A/N - this chapter may suffer from some grammatical and/or spelling errors. I've checked it, but my eyes seem to trail over them.

Chapter Six – Day Two

Toughened Up

Slumber didn't treat Vegeta kindly, as when he awoke, he was feeling rougher than before he reluctantly let his eyelids fall shut. It was dark. Dawn or dusk? He didn't know. The planet was nothing like he assumed. Still, only one of eye was fully functional; the other, he was unable to move a milometer, glued shut with mucus. The itchy crust was more than annoying, flaking onto his cheek. It wasn't meant to be this way—a Saiyan was meant to come back twice as strong. He felt a twitch on his foot, narrowed his eyes threateningly at the disgusting creature that was chewing on his boot. It was some sort of grotesque beetle, with onyx eyes, its body about the span of a human hand. He booted it, sending it crashing somewhere beyond his line of vision. Good riddance. He'd been asleep for a few hours and already something was trying to make a meal of him. But, as he stretched his shoulders and a searing bolt of pain staggered into his rib cage, he knew he'd already been made a meal of … by Burter. It must have slipped his mind. There was nothing worse than momentarily forgetting a defeat. The Earthling woman may have inadvertently killed off Burter, but the fact still remained, deep set in Vegeta's mind—Burter could've have killed him if he'd had a moment longer. And it was a thought Vegeta wished he could wipe out, discard, along with Pui Pui and that creature he found eating his boot. Nothing was ever that easy, nor was it ever going to be in the future, but awaking to find that his strength had not only failed to increase, but had in fact decreased, was unpleasant.

The anklet.

He slowly roused himself, using the trunk of the tree for balance, and stood, allowing the pain to truly surface, so he could get an idea what he was dealing with. His entire body roared out in protest from the sudden movement, but he kept that to himself, remembering that any weakness was being accounted for by Frieza. As he dragged his feet through the thick grass, moving through the darkness, he remembered the Earthling—the female. The perfected mental images of her crashed into his mind—the image of purity—and it did something to him. He hissed between his teeth, the majority of it being from the pain.

The slow current of the river, flushing further downstream, sounded pleasant to him as he made his way down to wash the blood from his skin. His clothes could wait. He was sure to reach another opportunity where water was available. Right now was not the time. Plus, his Saiyan armour was quite restricting and difficult to get off, requiring effort and energy he couldn't spend. Just as he stumbled down to the embankment, he peered across the river to see the woman, sitting down in the wet soil, fiddling with the anklet. She was fully clothed this time, though.

Vegeta frowned.

From here he could see that her clothing was still faintly stained with blood, blood that had turned into weak pink patches, from her collar to her abdomen. Like he noticed before, she had made a messy job out of killing that other human. He could have handled it more efficiently, that was, if he wasn't already being eaten alive by Burter. Surprisingly, she didn't grace him with her short-spanned attention, rather kept it solely focused on the ankle device, twisting it, causing it to bleed. She still seemed … distant to what she was previously. He didn't care, anyway. He needed to get relatively clean and stable if they were to continue soon.

He kicked his boots off and discarded them behind him, revealing an anklet identical to hers. Each team had identical anklets, he'd noticed, only vaguely, but still apparent. He waded into the shallow water, allowing the current to wander around him, and then scooped handfuls and threw them in his face. He did this again and again, until his wounded eye began to peel open without him having to touch it. Eventually it worked, but his eye refused to open fully. No matter, he could see now. He scraped his wet hands through his hair, catching anything that didn't belong, like skin or teeth. He once had to unstick an eyeball from his thick main, and he'd be dammed if he had to do that ever again. Once he was done, he stepped out onto the other side of the river, where the woman had ensconced herself, slightly discombobulated by the array of items around her.

What in the world … ?

He wasn't even going to ask, because frankly, it didn't matter to him. What did matter was the severity of his stomach growling. He hadn't eaten in over a day. No wonder he wasn't at his best. That would've been why Burter outmatched him. Of course.

What botched Vegeta's composure more was the sight of the dragon balls lined up behind her. They had four. Seeing them all lined up made them seem like trophies, which was what they were, he supposed. Trophies, rather keys, to unlock his freedom … or immortality.

The woman sat back, grabbed a small capsule, opened it and started to eat whatever the hell it was. It looked like some sort of shrivelled Namekian finger. Disgusting. He grimaced, and she finally granted him her attention, eyeing him curiously without saying a word. He wanted to berate her, but he couldn't will himself to waste his time. What was the point anymore? Besides, she'd clearly had more than enough of what her puny human body could endure. Vegeta tilted his head back, watching the breeze ruffle the leaves, which allowed the moonlight to peek through the gaps occasionally. How long had he really been asleep for? He couldn't tell. Not on this planet, anyway. He jumped when something landed on his foot. He glanced down painfully slow, to see an animal carcass sprawled across his boot, its lifeless face dark, its mouth open like it was surprised by its imminent death. It was one of those beasts he saw swinging through the trees earlier. But how did … ?

The woman was staring at him, cold blue reading into onyx. It was then when he scanned the items on the floor, until he saw a sharp implement wrapped in blood. Without thinking further, his mind being dominated by the hunger in his stomach, he squatted to pick the creature up, scrutinising it for its edibility. So far the creatures had proved no problem for his stomach, and were no less intrusive than the food he'd been supplied with on Frieza's ship. Also, he didn't have enough energy to go and hunt anything down for himself, not that it would have been too difficult. This creature would suffice for now.

"The next dragon ball is close," she said, pinching the skin around the device, blood oozing from the bolts that had her ankle captured.

Vegeta scowled. What was she really trying to achieve, other than to bleed to death? He registered what she said, and before biting into the dead creature, holding it up towards his face, he said, "Where?"

The woman looked out onto the river, the flow of water bouncing off the protruding, slime-slicked rocks. "Twenty five miles."

He almost choked. That was more than close. And she didn't think to tell him immediately, instead of trying to bargain him off with a scrawny meal?

"It's unguarded," she mumbled, returning to her bloody ankle.

It was beginning to pester him. "What do you mean, human?"

"It's unguarded. No one has found it yet."

Vegeta turned and distanced himself from her sorry sight. So, the dragon ball was close and unguarded. How bizarre. It shouldn't be, but there would be some explanation along the way. Who was to say that the team to find it simply didn't make it even that far? He smirked. Fucking useless, all of them.

He eased himself to the ground, and gnawed into the animal carcass, enjoying the feel of its fragile bones crunching between his teeth. Lukewarm blood dribbled down his chin, but he didn't care much for it. The taste wasn't too pleasant either, but it filled a gap. Food was not a luxury Vegeta was accustomed to. Food was merely consumed to gain strength, and to keep living. As long as it was edible, he cared very little. Being a Saiyan made this type of conditioning a struggle. Saiyans were known for their bottomless-pit-like stomachs; just something else Frieza made sure to change. He chewed thoughtfully. If he remembered correctly, the woman's ship was a ten mile walk away, somewhere south of here. From consuming the creature, he had at least enough energy to make it back to her ship, and fly the twenty five miles to the next dragon ball. They needed to pick up the pace, then.

Hopefully, wherever the dragon ball was, there would be something to help him regain his strength.

Waiting for her to alight her aircraft was laborious. It took them little under five minutes to reach the destination, but it drained what little energy Vegeta had left. It was humiliating to be left in this condition, left to wander the wastelands of a lost planet, with nothing but a human by your side. Vegeta was an illustrious fighter, feared by thousands, maybe millions, and now he was left standing under a harsh downpour of rain, waiting for this idiotic woman to get her act together. For some reason she thought it was a clever idea to use the blinding lights on her aircraft, allowing her to see in the dark. She may as well have stuck a sign on her vehicle saying, 'I'm a dumb fuck, come and kill me now, please.'

Scientist?

He scoffed aloud, folding his arms.

It appeared they'd landed amongst what looked like an abandoned city. The architecture indicated that there would have been a throng of inhabitants bustling in and out of these buildings once upon a time. A long time ago, though. The narrow, oval buildings were mostly demolished, some of them tilted so far, they looked like a toppled row of dominos. It was hard to see in the darkness, his concentrated glare shifting through the copious rainfall, but it was easy to tell that this had-been city didn't have a scrap of useful life in it at all. Not a shred. The likelihood of him finding anything to help him regain strength was nil, meaning they'd have to grab the dragon ball and head off swiftly, before any other warrior got wind of it.

Knowing that she wasn't far behind, Vegeta stepped out onto the saturated makings of a pathway, wincing from the sharp pain injecting into his ribs. There was new life growing all around, blue vines crawling out of gaping holes in the buildings, purple blades of grass poking out of rock clusters. He found the whole thing a bit odd. Seeing as the planet was purged of all life, stripped bare of anything, it persisted to grow on, without the help of natives. If he cared, he would have been a little impressed. Forgetting about it all, he continued to make his way through the city, foolishly stumbling on the odd occasion, his vision becoming a little too blurry. The dragon ball couldn't have been too far now.

"Check the radar," he said, blindly pointing to the device. He had yet to give her a single glance since they landed. He needed to focus on what was important. His physical weakness was delving deeper, scratching into his mind, allowing pointless thoughts to invade. Once he was stronger, she would be dealt with accordingly. But until then, he had to persevere.

She took a while to answer, and the voice was so collected that it set him at unease.

"Just around this corner," she said, and he assumed she was gesturing to the only right turn available, a wide bend where a building had fallen, restricting any other option.

He snarled, and ventured on, irritatingly slow, slower than he'd ever walked before. If anyone wanted to use the same ambushing skills as Burter, Vegeta would surely be dead. He was a sitting duck. His hair wilted, and sections of it drooped onto his forehead, accumulating drops of water and releasing them into his eyes. It was a fucking pain, to say the least. They both turned down the wide passage way, opening up the surroundings substantially. The buildings leaned backwards, as if welcoming them into the fresh, distinctive sight. Vegeta pensively narrowed his eyes, the relentless rain making it awkward to make out hardened shapes. Perhaps it was a mirage?

Two hundred yards away, stood a huge cathedral, towering over all the fallen buildings, its chalky walls embellished with moss and vines, all green. Why was it still standing? Every other building was a shambles, yet this particular one looked like it barely owned a puncture, or scratch, at least. The closer he got to it, the more intrigued he became. The building was so outstanding and overwhelmingly glorious that it was magnetising, drawing him in quicker than his tired legs could carry. His regards for the woman and her sanity, as minimal as they were to begin with, were completely erased by his need to get inside the cathedral, so he walked, uncaring of whether she followed or not. It was shelter, perhaps a place to gain some strength, but also, it was where the dragon ball was kept. It had to be. A building stood as tall as this?

He lifted himself up the twenty-or-more stone steps, reaching the peak, where the powerful wooden doors stood, ajar, beckoning his entrance. Heavily, he pushed the door open, its frame scraping on the chipped tiled flooring, and opened his view up to a huge space. The unwelcome presence of the woman at his side replaced his curiosity with heavy disappointment. A place like this shouldn't be soiled with a creature such as her. He could hear her breathing, steadily, perhaps transfixed with the same state of adoration as he, though it mattered very little.

Unfortunately there was seldom to see in the cathedral, the building ran completely thick with a haze of grey steam, or fog, or something of the sort. Once inside, the battering rain became softer and more of a light patter on the thirty foot stained-glass windows; streaks of rain cascaded down, creating a waterfall of colour against the glass. He looked around closely. There were tiny particles floating in the air, almost lively with the static of a rising storm. Past them, beyond the particles' ghostly motion, stood an altar, and sitting right in the centre was the dragon ball. Its distinctive orange glow was hard to mistake, even for Vegeta's wounded vision. He didn't need to consult the woman, or the radar, in order to succeed, so he set aside his weakness and strode ahead, feeling his way through the wall of thick mist.

Hardly making any progress, Vegeta resorted to using his arms to swat away the particles, in order for him to see what direction he was heading in. It was straight ahead. How hard was that, really? But for some fucking reason, he couldn't get any further than a couple of steps, sensing a grip on his muscles, like someone was physically latching on to him, pulling him back to where he started. For a moment he thought it could have been the woman, but her presence wasn't that close. Whatever it was, it was exorcising all his energy, and he could see the steam snaking off his wet clothing as his body heated from over exertion.

A galvanic tingle became present in his lungs, forcing little gasps for air out his throat, encouraging him to vacuum the available air supply, which was laden with those wretched particles. He felt the muscles in his chest spasm, before he choked and spluttered, only to inhale more and more of the particles. He fell to his knees, bracing his hands out onto the cold floor, trying to regain a normal breathing pattern, but something was stopping him. It was poison—the particles. It had to be. To his complete disgust, he hadn't even made it three meters into the poisonous fog, though it made it easier for him to retreat into clean, breathable air. As he did so, he gripped his chest, trying to alleviate the burning, hoping that he hadn't inhaled too much of it.

He heaved himself back on to his feet, once the fire in his lungs had subsided, and glared at the dragon ball on the altar, as it sat there mockingly. The fog was everywhere, except the immediate entrance to the building. It rested high on the ceilings, floating like a swarm of insects. There had to be a way around it, a way to evade the fumes, but how? He scanned the area, the thick marble pillars, and the huge glass windows heavy with a kaleidoscope of colours, all blurry with the hazy vibration of poisonous particles.

He couldn't do it. It was impossible.

Like a soulless being, the woman stepped around him and walked fearlessly into the particles, breathing the air freely. It was the first time he'd seen her properly since they landed. Her clothes were saturated, clinging to her tall, yet weakened frame, her hair wet, shiny, a darker shade of blue than usual. The way she wandered into the particles, so gracefully, despite her condition, captured him for a moment, making him forget that she was doing something which he couldn't.

She stopped and turned to face him, her features impassive. His brow furrowed, almost joining together, as he gathered what he was seeing. It appeared that the particles did nothing to deter her from breathing. She was immune to the poison. But, as he looked behind her towards the altar, he saw that the dragon ball rested further than their one hundred meter range, meaning she couldn't simply glide down there and get it.

It struck him suddenly (something that didn't happen very often) that she breezed past him into the particles, post witnessing the effects it had on him. Did she think that it would have done the same to her? Did she purposely walk through thinking it would be an easy escape out of life? He felt a stab of something in his gut. It made him want to kill her himself. He would rather do that than watch her take her own life, thus snatching his away too. Selfish bitch.

Anyway, she didn't die, and the dragon ball was still there waiting for them to take it. The woman's eyes trailed the length and width of the building, provoking him to do the same. Of course! The width. The building may have been over one hundred meters to get to the altar, but the width was considerably less than that, meaning he could scale the outside; keeping away from the particles, meanwhile the Earthling could get the dragon ball. It was too easy. He could simply follow her tiny energy signal, keeping track of her. They would have the dragon ball in their possession in no time at all. His sight fell upon her wide eyes, and it was as if she was thinking the same thing.

"I will walk on the outside of the building, and you'll remain inside to get the dragon ball," he said, watching as she nodded in agreement.

Usually she would have demurred, but today she was working efficiently, like a well-programmed machine. That's what she needed to be. Perhaps that is what she has become.

Good, he thought as he stepped out into the thudding rain.

He briefly looked out at the ruined city, the emptiness of it all. It reminded him of his home, for some bizarre reason that he couldn't place. It didn't matter. He frowned, hobbled down the steps, baring his teeth again in a poor attempt to hide the biting pain, and went to the left side of the cathedral. He closed his eyes, focused deeply on her life force, which was quite easy to find as there was no one else for miles. He found her, but she was still stationary.

"Woman, for the sake of your own life, you better get a move on," he shouted, and winced regretfully as his voice echoed unnaturally.

The rain battered his skin. He didn't know whether it was a pleasant sensation or not. It wasn't cold, but it wasn't warm, either. Finally, she moved quickly, and he followed, running his hand low along the slimy walls, partly for balance. His lungs still tingled from the particles, and he suspected that whatever he had inhaled was merely the beginning of something. He had a gut feeling that the particles would form into spores in his body and manifest somehow. In simple terms, he guessed that he was going to die soon. Despite their anatomy being similar, it was clear that the humans were in fact very different, an example being that they could withstand different toxins in the air, which Saiyans evidently couldn't. The human race wasn't as weak as he'd first presumed.

But they had been easy to eradicate.

He was nearing the end of the wall, when he felt the woman stop. A hypersonic flair in her life force made the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention. Something was in there with her, trying to kill her. He couldn't sense another life force, but what else could it have been? Vegeta instantly peeled himself away from the wall, staggered back, held out his right arm, and focused his energy into it. If anyone was going to kill her, it would be him.

The eyes staring back at her were glassy, as though they'd been subjected to hours of crying, and were bright lavender in colour. She couldn't see anything else, other than this creature's eyes, capturing her where she stood. There was no need to scream, or to show any signs of fear, because this creature knew what she felt, somehow, and she knew it knew. She felt ready for something, like this creature knew her, and was planning to tell her valuable information, but whatever it was, she had to wait to find out. In the presence of this creature, she felt no fear.

With a raucous crash, the wall behind Bulma exploded and crumbled into a pile of chalk. Forcefully, she tore her affixed gaze from the creature and turned, wild eyed, to see the destruction created. Standing in the archway of a newly destroyed wall was Vegeta, an arm extended while his other arm gripped his abdomen. He was in a considerable amount of pain. That was easy to see. He'd managed to gather enough energy to create a mess, and something about it all annoyed Bulma. Something about him pulling her away, and tearing this unknown connection between her and the creature apart, stirred a bout of anxiety she thought she'd lost.

Thankfully, Vegeta couldn't tread any further into the cathedral, for the particles still consumed any breathable air, so he stood, poised for attack. Bulma narrowed her eyes threateningly at him, silently telling him to leave, but his were trained elsewhere—on the creature behind her. And quicker than Bulma could have anticipated, a blue flash was emitted, zapping past her head. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, awaiting the empty thud of another dead body, but as the seconds passed by, and the soft downpour of the rain outside tickled her eardrums, she was encouraged to see what had changed. Why hadn't it died? Was Vegeta's attack not strong enough this time? Then, the warm, cooking heat of Vegeta's energy buzzed behind her head, provoking her to turn.

She couldn't believe what she saw. Suspended in the air, a couple inches shy of the creature's face, was Vegeta's energy blast, just hanging silently. The once lavender eyes of the creature had transformed, matching the electric blue of the blast, while the it frowned viciously, the deep concentration evident on its ghostly white face. The creature blinked, and the energy blast flew back towards Vegeta, crashing into him, knocking him off his feet.

The loud slap of Vegeta's face hitting the wet floor jolted Bulma, and she blinked, focusing her vision on the fallen Saiyan. "Vegeta," she shouted, bracing herself to sprint towards him. But as she took a step forward, a cold claw wrapped around her wrist, holding it in a vice-like grip. Her heart pounded, as if awakening, beating to its familiar rhythm, and the darkened colours in the cathedral came to live. There must have been moonlight burrowing under the thick cloud clover, because the entire cathedral lit up, sending a rainbow of colours, slicing through the stained glass. Her willingness to run for Vegeta at the first sign of trouble startled her a bit, allowing her to loosen her guard for a moment, enough to give the creature the opportunity to turn her to face it again.

A huff of air leaked out of her slightly open mouth, almost a sigh of defeat, as she gazed upon the creature again. She could truly see it now—him. He was at least seven foot tall, with large, pointy, white ears, which were covered from lobe to point with piercings. His skin was like concrete. It was grey, but in the darkness it glimmered white, coupled with the moonlight. He had bumps protruding from his forehead, running right to the back of his head, she assumed. He resembled some kind of prehistoric animal, although his lips had the likeness of a human, as did his nose. But the claw that eventually let go of her arm was very bizarre, and dangerous. Yet, he hadn't killed her, and somehow she knew he wasn't going to.

His lavender eyes read into her vacant expression, before he took a graceful step back, allowing her some space. His footsteps echoed, the sound sending a shiver down her spine.

"You made it through the fog," he stated, his face fixed into a frown, one that depicted confusion over anything else.

Bulma wanted to look back at Vegeta, but couldn't. She made it through the fog? The particles? She just assumed they were some sort of gas. It was only natural for there to be dangerous gases lurking on an uninhibited planet. She didn't even think about it, when she walked through them. She just knew that she needed to get her hands on the dragon ball, more than anything, and she did. It was safely tucked away in the back pack along with the others.

She met the creature's eyes again.

"You're pure," he said knowingly, fixing her with a hard stare.

The sound of Vegeta stirring back to life provoked an unintelligible sound from Bulma, knowing his death meant hers, too. Too many thoughts all came crashing into her head at once. She made it through the fog? Yeah, so what? Who was this creature, and why wasn't she afraid of him? Why hadn't he killed her? What had he just done to Vegeta?

She exhaled slowly, dipping her chin and staring at the floor. "Who are you?" she said, holding the straps of the back pack, but when she lifted her head, she was only greeted with the emptiness of a once holy building, with a sheen of florescent colour gracing her skin. Her hands trembled, her skin tingled, as she stood thinking whether she'd imagined it all. Thinking she'd really lost her mind, her precious mind, which had earned her so much to be proud of. Gone, under the duress of a couple inhumane acts. The creature's words batted back and forth in her head. She was pure? It was unquestionable. Those were the words that left his lips. How could she possibly be pure after what she'd done?

She looked around the cathedral again, and the particles, or the fog, had vanished, dematerialised. It had been a trap. The realisation thudded against her like an on-coming train. That creature had set the whole thing up. Bulma started when she felt a presence at her side, the presence of a bruised and battered Saiyan. A lump formed in her throat at the sight of him. She was overwhelmed with the need to help him, but knew she couldn't. He was still a malicious warrior, bent on killing anything and everything that stood in his way. He didn't think twice about sending a blast at the creature before, enemy or not.

"Do you know who that was?" she said.

Vegeta's breathing was heavy, raspy. His eye was practically black, and he was struggling to see out of it. "Of course I don't know. It didn't even have a life-force," he hissed, clenching his ribs.

Bulma tried hard not to look at him. "He wasn't another warrior," she mused, more to herself than Vegeta.

But he answered anyway, equally as dumbfounded. "Not to my knowledge."

"He was using telekinesis …"

"I'm not fucking stupid, woman. I know what the damn freak used," he spluttered, a rivulet a blood running from the corner of his mouth.

She squinted at the large windows, as if the answers to all her questions were printed in the pictures on the glass. They weren't, though. The glass only depicted fields of luscious trees and sweeping grass, not the reason why a creature had materialised out of thin air, and presented her with more stress than she already needed. Absentmindedly she wrapped her hand around her wrist, feeling the bereaved sensation the creature left. Why didn't the radar track his life-force? Was he a ghost? But, Vegeta …

The explanation she needed was too far in the distance now. It was probably somewhere beyond the sunny fields on the stained glass. But the game still continued, and they now had five balls, meaning there were only two teams left. So, another team must have perished in order for this ball to be free? Bulma shuddered as the cold crept in, taking a hold of the damp clothes on her back. Vegeta must have been worse than she thought, because he'd seemingly had no objection to them standing in the cathedral for longer than necessary.

When she shifted to see him, she became very aware that he'd been staring at her the entire time, his deep eyes penetrating her skin. Her mouth fell open to speak, but no words came out. He looked … horrific. He needed help, otherwise they were going to die, and she couldn't fend off any large enemies.

Right on cue, loud moan that escalated into a howl, rumbled far in the distance. Every hair on the back of Bulma's neck shot up, electrified, as a set of replying howls emanated closer by. Vegeta's face contorted into a mask of excruciating pain as he twisted his body towards the broken archway he'd previously created.

"What was that?" Bulma said, her words tripping over one another. She gripped onto the back pack straps harder than ever, curling her fingers tight, restricting the blood flow. Whatever it was, there was a few of them, and Vegeta being in his current state … they didn't stand a chance. Bulma remembered the knife in her pocket. She could fend them off for as long as her body would allow.

Vegeta wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, and seethed with readiness. "I don't know what it is, but we need to move, now."

A/N - I'm getting my tonsils out on Wednesday morning, so I don't know when the next update will be. But, saying that, I have two whole weeks off work because of it, so maybe I'll write more than ever. It all depends how much of a wuss I am come Wednesday night. I'll see how it goes, eh. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, anyway!