An: what an absence! Four months, innit?

Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for all your wonderful reviews. I feel like shit replying so late to all of you, but it's the best I can do.

Since there has been such a gap since this chapter and the last: the doctors suspect that poor broken Vegeta has amnesia since his frontal lobe has been damaged. Now, we go forth and see what happens.

Please keep in touch everyone! Its always good to hear from you! If you want to get hold of me, my email is: president underscore Zogeta (all small letters) at yahoo dot com

I would put it in properly, but you know how is.

I have to use internet cafes and most of them don't allow USB drives anymore because of evil people that like to put up viruses. But, now I'm here and ready for action!

By the way, when I was last updating, I was writing exams…well, those of you that know me know that I usually do badly in geography…but I got 75! Cheers for Zogeta! Not to mention a pretty damn decent average of 73 although I suspect my horrible handwriting stripped me of a bigger average. But, I couldn't have done it without you guys. All your good wishes during the exams kept me going and made me strong. I got a university bursary because of my marks! Not to mention my previously won scholarship as well. For English, that is (go figure.)

Time for author referral. You all know Gutterball, right? She happens to be my genius editor, best American friend, and an awesome writer…if you like well-written, intelligent, heart-stoppingly perfect yaoi of the Kakarot/ Vegeta persuasion, visit her page at world wide web dot saiyanhideaway dot us. My favourite stories are "Traditions" and "Don't go Changin'"

If you are under 18, don't go onto the site because your fragile little mind will get warped.

Or maybe I shouldn't refer her…then you'll realise how shitty my writing is! But hell, talent deserves to be recognised.

Review awards for everyone this time round! You all rock!

Ta,

Zogeta

ONWARDS!

Chapter eighteen: Where, who, why and what?

A week later, Bulma, Goku, Trunks and Piccolo were at the hospital, as the doctor "reanimated" Vegeta, bringing him out of his induced coma. They watched as Vegeta stirred, his eyes opening slowly. He looked around the room, and at the faces surrounding him.

"Hey, welcome back," said Bulma.

Vegeta blinked.

"Er, thanks. Do I know you?"

They were hoping that the doctors had been wrong about the amnesia thing. Obviously, they weren't.

"You do. Do you remember your name?"

Vegeta frowned for a moment, then shook his head, looking confused.

"I can't. What happened to me?"

Goku felt his heart constrict. Bulma smiled at Vegeta, to calm him.

"You were in a car accident, and it was pretty bad. Fortunately, you're off life support now, but you have amnesia."

Vegeta looked as though he wanted to cry, but he didn't. Goku understood how the poor guy felt. Waking up to be told you were in an accident, but you can't remember anything and your body is trashed too, and here are some strange people, including a green seven footer, who all claim to know you. It must be incredibly disconcerting.

"Then, who are you guys?"

"I'm Bulma, your ex-wife. This is Trunks, your son, and Piccolo, your good friend, and this is Go…I mean, Kakarot, your best friend and housemate."

Bulma had remembered just in time that it could help jog Vegeta's memory if they all called Goku 'Kakarot' instead.

Vegeta nodded.

"So, what's my name?"

"It's Vegeta, Prince of Saiyans."

My head is reeling. Who are these people? I have a son? Since when? And who is this 'Vegeta', Prince of Saiyans? I wish I could remember something, but my head is a blank. Nothing is fitting into place! I can't remember a single thing! I don't have a clue where I am, who I am, where I came from, or why I'm so badly injured! Surely I would remember being in an accident? These people don't look normal. That green one, he can't be from this place. And that one with the purple hair…could he possibly be my son? I can't even remember what I look like. I can't even draw any comparison between us that might prove that he's my son. The woman seems nice though. Why did I break up with her, if she's my ex-wife? What about the one with the spikes? He looks worried. Why? How could I be a Prince? What's a Saiyan? This doesn't make any sense!

Vegeta looked at his right arm, at the drips that pumped nutrients and medicine into his body, then back at the group gathered around his bed.

"I can't remember anything. Sorry."

Trunks pulled up a chair next to the bed, and sat on it.

"Don't be sorry. It isn't your fault that you had an accident."

Trunks shot a glare over his shoulder at Goku. He'd heard about the fight, and had been angry with Goku ever since. Goku cringed, and tried to camouflage himself into the drab grey wallpaper of the hospital room.

The memory-barren Vegeta looked at the purple haired youngster next to him, and smiled a little. Trunks smiled back.

"Don't worry, we'll help you get your memory back. It'll take time, but I'm sure you'd prefer to know who you are. And don't worry, you're a really great guy, and I'm not just saying that because you're my father."

Vegeta sat up a little, resting against a mound of pillows. The blankets pooled around his waist, and he looked down at his chest, which had bandages wrapped around it. He stared, fascinated by his variety of injuries. They seemed to be endless.

"Those are from your accident. You broke a couple of ribs."

Vegeta gently ran his fingers along his chest, feeling out broken bones.

"I wonder what my face looks like," he mused.

Piccolo materialised a mirror for him, much to Vegeta's amazement. Vegeta took it from Piccolo, and held it in front of his face, not quite prepared for what he saw. The others all felt edgy. They were hoping that he would have healed a bit more in the last week. All that had happened as far as his face was concerned was that the bruising had gone down. That was about it.

Vegeta looked sad, as he traced his finger along the cut that left a rift down the right side of his face. His left eye looked like someone had punched him. The others all looked at their feet. No one deserved to wake up like this, to these injuries and no memory.

"I wish I could remember something," he said quietly, as he put the mirror down on the steel cabinet that served as a night stand. Goku felt the tears at the back of his throat, that hot itchy ball that sticks in the throat and makes it hard to look anyone in the eye.

Goku swung the backpack off his back, and opened it. He took out a photo album, and put his bag on the floor. The others left the room, giving Goku the space he needed to start prodding Vegeta's memories. Goku gave Vegeta a nervous smile, and sat in the armchair that Trunks had vacated. Vegeta watched him, while trying to reach an itch that had developed inside the cast on his left arm. Goku noticed, and took a knitting needle out of his bag, and passed it to Vegeta.

"The doctor said you might need one of these."

Vegeta looked incredibly grateful, and gave a huge smile, as he took the needle, and poked it down his cast, reaching his itch. Goku smiled.

"You've got dimples," said Goku.

Something flashed across Vegeta's mind, but it was gone before he could grasp it.

"Have you said that to me before?"

Goku nodded.

"A long time ago, when you first moved into my house, well, our house, and we had a really nice dinner together, which you made. You smiled, and it was so beautiful, and I said, "Geta, you've got dimples!" and you smiled again."

Goku looked at Vegeta, who frowned as he tried to remember. It was so frustrating, almost like trying to hold water in a sieve.

"Don't worry, Vegeta. We'll help you fix it. Don't get frustrated, it'll come. I brought some photos, if they'll help you remember. Wanna see?"

Vegeta nodded, and took the huge red photo album from Goku. Goku stood next to him on his right hand side, as Vegeta leafed through the pictures. Goku would explain each photo as best he could, trying to remember every detail, like where and when, why and who was in it.

Vegeta stared at one of himself with a bandage over his one eye.

"That was that one day when we decided to paint your bedroom, and you got paint in your eye while you were painting your ceiling blue. You wore a sort of patch on your eye all day, and I thought it was pretty funny. But you got your revenge, and painted my hair with ultra durable light blue paint and I had to sit for six hours while you combed it out of my hair, laughing your head off the whole time, while I sat on my butt on a wooden floor and sulked."

Vegeta laughed to himself.

"That must have been funny. I seem to be quite a vindictive person."

"Nah. Just vengeful, and a seriously smart guy that thinks of the best pranks. Like that one time you lined all my clothes with itching powder and I was reduced to wearing your stretchable combat suit until all my stuff was washed."

Vegeta sighed, as he turned another page.

"I must have had a really fun life. I wish I could remember some of it. I'm not even getting a glimmer of it, except for when you said that I have dimples. That brought back something, even if it was just for a split second."

Goku got up, and put a hand on Vegeta's shoulder.

"You keep looking, I'll be back just now. You hungry?"

Vegeta nodded, not lifting his eyes from the painted squares of a previous life pasted into an album.

"Any luck?" Bulma asks me.

"Nothing. I've related about twenty stories to him, but he can't remember anything. The closest I got was a verbal recall. Something I said brought back the smallest glance of a memory."

Piccolo clears his throat.

"If that's so, then visual memory isn't going to work. Let him finish looking through the album, then I want you to try something. What's Vegeta's favourite drink?"

"Fanta Orange," I say without hesitation.

"And his favourite food?"

"He's got a few, but he has a soft spot for fat sloppy chips with lots of vinegar and salt."

"Right. You're going to get him that stuff, and see if that helps. If it does, then we know he responds to verbal and sensory recall. That'll give us a bit of a clue as to what else we can do. I'll go with you, Goku. Bulma, Trunks, why don't you go talk to him, and try see if you can't nudge his memory a bit, while we go?"

Bulma and Trunks nodded, and they went into Vegeta's room to talk to him.

"Goku, lets go."

As we waited for the chips, Piccolo reminded me of something.

"You know, I still think that if you kissed him, it'll jerk his memory right into place."

"Piccolo, how am I gonna explain to him that I need to kiss him? He can't even remember my name, never mind ever loving me! I can't just walk into his room and snog him! He'll think I'm

insane!"

"If he doesn't already think that."

"Hey!"

Piccolo smirked as I paid for the hot chips and unwrapped the white paper around it to pour mustard and vinegar all over it, just the way Geta likes it. Tons of salt too. I get him two litres of Fanta and some white chocolate for dessert.

"Look, Goku, it's probably one of the most vivid memories he has locked away. The amnesia is like a blanket; it just covers things. If you pull away that blanket, we can start repairing the damage. I know that it'll be weird, but you've got two options. A, you just kiss him without telling him, or B, you explain it to him."

"Which one do you think I should do?" I ask, as I wrap up the chips carefully, looking at Piccolo out of the corner of my eye.

"I would go with A. I can't see you explaining very clearly. I have trouble following your logic at the best of times, so how is an amnesiac like Vegeta going to understand?"

"As painfully honest as that is, I guess you're right, as always."

"Of course I am. Now lets hurry up and get back to him, before his chips get cold."

Goku walked into Vegeta's room, to find him sharing a joke with Bulma and Trunks.

"And by the end of the party, you were throwing up over the edge of the ship!" laughed Bulma, Vegeta grinning while Trunks chuckled.

"I guess I can't handle my alcohol, huh? It seems I'm learning a lot about myself today."

Vegeta sniffed the air, and grinned.

That grin…God, I miss it. Lets hope my plan works.

'Hey, Vegeta, I brought you some lunch. Bulma, Trunks, Piccolo wants to speak to you guys."

This was a ruse to get them out the room, and when they had gone, Goku closed the door behind them. He put the packet of hot chips on Vegeta's lap, and his drinks on the cabinet.

"Well, dig in."

Vegeta unwrapped the packet, and smiled.

"I'm starving. This looks great, thanks."

"No sweat."

Vegeta picked up a chip, and popped it into his mouth. His face lit up.

"I seem to remember really liking this stuff. Did I?"

"You went through a stage when it was all you wanted to eat. I hope I put enough mustard on."

"For some reason, I remember eating it with –"

"-extra hot mustard? Yeah, you prefer the hot stuff, but they didn't have."

Vegeta chowed down the entire packet in a few minutes, and looked most pleased when he was finished.

"Now I'm thirsty. That orange stuff looks good."

He reached for one of the bottles, and read the label.

"Fanta Orange? I wonder what it tastes like."

Goku watched him, feeling both happy and sad at the time. Vegeta was having fun learning all these new things about himself, but he didn't want to have to bring back all the bad memories that permeated his entire life. Maybe it would be better just to leave him be.

But then Goku shook his head. No. Vegeta should remember how much good he had done, and that he had family and friends that care about him so much. Even if it meant that Goku would lose him forever, it needed to be done. Vegeta would still be angry about Goku's cowardice, but he deserved to have his family back. He watched Vegeta chug down half a bottle in one go, then wipe the back of his hand across his face, pulling a contented smile across.

"That was great."

Goku smiled, and sat next to Vegeta on his bed. Vegeta absent-mindedly scratched his head, as he looked at Goku. Goku was pulling together his courage to kiss Vegeta.

"You know…for some reason I seem to have a part of me that remembers you. Its vague, but its there. Like we have a sort of bond."

Vegeta wrinkled his forehead, and bit his lower lip.

"I just wish I could remember why."

Goku came even closer, and put a hand on Vegeta's left cheek. Vegeta looked surprised, confused and scared all at the same time.

"Let me remind you why, Vegeta."

Goku closed his eyes and gently kissed Vegeta. Vegeta's eyes drifted shut as he responded. Hell, it felt good. Then, as their tongues touched, a change happened.

Vegeta's entire body stiffened, and his eyes shot open, as he jerked away from Goku. His brain felt like it was being flooded with rainbow paint, splashing against the walls of his mind and running though every fold and nerve. Every single image started flickering, recollections started playing like movies on fast forward, sounds and noises whirled around his head like a dust storm, having no discernible shape as they swept around his brain. Goku leaned back, as Vegeta shook, hands clutching his hair as he bent over, gritting his teeth. Goku worried if he should get a doctor, but then realised that his plan must have worked. Vegeta was getting his memory back, as unpleasant as it may be.

Everything was pouring in – Frieza, the death of his father, the abuse…

Killing

Dying

Destroying

Creating

Loving

Hating

Fighting

Rivalry

Friendship

Enemies

Allies

Weakness

Strength

Saiyans

Humans

Earth

Kakarot…

Vegeta felt like his head was going to explode if all these memories didn't stop rushing and colliding with each other. It started slowing down though, and the last thing to fall into place was his accident, and it fell into place with an audible thud. Goku stared at him and blinked, as Vegeta rubbed his eyes and sat up straight.

"Vegeta?"

WHAM! A heavy plaster cast slammed into the side of Goku's head, making him see white spots and stars.

"KAKAROT, YOU WORTHLESS FUCKING THIRD CLASS BASTARD! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO ME, YOU COWARDLY PIECE OF SHIT?"

"Vegeta, just let me explain!"

"EXPLAIN? I'D FUCKING KILL YOU IF I COULD!"

Outside, Piccolo, Trunks and Bulma smiled.

"That's our Vegeta, alright," smirked Piccolo.

Trunks' smile turned into a smirk. "Poor Goku. But he deserves it, after what he did to dad."

Goku backed away from the bed, right up against the opposite wall. Vegeta was shaking as he glared at Goku.

"You…you…" Vegeta shook with a mixture of disgust and anger. All the pain, all the hurt and all the anger felt just as fresh and raw as it did before his accident. If not worse, thanks to his added injuries.

"Get out of my sight," he growled.

"Vegeta, you have to hear me out…"

"No I don't."

"Vegeta, I just wanna say sorry!"

"I don't want to hear your pathetic apologies! I can't and won't fucking forgive you!"

"Vegeta…don't do this to me!"

Vegeta backed up against his pillows, his fingers twisting into the sheets, knuckles whitened. Goku felt the tears coming, but he swallowed them back.

I won't cry in front of you…

"What do you mean I mustn't do anything to you? You did the unforgivable. You allowed me to think I had a chance with you, when I didn't. You allowed me to think you loved me back, but you didn't. And now you have the balls to walk in here and expect that little Geta is just going to forgive you? I've never forgiven anybody for anything, and I'm not going to break that rule now. Get out of my sight. For that matter, get out of my life! I never want to see you again!"

Goku choked back a sob.

"Fine, Vegeta. If that's what you want. I'm sorry. That's all I wanted to say. I'm sorry for being too scared to love you back. I want another chance. I'm still here, if you want to try."

Vegeta looked down at his lap, his right hand over his face.

"Just…go. Get out."

Goku put two fingers to his forehead, and disappeared, but not before a tear could drop onto the dreary green linoleum.