Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.

Author's Notes: I know I haven't updated in two weeks, but that's because I have this annoying life that won't let me write my all-important stories. I'm not being sarcastic. I'm really frustrated. Anyway. This is a change of pace from the happy things I've been writing recently. I hope you enjoy it anyway.



Chapter 29: Torturous

It was almost finished.

Jita had barely gotten any rest over the past two weeks. At the moment she was riding on little food and practically no sleep. That was alright. She did it to herself. She was used to going without. She merely took it in stride and concentrated on the building in front of her.

It was a rather impressive structure, built near the house Goku had built for her and Goten. While the house was rustic, a wooden structure that suited Goten's tastes better, the new building was a series of white domes - one large one with smaller ones attached by tube-like corridors. The main dome sported a symbol Goten and Jita had chosen for themselves. For every sensei needed a symbol.

Jita had gotten the idea not that long ago. As living expenses grew, she realized the money she had saved would not be enough to support a Saiyan family. The grocery bills were large, to say the least. Even if they hunted for their food, there were still other things in a diet besides meat. So they needed money. The career choices she looked into had not pleased her. Most were jobs dealing in different services and - well - she wasn't that great with dealing with people. Her failed attempt at being a waitress had told her enough. And she needed something for Goten to do. Something that was not demeaning to either of the Saiyan nobility. Something they were good at. The puzzle had baffled her. It wasn't like she'd ever had to worry about money. No need for money in the palace on Planet Vegeta, or in hell. And Frieza kept his soldiers dependent on him for everything. So she was once again trying to cope in an absolutely unfamiliar situation. She nearly gave up.

Life had been so much simpler in space, in that honeymoon that had lasted for far too short a time. She had shown Goten around the universe she had grown up in, going to places she remembered. Some were utterly destroyed. The Kold Empire HAD been in operation for many years after her death; it only made sense that the galaxy she had known so well had changed so much. But some places had remained untouched. There had been one planet that had been barely populated. She and Goten had spent most of their time there. It was there the voice had finally quieted to a whisper, and she could focus on the man to whom she had vowed her life, and the happiness he brought her.

But reality had broken into their dreams - supplies ran low, fuel was exhausted, she was constantly reminded that she had created some of the large expanse of space debris they had to pilot around . . . The two barely made it home under their own power, and were rewarded with a rough landing and a lecture on responsibility by Bulma.

After that, there was the chore of moving into the house, getting everything right. She had decided to divide the Saiyan relics, telling the other Saiyans to take what they wanted. The collection was rather large, and she was tired of the continual upkeep of every relic. That led into her giving a lengthy lecture on the significance of each item for every Saiyan other than Vegeta. It was almost depressing to see so many Saiyans ignorant of the sacred armor and their ancestors' bones.

Vegeta, of course, ended up with the oldest and most sacred of the relics - the armor of the first king. Gohan took a lot of the books, since most were actual Saiyan texts. He said he wanted to acquaint himself with the nonfighting aspects of Saiyan culture. Vegeta told that that would take him a good ten minutes, if he read slowly. Of course, this was exaggeration. It had actually taken Gohan two hour of constant reading. Goku took a picture of his old family that Jita was not even aware she had. The picture had been buried in a text that had obviously once belonged to Bardock, and showed Bardock, Raditz, and Leema, Goku's mother. So Goku took the book and the picture. He hadn't asked too much about his mother, or any of the others in his family, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't. Jita didn't blame him.

Trunks set up a room in Capsule Corp just for the relics that he, Vegeta, and Bra kept, so that slimmed Goten and Jita's collection to a manageable size, able to fit into the library. Once the house was in order, and the excitement calmed down, Goten and Jita just didn't know what to do. Goten continued training, joined often by Jita. There were household chores that the two divided up. Jita started exploring her library, which had been allotted its own room. They took walks in their new property. That was all alright, but the two became . . . well, bored. They had both grown accustomed to an active life full of responsibilities and they missed it. Jita remembered many fights that had raged between them over trivialities - Goten hadn't washed the dishes, she was playing her strange music too loud. Silly stuff, really. Reminded her of the whole deal with her roommate all over again. She wasn't about to let that happen. She loved Goten too much. Not only that, the voice was coming back. While she was reading. While she was cooking. And then, it came to her while she walking with Goten. She couldn't take it anymore, but no matter how much she and Goten thought and talked about it, they could never come up with a solution.

Until she met with the idiot. Videl's father. The savior of earth. Despite her disgust at his overbearing attitude, Jita held a sort of grudging respect for a man who could survive this long when the strongest warriors in the universe clearly couldn't stand him, or only tolerated him. But his unbelievable luck hadn't been her interest.

It was his dojo.

Imagine - a school for warriors. She supposed she had been to them, if you counted those horrible training places as dojos. But she'd never considered it as a possible source of income. It made sense, though. Both she and Goten were experts at fighting, and they could teach warriors the desperately-needed ability of manipulating ki. Only around twenty warriors on Earth had that ability, and they wouldn't live forever. Plus, none of them had any students. The strong warriors would teach their children, and that's about it. So she and Goten could teach what they knew about fighting, which was their most valuable asset anyway. So she'd made an agreement with Hercule. He would advertise for her, and she would take the students that he didn't accept - the "younger" and "weaker" ones that he had turned away. These, she knew, were the easiest to teach. They had few preconceived notions on how to fight, and they had the greatest potential for growing in strength. So, while Hercule thought he was getting the better end of the deal, she knew otherwise. And for once, she would be doing good.

Not that it would matter in the long run.

A shadow passed across Jita's eyes. 'No, I won't give in to hopelessness. I can't.' And again she heard the voice in her head. Laughing. Taunting. Threatening. Tempting.

"Jita."

Jita broke from her reverie to acknowledge the form that had just flown up. It was Vegeta. He did not need to be here right now. Whenever he was around, especially lately, the voice got so loud she almost forgot herself. It had been getting better, but now it was just as bad as when she first came to live on Earth. And all she had to do was -

The look in his eyes pulled her back. She'd probably been giving him a strange look. 'Control yourself.'

"What's wrong with you, child?"

Somehow the harsh tone and the use of the hated name for her pulled Jita completely out of her dark desire. "Nothing, old man," she said, smiling at the irked expression she got.

He eyed her suspiciously, but decided to accept her flippant evasion. The prince turned his attention to the building. "It's almost finished?"

The dojo. She'd sunk the rest of her money into it, and Bulma had made sure they'd gotten a loan and the permit to build it. The business permit had just about gone through, and before long they could accept students. It had taken six months work and planning, and now it was . . .

"Yes. Almost finished." After a few minutes silence, Jita was tired of the tension. Vegeta was putting something off. "Why exactly are you here?"

Vegeta crossed his arms. "No reason. Merely boredom."

Jita smirked, concentrating on the conversation. She couldn't lose focus. She was stronger than that. "Maybe you need something to fill your time, to help with the ennui. Maybe, I don't know, a teaching job?"

Vegeta glared. "I won't be teaching any of those weakling human brats for you. I'm not THAT bored. Besides -"

He continued talking, but Jita didn't hear him. Concentrating on the conversation wasn't working. She couldn't concentrate. She knew Vegeta was saying something, but she could only tell because his mouth was moving. Blood and the voice pounded in her ears, drowning out everything on Earth, drawing her nearer to Hell. The sky turned red, and then black. She felt like she was falling into the abyss - the abyss that had been her home for some many years. The voice was deafening. The screams were deafening. 'Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him kill him kill him kill kill kill -'

"Jita, wake up!"

Someone was shaking her, but she didn't want to get up. She didn't want to do anything. She couldn't face him again. She couldn't face the voice again. No more training. No more torture. No more tears. No more pain. Please please please please please please -

"Wake up, child!"

Jita forced herself slowly back into reality as the pain gradually died down. She slitted her eyes open, and caught sight of a man. She almost panicked, until she realized that it wasn't him. It wasn't the voice at all. It was Vegeta. She wasn't in Hell - she was on earth, at her home, in front of her dojo, with her brother.

"Wake -"

"I'm awake!"

Jita pulled herself up, shaking with unspeakable emotion - fear and rage. Too close. She had gotten too close. She knew it. And she'd blanked out. That was the most powerful attack the voice had used against her while she was conscious. Maybe it was because she hadn't been sleeping, so he couldn't attack her in her dreams. Or maybe it was because she'd been so happy recently, and he needed to give her a dramatic reminder of the control he had over her. Whatever it was, it made her sick. And afraid.

Vegeta was staring at her, wild-eyed, as she tried to regain her composure. "What the hell just happened?" he demanded.

What the 'hell.' Irony. She pulled herself together, schooling her face into her customary expression of cool indifference. "I'm fine. I'm just . . . tired.

*****

"HAI!"

Goten dodged, only to find himself yet again cornered by Vegeta. No matter how fast he moved, Vegeta was one step ahead of him, dogging his every move, finding weaknesses in Goten's defense, and exploiting them. This was nothing like fighting his dad or Gohan.

Vegeta got in two good hits to Goten's stomach, causing the young man to gasp in shock. Goten panicked and formed a close-range ki blast, and actually caught Vegeta off guard, but Goten found himself contending with two ki blasts a second later. Losing track of the close assault, Goten fell from the sky and attempted to regain the advantage.

But his respite was short-lived. Vegeta was behind him in an instant, kicking him forward. Goten rounded on him, feinted a charging punch, only to disappear and reappear to Vegeta's side. Goten was able to get in two punches to Vegeta's face before finding himself being double-fisted to the ground.

All during the fight Goten had seemed surprised. No wonder. Vegeta had been surprised at his own decision. He rarely ever sparred with the boy. Their relationship had never been like that. Still wasn't. Oh, sure, they were related now. The boy was even nobility. And, for a while, Vegeta had been the only father-figure Goten had known.

This actually pained Vegeta in a few ways. One, he knew what it was like to not have a father. While others praised Kakarrot for his heroic sacrifice, Vegeta had known how the hero was dooming his son, however inadvertently. Heroic sacrifice. Futile is more like it. It's not like Vegeta had ever made a futile heroic sacrifice . . .

Another thing that pained the prince was his own responsibility. Children copied their elders. It was a fact of nature. He'd grown to realize that he remembered less of his father and more of Frieza actually raising him, and he knew that he had imitated Frieza.

It hadn't taken long of watching Trunks grow up to realize he might not grow into the polite young man from the future timeline. His Trunks practically worshipped the ground he walked on, which was alright, since he was a prince. But it also meant he'd been for the first time responsible for another person, not just in body but in mind and soul. Goten practically worshipped Trunks and the two boys spent all their time together. All the other men in Goten's life were doing their own things. Chichi's father was too old, Kakarrot had been dead, Gohan was little more than a boy himself, Krillen was busy building his own family, and the others were too involved in their own lives. Plus it caused them too much pain to see this Kakarrot look-alike running around. So Vegeta had become his role model by default, simply because he was around. And it meant he was responsible.

While young, the boys had had an absolute fascination with fighting, almost an obsession. They had no qualms about rule-breaking, and didn't truly respect and obey anyone who couldn't beat them up. Vegeta smirked. He remembered that Chichi had gotten rather angry at some of the words Goten had picked up from him. He hadn't meant to corrupt the child - he just didn't see the big deal in using "bad words", as the children had called it. But the constant worries about how the boys were turning out from both Bulma and Chichi began to get to him. What if he was breeding little monsters? More of himself - carrying on Frieza's legacy of heartless pain and destruction by making the boys into killers - just by living around them. It seemed that that was happening from watching them fight Buu. The fact that they were trying to save Earth never really sunk in. They were more worried about how "cool" the fight was. The got too cocky and ended up getting beaten. Too much like himself.

Vegeta's fears were, of course, unrealized. Both men had grown up fine, for the most part. Trunks had acted on a tendency toward business and administration, but that was just the royalty in him - the part that was meant to be ruling over an empire. And Goten . . . well . . .

He was the most Saiyan of the lot. Moody - almost abrasive at times. With a need for battle that matched - almost rivaled the full Saiyans. And a thirst to prove himself when everyone overshadowed him. Perhaps Vegeta had had a bigger influence on him than any other had. Who else could have made him that Saiyan? It certainly couldn't be his father. Goten had never emulated his father.

"Vegeta, what's this all about?"

The fight was over, and Goten was on the ground again wiping blood from his mouth. Vegeta had gotten the better of the younger man. Yes, the boy could turn level three, but he wasn't as experienced in fighting different people, having only sparred with Goku, Gohan, Trunks, and Jita, the only ones who were willing and were on roughly the same level. He'd lost out on adaptability, whereas people like Goku, Vegeta, Jita, and even Gohan, had had a wide range of opponents in the past. "What do you mean?" Vegeta responded.

"Vegeta, you've never sparred one-on-one with me, not even when I'd worm my way into training with you and Trunks." This elicited a smile, but Goten then turned serious. "Is this about Jita?"

'Perceptive brat, too,' Vegeta mused. "Yes, this is about Jita. You know about her, don't you?"

Goten paused for a minute, pain flashing in his eyes, just enough to tell Vegeta that yes, indeed, Goten knew all about her.

Vegeta sighed. He hated meddling in emotional affairs. It ruined his image. But this was his sister. "She needs help. Help that I'm not able to give her. Help that I could never give to her." Vegeta voice was soft with regret. He stared at the puzzled Goten. "She's not stable."

Goten laughed bitterly. "Are any of us?" At Vegeta's harsh look, he amended his flippancy. "Alright. OK. I'm trying to help her." He looked down, his voice softening. "Do you know that she hears the voice, in her head? For a while - one our honeymoon - it was better. But it's gotten worse. Sometimes I can hear her talking to him, and it freaks me out. I try to drown out the voice, to keep her busy, but . . ."

The pain was palpable, and Vegeta actually felt pity for the boy. A boy so much like himself, yet with his father's caring nature. A torturous combination. And it could destroy him.

*****

"Hey. Wake up."

Jita felt a jostling at her shoulder, rousing her from a troubled sleep. She looked up from where she'd been lying on the table, her arm creased with a notebook spiral pattern. The table was littered with official- looking papers and notes written with her hurried scrawl and Goten's neat pen. The paperwork was almost finished, and in her hurry to get everything done, she'd stayed up late again and fallen asleep.

Goten hugged her from behind and started massaging her shoulders. Even when she'd been sleeping, she was tense. Of course, that could be from using the table as a pillow. "You need to sleep - and not at the table," he softly reprimanded her.

Jita looked up at him. "Last I checked, I was your wife, not your child," she retorted.

Goten smiled wryly. "Well, since we decided not to worry about having children for a while now, I feel perfectly justified in babying you a little."

"Watch what you say, Goten. Those words may be your last."

Goten chuckled at the threat that had been cut into by a yawn. "It would sound more threatening if you actually got some sleep and looked like you could fight."

Jita growled in frustration. "Stop bugging me. I'm going to bed. I've just got to take care of these things. I want to get them sent off tomorrow."

Goten checked the wall clock. "Actually, that would be today, since it's way past midnight." When she made no move toward the bedroom, Goten sat in the chair across from her. He gulped hard. There was something he wanted to say, but it couldn't seem to get past his throat, which was closing up in anticipation. "Jita, I . . ."

Jita looked wearily over to her husband. "What is it, Goten?"

Goten didn't seem to know where to look. He kept looking from the table to the wall clock to her eyes, and then would start the cycle all over again. "I . . . I wanted to talk to you about the voice."

Jita gasped. The voice. This was the first time Goten had ever mentioned it aloud. She had never even told him about the voice. He must have figured it out on his own. A flash of emotion passed over her eyes, but she managed to keep her composure for the moment. "Why do you want to talk about it? It never bothers you."

"Yes it does," Goten said, his eyes wide. "It concerns you, so it concerns me. I just don't want you to be in pain. I'm worried about you. So is Vegeta. I mean, it's not like you're in Hell right now. He shouldn't have that much of a hold on you."

"Goten, like it or not, he does have a hold over me." Jita voice was thick with unshed tears. Tears she refused to shed. The voice was laughing softly in her ears. "He has my soul. It doesn't belong to me anymore. Once someone has your soul, that person has you. And I sold it to him. I deserve this."

Goten's eyes were brimming with tears as he mutely shook his head, denying her self-judgment. Jita took a shuddering sigh. She didn't want to face this, but there were things that Goten needed to understand. "When you die," she continued, "you will go to heaven, or maybe even to train in the otherworld with the great warriors of the past. When I die, I will go to Hell. I had a choice before, and I made the wrong decision. It was stupid, but it is something I can't take back. Our marriage vows were for as long as we are existing. Know this - as soon as I die, I will no longer exist. You can't wish me back with the dragonballs. You can't come after me. You can't see me in the afterlife. I will be gone. Don't hold on to me after I'm gone. I will only bring pain to you."

Tears were flowing readily down her cheeks now, and Goten was holding back sobs. No. He couldn't let her go. It just wasn't right. He loved her too much. "Maybe we could fix it somehow. Talk to the Supreme Kai or -"

"Goten, don't you get it? We can't fix this. I brought it on myself. I deserve it. I'm not a good person, like you are. I may not be evil, but I'm not good. I - I already tried," she ended with a whisper.

Goten blinked through his tears in confusion. "You already tried what? What did you try, Jita?"

Jita took a deep breath. "I gathered the dragonballs. I wished for my soul, or control over my soul, or to break the link - I tried a lot of wordings. All were beyond the dragon's power. He said he had no power over the fate of souls and where they go in the afterlife. He'd have to be more powerful than the Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell, and he's not. So you see? I tried. Goten, do you not realize what that means? That means that he may not be able to resurrect me from the dead if I'm killed by unnatural means. And even if he is - well - I still don't know how I'd come back. I don't know what the voice would do to me. I don't know -"

"Jita," Goten interrupted sharply. "Stop talking like that. You're not going to die for a very long time, and when you do I won't stop loving you. I won't give up on you. Nothing you say will make me change my mind."

He had moved around the table and was hugging her tightly as he said this. Their tears mingled, and they kissed. They kissed to hold on to each other - to ward off all the bad things and harsh realities. To ward off the distant, uncertain future. The kiss was almost painful, because it had been birthed from pain. Goten picked Jita up in a smooth move, never breaking the kiss, and carried her to their bedroom. He laid her on the bed, finally breaking the kiss. He laid in the bed himself and held her, partly to comfort her and partly to comfort himself. As he felt weariness overtake his body and his mind, he whispered in her ear, "I won't let you go."

Jita turned her head and looked in Goten's eyes, a bittersweet love shining in them. "No matter what happens, Goten, know that you've made my life a heaven. That's all that matters."

The voice was silenced for once, leaving Jita free to drift to sleep. As Goten was falling into slumber, one thought kept repeating in his brain like a mantra. 'I won't let you go.'







Author's Notes: Thanks to all my reviewers: Dark Wolf (Mr. Satan in this chapter too. Do not take offense at my calling him an idiot. I just think that Jita would call him an idiot. Don't be mad at me! *hides behind desk* Alright, I'm better now. Don't worry, you'll know when I leave this story. I will write something commonly known as an epilogue. Can't wait for your next chap on "A Saiyan's Worth"), aqua-illusion (As you'll notice, I commonly focus on the lost Saiyan culture. Mostly because it's a field with so many opportunities. DBZ shows nothing of Saiyan culture, except a vague sense of hierarchy and a different moral system from that of Earth. Most of the Saiyan traditions commonly written in fanfiction is - well - mating traditions. And I'm not talking about weddings, either. You know what I'm talking about. Anyway. Glad you liked my wedding. I really worked long and hard on that. Any western wedding would have had Judeo- Christian beliefs, and any eastern wedding would have been too eastern. I've been trying to make the culture of the DBZ environment a bit generic, since they're not even in Japan, but in Chikyuu. It's difficult to write with any accuracy. I usually just try to relate the environment with myself and the readers. Oh well. I've rambled on enough.), Howler (It's my boyfriend! I'm so glad you reviewed me. Everyone, he helped me write chap 27. You know, the finals special with all the humor. Anyway. Love you!), and Omega (I wasn't worried about you not reviewing. You've been faithful to this story ever since the beginning. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. And - well - the enemy kind of appeared. My climax may not be what you think. And I may take a few more chapters to get to it. But don't worry. I'm getting there. In fact, I'm almost there. The suspense is killing me. Or it may just be the lack of sleep. Whatever.)

Next chapter is for the most part written. I'll try to get it out as soon as possible.