no guards. In fact, there seemed to be no one in sight whatsoever. The small pond, fed by a stream, to the right of the building, was vacant, even on such a hot day as today. Bulma wondered if those inside were in such low spirits that even the thought of fun and relaxation wounded their already beaten hopes.
"It's like they're already dead," Bulma whispered, clutching the vial-carrier tighter in her hand so not to lose it. She had more than enough for those inside that Furto knew had Denj-sa. It was a rare disease on Fewsk these days, but deadly nonetheless.
A blood-curdling cry ripped through the air, startling Bulma into almost dropping her precious load. She looked around frantically for the source of the horrifying sound. A female Fewsk, no older than ten, came barreling around the corner of The Infirmary, in nothing more than a rudimentary tunic and nothing on her feet. It wasn't until she ran past the two aliens, not even glancing at them, that Bulma noticed the small bluish dots that covered her skin. Moments later, an adult female Fewsk came running after the little girl, her skin bearing the same complexion.
Bulma waited until they were out of sight to speak.
"What do they have?"
"Katoskas," Vegeta murmured, as if it were a forbidden word.
"Are they going to—"
"It isn't fatal," he answered quickly. "But the infected do experience uncontrollable bouts of…insanity."
"Is there a cure?"
"No. But it only lasts a few months."
"I see," she sighed, a shiver passing through her. How bizarre the diseases of space were compared to those on Earth.
"Not at all. Fewsks would turn over in their graves if they heard about AIDS or the Ebola virus."
Bulma only gave him a questioning look. She hadn't any idea that he knew so much about the Earth.
"Woman," he laughed, finally pulling one hand from his pocket to wrap his arm around her shoulder. "One must always research a new planet for diseases before landing. It's only logical."
As they passed through the corridors of the hospital, several heads turned at their presence, but no attempt was made to greet them, or at least ask them what they, aliens, were doing in a Fewsk hospital. All faces they caught, even for an instant, were sullen and drawn, devoid of any hope for cures. It seemed they'd entered the section of the hospital where the word hope was taboo and all those bedridden souls had but one thought: I'm going to die.
Each new corridor was coupled with a sign, bearing the names and directions of certain areas of the hospital. Bulma quickly find out that words in red meant fatal, for every time they walked through a "red" corridor, death lingered over the bodies of the sick, like a hazy blanket, ever reminding them that they would never escape their prison, never again breathe fresh air, or simply laugh with loved ones.
"Vegeta," Bulma whispered. She couldn't take it anymore. She had to know…"Why is everyone so…sad?"
"Fewsks only seek medical assistance outside their homes when the diseases are uncontrollable or ultimately fatal."
"Then why wasn't I brought here?"
"I wouldn't have it," he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the universe.
"Vegeta, I can FEEL the death here. Everyone is…They're all…"
"I know, woman. That's why I protested you coming here. Now you will see first hand the true effects of Denj-sa."
"But that won't matter, right? I mean, I have Elpinosus. They can all be cured. That's why I came here."
"You don't understand, woman." He shook his head at the floor. "Some are too far along in the disease to be cured. Their bodies are barely hanging on. When they breathe it hurts. When they blink it hurts. There's nothing more that can help them. Not even Elpinosus."
"Oh…" was all she said, as they continued walking.
*******************************************************
"Elpinosus!" a Fewsk healer cried, reaching his hands out to grab the vials, though shrunk back as if touching them would some how contaminate the cure. "But how! The Geramones! How! Tell me!"
"Please, calm down," Bulma whispered, trying her best to be soothing. "I'll explain everything. But first I need to know how many patients you have that can be cured with this." She held up the vials, their glass glittering in the light. The Fewsk reached out once more to touch the beautiful cure, though again retracted his arm, clutching it to his chest as his body convulsed with shivers of pure joy and astonishment. It was feared that the Elpin were completely unattainable now and no one contracting Denj-sa would have a chance.
"Ten," he said, trying to steady his voice. "They live in the room at the end of the hall."
"And how many that cannot be saved?"
"Thirty or so," he sighed, forcing his shaky hands to his sides.
"I see." She lifted her chin and held back her tears. No. She was not going to cry. "Can you bring me to them, first?"
"But—"
"Please. I've had Denj-sa. I've been cured. I just…I need to see them. I can't explain it."
"I understand."
The Fewsk healer had tried to warn her as they approached the Ward of the Dying that she would wish she hadn't come. And he was absolutely right.
Skeletons of former Fewsks, barely breathing, lay in rows of beds, all their eyes shut and sunken in so deep that it looked as though their eyes were completely gone. Most were recognizable as Fewsks, though some, those who could die at any moment, resembled nothing more than heaps of gray matter tucked into course blankets.
"It—It—It's horrifying," Bulma stuttered, curling into Vegeta's embrace, though she could not—no matter how hard she tried—keep her eyes off the dying. "Can they even m-move?"
"Afraid not," the healer sighed, his face contorted into a mixture of repulsion and sadness. "Most cannot even open their eyes. And some, the few most unlucky, they are blind or deaf."
"How long have they been sick?"
"Years."
"But haven't they—I mean—Wouldn't they want to just…" But she couldn't finish what she was thinking.
"I know what you're trying to say, Miss. And yes, many have asked that we end…their lives. But we are healers and cannot do such things." He gulped loudly and turned away from the diseased. "Once every so often a group of warriors come in and inform us that they are here to answer the pleas of the dying. We shun them away, no matter how loud the cries become…We cannot simply…let them die…"
"Can I see the curable now? I'm afraid I'll pass out if I stay here a moment longer."
"Of course."
They reached the Denj-sa Ward moments later, a heavy cloud of despair hanging over Bulma's head. And to think, she would have died the easy way, having suffered only minimally, while those here had suffered for years and would continue suffering after she was well on her way to Earth. How unfair it was that they could not have the Elpinosus, have their second chance at life. But she knew, even if they were cured, that the lasting effects of the disease would cripple them. Their suffering could never truly end.
"Miss, Prince Vegeta, these are the infected," the healer said upon opening the door.
"Hello there!" a few of the Fewsks inside called, waving frantically, and…smiling? Bulma had to blink a few times to ensure that she was seeing correctly.
"Hi," she murmured, stepping slowly into the room. Why were they so happy? Didn't they know what would become of them in time? Hadn't they visited the disintegrating Fewsks?
"Oh! Look!" one of the female Fewsks said, her straw-like hair very tall and wrapped in bands of colored ribbon. "It's the Saiyan Prince! And an Earthling! My! What a day!"
"Excuse me," Bulma managed to get out. "But why are you all…I mean…How…" She bit her lip in frustration. There was no good why to ask.
"Why are we happy, you mean?"
She nodded.
"Making the most of our time left. We figured that having Denj-sa just gives us all an excuse to not work and have fun all day. We're the only ward that laughs. Hell, we're the only ward that has colored walls with pictures and poems painted on them."
"Oh…Well…I have some good news for you." She held out the vials of Elpinosus, her arm shaking slightly. She couldn't even begin to wonder why she was so nervous. And then, as the reality sunk in for those who were infected, she understood her fear. She had been so miserable and childish when she was infected; sullen, dreary, so much like all the faces she'd passed on her way in. And now, to see Fewsks with Denj-sa and a reason to be happy, she felt completely foolish and selfish. If only she'd had that mentality throughout her disease. Maybe things would have been different then. Maybe she and Vegeta wouldn't have fought so much. But then again, Vegeta fought with everyone.
"But how!" the same female Fewsk yelled, stumbling over to them. "The Geranomes—How!?" Now this is what Bulma had been expecting.
"We traveled to Geranoma and retrieved the Elpin," Bulma forced out, handing the vials to her. She took them hastily and ran to her friends on the other side of the room, all of who were trembling with joy and a new hope that they would finally be out of the hospital. No matter how optimistic they'd been before, they simply couldn't ignore the significance of the little vials of healing liquid. "You need to take three," she finally said. "One every six hours." She turned to the healer, whose eyes were watering with joy. "You'll monitor them?"
"Of course, Miss. We simply cannot thank you enough for this gift. You have saved ten lives. You cannot know how much this means to us."
She smiled genuinely at him, then drew her face in, setting her eyes and mood to seriousness. "Is there any way to preserve the Elpinosus for those who may contract Denj-sa later on?"
"Yes, yes. The future is looking better."
"Oh, and I should inform you that the Elpin will be moved off of Geranoma and to a planet where it can be accessible to all. Denj-sa is no longer a threat to your people."
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"Kami that felt good," Bulma sighed, breathing in the cooler evening air. The light of day was just beginning to fade into the horizon, leaving warmth in the sand, and a refreshing breeze as well. "I can't believe we're going home already. It seems like we've barely been here. I'm going to miss this boiling blue planet so much."
"You were just whining about how you want to go home. Make up your mind."
"Oh, it's made up," she laughed. "Believe me. I cannot wait to get home and see my parents and friends, but I'm still going to miss the Fewsks." She took a deep breath and curled into Vegeta's arms as they walked. All the pieces of her life were finally falling into place. She had a husband (sort of), a child on the way, and a great love that enveloped her and sent a cold chill of ecstasy down her spine. She had it all, and it was all because of Vegeta. Not Yamcha. Not the man she'd thought for so long would be with her for the rest of her life. He was gone, thank Kami, and she was truly happy with Vegeta, something she never thought could be possible, and those on Earth would have a tremendously hard time grasping. Bulma and Vegeta, the two most volatile beings to ever walk Planet Earth. It was a wonder they didn't literally tear each other's heads off during an argument.
"You know," Vegeta suddenly said, just as they were approaching their ship. They'd taken to sleeping on the ship and visiting with the Fewsks once they woke up. Today just happened to be slightly different with the trip to The Infirmary. "You still need to master your telepathy. And we better get it done here, because once we land on Earth, I'm locking myself away to train."
His words didn't surprise her in the least. In fact, she was glad that he was finally going to train. The thought of him getting hurt or—shudder—dying in battle was unthinkable. Now that she had him, she was not going to let some vile hunks of metal and wires steal him away for the sake of infantile revenge. Damn that Dr. Gero! If it wasn't for him Vegeta, and the others, wouldn't be put in unnecessary danger and they couldn't simply live their lives in peace. But that would never happen. Some being or other was always trying to kill Goku or Vegeta or blow up the Earth for some inane reason. Besides, if it wasn't for Dr. Gero and his androids, then Vegeta would never have launched into space to train, and she wouldn't have accidentally been stuck onboard, and they would have probably never fallen so deeply in love.
"Sounds like a plan, my friend," she said, climbing the ramp to the ship. "Tonight?"
"Yes, woman, tonight. Aren't you and your ridiculous Fewsk friends doing something tomorrow?"
"Oh yeah!" She smacked the butt of her hand into her forehead and laughed. "That's right. Furto and Senju are taking me to the ocean on the other side of the planet. Have you ever been there? They said it's really pretty."
"I've been there," he said in his usual monotone voice. "Golana dragged me there once."
"Golana, huh?" A pang of jealousy ran through her, but she banished it immediately. There was no reason for her to be jealous of another when she knew full well that Vegeta chose her, and no one else, to be his mate, and never would. It was wonderfully clear that she was the only being he'd ever even considered sharing his shut-in life with. She smiled at this little piece of knowledge, something she would carry with her until the end of her days. "I like her. I'm going to miss her, too. She helped me a lot with my…er…doubts…"
"Don't say that as if it never happened, woman. You had doubts with us, as I did. That's nothing to cower at." But inwardly he was slightly bruised by her words and the fact that she had doubted them, even with the all evidence that they were completely perfect for one another, and no one else. Though he hardly believed in soul mates.
"Neither do I," Bulma said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, then bolted into the ship before he could comprehend her words. Had she just—?
"Woman!"
"Yes, dear?" she giggled, popping open a can of root beer, which she chugged with astoundingly unladylike grace. "Something wrong?"
"How is it that you can read my thoughts? I haven't taught you the first thing about that kind of telepathy. Explain yourself."
"Wish I could," she said with a shrug. "But I really don't know how it happened." She tossed the can in the recycling disposal, then said, "I've been able to quote unquote hear your thoughts since we mated. I just never let on to it. I wanted you to treat me how you were planning on treating me. Besides, what's the big deal? Now you don't have to waste a whole bunch of time teaching me something that I'm sure would have taken me weeks to learn had it not come naturally. It's a good thing."
"You should have told me."
"Why? So you could shield your thoughts from me? I don't think so pal. If you can openly read my thoughts, I sure as hell want to be able to read yours."
"Ah," he laughed smugly, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the now closed door. "So you haven't figured out how to close off your mind then?"
"No, not yet. I figured you'd teach me that now."
"I don't think so, woman. You violated my trust. You're going to have to deal with me prying into your thoughts."
"Your trust!" she snapped, slamming her hands on the kitchen table. "How! You read my thoughts, too! It's all the same. You shouldn't have more rights over me! That's unfair!"
"I never said being with me would be fair, Bulma."
"Yeah, well—" And then a smile spread wide across her face.
"What?"
"Oh nothing." She glided across the floor and into his arms. "Come on. I've been keeping my hands off you all day," she said, pulling him to follow her. "But I don't think I can anymore."
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---Chapter 33!! Woo!! Hoo!! Yeah! Another one—BAM!—in the goal! :D and the crowd goes wild! Or so I hope :P I know that not a lot happened, but soooo much drama and such has happened to them in the past few chapters that I thought something more mild was due. Next time I promise to spice things up…Yes, you know what I mean…LEMON! Woo! :P Put the children to bed early, this author has some plans for her puppets :D
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)
Next time: ;)
Note: I don't think I'm going to have a beta-reader for this fic anymore…I wonder where she went…
P.S.: Guess who turns 18 tomorrow!!!…Give up?…It's me! YAAAAAAAAAY! ^_^