Ch 19
Yamcha crash landed in the yard
of Capsule Corporation, his mouth filling with mud and blades of grass as he
tumbled across the lawn. The lights of the buildings shone through the heavy
rain, guiding him as he crawled across the ground, reaching out to the door. If
only he was in time, if only she could get away before that horrible Vegeta
showed up. Muscles in his chest protested and ground together as he pulled his
way to her house inch by inch, his damaged body barely able to move. He was
grateful for the slippery grass as he wormed his way towards her door, but he
could only hope he would be in time.
The Earth warrior had crashed to the ground with a thud, apparently too wounded
to fly any farther, and began to crawl towards the yellow domed structure.
Vegeta licked his lips as the long-haired man coughed and sputtered in his
efforts to reach the door, calling out one word over and over in a voice about
to shatter: “Bulma!”
Vegeta smiled and began to drift
slowly to the earth, anticipating finishing off the loud-mouthed, scarred man,
when he felt a hand on his epaulet. “Don’t,” Zarbon cautioned, his golden eyes
flashing. “You have no idea what’s in the building and you’re still wounded
from the fight.”
Vegeta could barely hear him
over the echo of Radditz’s scream in his head, the volume of which had risen
the closer they got to the yellow domed buildings. He bared his teeth, feeling
the unreleased energy course through him. “I don’t care,” he snarled, shaking
off the hand. The Earthling had hurt his pride, and for that he would pay in
blood. The man turned and looked up at him, dark eyes filled with unbelieving
dread, and Vegeta felt a laugh escape him as the electricity left his veins and
became a surrounding light.
“Vegeta!” he heard Zarbon shout,
but his power was already beating away in his temples, barely-contained. For a
fleeting instant he felt his body shudder as if it remembered its sleepless
exhaustion, his vision already cloudy and tunneled and his thoughts blurred. He
was barely even aware of it as his aura expanded and he plummeted to earth, the
figure of the downed man in his sights. He dimly noticed another person burst
from the door of the yellow dome, not really paying attention until the new
figure planted itself firmly in front of the Earth man, arms spread. He began
to ignore it, prepared to run it through in order to reach his goal of
destroying the other warrior, when his glance happened to flicker across the
new person’s face. He stopped dead in his tracks, deaf to Zarbon’s cried as his
eyes widened and his whole body quaked with tension. Set in the new Earthling’s
face were two blue, sparkling eyes.
“You’re not going to hurt him,”
the new Earthling, a woman, said in level tones.
They were the same eyes. The
eyes that had haunted him for months, that blue gaze following him through
waking space as well as his dreams. Without really thinking he powered up
again, breaking the ceiling of his limits, and sped towards her, lashing out an
arm. His gloved hand grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her forward so
that she could not help but stare into his eyes. He could feel the fragile
bones in her slender, soft neck and knew that he could kill her with a flick of
his wrist. His power flared higher as the madness of sleep deprivation coated
him, and his exhausted, fevered mind came upon a simple solution to the
unwelcome commotion in his skull.
Bulma had heard Yamcha yelling outside and ran to him immediately, her stomach
sinking when she saw his torn body trying pathetically to crawl across her
lawn. A flash of light in the cloud-darkened sky had caught her attention, and
when she looked up and saw the two figures floating there she knew the Saiyan
had come at last. It could be no one else but Vegeta. A sudden flash of light
cut through the gray, falling rain like a saber and blinded her, and before she
knew it she was standing in front of her ex-lover, arms spread. Her every nerve
shrieked at her to flee, that the man speeding towards her could kill her
without breaking a sweat. Tired warnings shot through her still, as she stood
staring at him while the rain ran over his knuckles and onto her neck where he
held her so tightly she barely dared breathe. “Please don’t kill him,” she
whispered, keeping her head completely still.
His eyes were still locked with
the woman’s when he heard her quiet plea, and he felt his anger at the
Earthling man multiply. Blueness threatened to swallow him whole, and he felt
something inside of him snap. He was aware of time flowing through his veins, as
if his heart were sucking it out of his surroundings and circulating eternity
through his body instead of blood.
Her eyes were stuck on his, a
shudder wracking her body as she withered in the heat of his stare. For a
moment it seemed that time itself slowed as she stared into those black,
hellish depths, her breath leaving her as she felt herself pulled. In those
deep, dark eyes of his she saw hate and anger, strong and unadulterated,
terrible, bone-wrenching exhaustion, the fringes of madness, and as she winced
in his grip shecould have sworn something else flickered at the bottoms of
those onyx pools, something else entirely...
He wanted to kill her. He wanted
to move his fingers and crush those fragile bones, watch her head sag on the
boneless neck as she died, but something stopped him. Something in the depths
of those impossibly blue eyes held him back and beckoned to him instead. What
was she? Why couldn’t he do it? She deserved it, for haunting him for the
better part of a year, and yet he knew he would not kill her. She was an
enigma, a challenge, and he never refused a challenge. Instead of twisting her
neck in his hands and sending her to oblivion he pulled her closer, feeling her
breath stir the flesh on his cheeks, smelling her as scents other than fear
rolled off of her warm body. She gasped in his grasp and winced, and something
tore across his insides so violently he almost released her involuntarily. He
looked at her again and realized that he hadn’t powered down; most likely his
aura was superheating her fragile human structure. He was about to power down
without thinking about it when he heard someone touch down in the grass behind
him and felt the fringes of a new power with his senses. “Let her go and there
won’t be trouble,” a voice said.
“There will be trouble
regardless,” Vegeta said with a smile, not tearing his eyes away from her
rain-stained face. She closed her eyes and swallowed, and he gently withdrew
his fingers and turned away from her. He heard her crumple to the ground as he
moved to face the new voice, her breath coming in ragged but relieved gasps.
“I don’t want trouble,” the new
man said. “I just would like to know what you want from us.”
Vegeta studied the new man, who
was tall with a powerful, thick build, his head ruled by random black spikes of
hair. A pair of eyes not unlike his own glared back at him, full of forgiveness
and defiance simultaneously. The man was undoubtedly Saiyan. The man could be
no other than Kakarott. “You look exactly like your father,” he said quietly.
The new fellow cocked his head
to the side, the corner of his mouth turning up in a semi-smile. “Yeah, I’ve
been told,” he replied, studying the other Saiyan. This guy was a lot smaller
than both himself or Radditz, and yet he had a commanding presence. Goku’s eyes
flickered up to where he saw the other alien floating, an expression of
apprehension smeared across his face. The other Saiyan didn’t seem to notice
the alien’s watchfulness, and Goku found himself wondering vaguely what was
going on. The shook his head and returned to studying the little Saiyan. He was
barely even taller than Bulma! Yet his senses did not lie; the little man was
compact and muscular, and his power was staggering, completely overshadowing
everyone except for the stranger watching from the stormy sky. Goku wiped some
rainwater from his face and turned it to the floating man. “Who are you?” he
blurted. Radditz hadn’t mentioned there being a green-haired alien.
The floating man blinked down at
him in surprise. “Why do you want to know?” he replied coolly, keeping his arms
folded across his chest as his braid whipped to and fro in the storm-driven
wind.
Goku shrugged. “Well, I was just
wondering why you’re not fighting. You’re a lot stronger than this one is,” he
said, gesturing at the shorter Saiyan with a jerk of his head. He heard a
strangled snarl and turned around to see that the other Saiyan had bared his
teeth, his clenched fists shaking.
“I am...employed...by Lord
Vegeta,” the pale alien answered, sending a worried golden glance over to the
one he called Vegeta. Goku raised his eyebrows. “The Prince is not well, you
see,” the alien continued with a wave of his hand.
“Shut up, Zarbon!” Vegeta
shouted, raising a fist. “I ordered you to stay out of this!”
Zarbon shrugged. “As you wish,
sir. I was nearly informing Kakarott of the situation, that’s all.”
Goku looked up, annoyed at the
sound of his Saiyan name. “Please, call me Goku,” he announced to Zarbon, who
seemed to have a lot more sense than that Vegeta fellow. “I don’t remember
Vejiitasei at all, and consider myself an earthling.” At the moment, he wished
he’d never even heard of Vejiitasei. First his strange brother and now this
Vegeta guy, who looked as if he was itching to blow things up. Goku felt sweat
bead on his brow before the falling rain washed it away. Both the newcomers
were more than strong enough to blast him out of existence, even with King
Kai’s training. They had sorely underestimated their enemy’s strength, not that
he couldn’t still give them a run for their money. He ground his teeth at the
thought of dying again so quickly. He wanted to see ChiChi, he missed her soft
skin and wonderful cooking, the way she smiled and how her eyes glittered when
he made her happy, even the way her voice broke when she was shrieking at him
for being bad. Then there was his dear son, who had probably grown up so much
in the past year, his sweet smiling baby’s face becoming leaner with
wisdom...he just couldn’t bear to die again so soon. He’d miss out on so much,
but there wasn’t much he could do. If he didn’t find a way to beat these two
there was a possibility no one would live another year. His resolve hardened
within him like a steel rod and he stood up straight, flexing his fists.
“You’re a traitor,” Vegeta
hissed, beginning to sink into a battle position.
Goku shrugged. “That’s what
Radditz said,” he replied nonchalantly. He looked at the man, realizing that
Zarbon had been right, Vegeta really did look pretty sick. “Hey, are you okay?”
he asked, suddenly concerned. He was afraid, but also excited at the
opportunity to test his strength against someone stronger, and he didn’t want
his opponent to be sick or weakened in the slightest. It just wasn’t fair.
“I’m fine,” Vegeta snapped, eyes
darting around in the rain, looking for possible danger.
“I fail to see how this man is a
traitor when he obviously can’t remember what he’s betraying,” Zarbon
interrupted. “And Vegeta is most certainly not fine, Kaka....er, Goku. Your
brother’s been torturing him for the better part of a year.”
Goku straightened up. “Radditz?
He’s evil, no doubt about it, but I didn’t think he was the torturing type,” he
replied, surprised.
Vegeta stood up as well, his
frustration mounting. “Are you two going to talk me to death or are we going to
fight, Kakarott?” he shouted.
“And I thought I told you to
stay out of this!” he directed at Zarbon.
Zarbon’s eyes widened and he
placed two fingers over his lips. “Oh, yes, terribly sorry,” he said, shrugging
and rolling his eyes at Goku.
“Stop it!” Vegeta shouted,
gathering energy.
Zarbon floated backwards a
little in the gray sky. “Remember, sir, it’s not me you’re supposed to be
fighting,” he chastised Vegeta.
Vegeta growled in exasperation.
“Let’s go, Kakarott!” he shouted, and lunged towards the other Saiyan.
Goku was distracted by the
strange exchange between the two aliens and was therefore unprepared for the
attack, barely blocking it before his ribs shattered. He mentally apologized
for wishing Vegeta was at full strength; he was going to have a hard enough
time as it was. He twisted around under Vegeta’s blows and tried for a leg
sweep, but Vegeta jumped it easily and kicked Goku in the arm. Goku grunted and
flexed his muscles to protect the bones, barely escaping a fracture. He
staggered backwards and Vegeta followed, driving forward with a fist as Goku
fell down. Goku saw the fist coming and rolled to the side, gasping as Vegeta’s
hand drove a foot into the soil next to him. “My mother’s lawn!” a female voice
wailed, and Goku saw Vegeta’s head snap around to stare at Bulma with lips
barely parted, as if he was going to reply. He took the opportunity to punch
Vegeta in the face, watching with satisfaction as the other Saiyan flew through
the air and landed in a hastily-executed handspring. Goku followed through with
another punch, his eyebrows lowering as Vegeta laughed and caught his fist.
Goku growled and threw his other fist, which Vegeta also caught, cackling as he
jumped through Goku’s arms and sat on them, raising his fists above his head in
order to smash the other man. Goku closed his eyes and went in for a head-butt,
surprising Vegeta and knocking him away. He rubbed his forehead, one eye shut,
as he watched Vegeta pick himself off the ground, his forehead streaming blood,
the eyes above the purple circles looking absolutely murderous. Blue light
began to crackle around Vegeta’s body, his eyes alight with destruction as he
extended an arm in Goku’s direction. Goku crossed his arms in front of his face
and dug in as the ki ball hit his shield and exploded, pieces of sod and fabric
whipping through the stormy air. Goku was glad for the rain as the heat
enveloped him, singeing his clothes and hair. He heard a little gasp of surprise
and looked over towards the building, where he saw Bulma and her mother trying
to drag a half-conscious Yamcha into the house.
“They’re going to ruin my
petunias,” Mrs. Briefs sighed, looking straight at Goku.
“Mother! Vegeta’s trying to kill
us all!” Bulma hissed, going pale when she saw that they had attracted the
attention of the evil Saiyan. His black eyes bored into hers and she realized
what it was that she had seen at the bottoms of his eyes when he held her in
his hands: death. His eyes snapped away and refocused themselves onto Goku,
leaving her trembling with fear in her revelation. He wanted to die, in some
dark, secret part of him, and he wanted to take out some people with him. She
shuddered, wondering how alone one must feel to want to die, and how terrible
to want to take people with you.
Goku had decided that it was
time to turn up the heat. He was outclassed, but that didn’t mean it was over.
He pulled his hands back at his waist and let loose his most powerful beam.
“Kamehameha!” he shouted, extending his arms towards Vegeta.
Vegeta’s aura turned purple as
he screamed, the beam crackling uselessly on his barrier. He let loose a
barrage of ki balls in return, sending Goku scrambling as pieces of lawn and
building disintegrated into nothingness. “Kaio-ken times two!” Goku shouted,
his aura flaring red as he dove directly towards Vegeta, almost landing a fist
in his midsection. Vegeta brought a knee up into Goku’s ribs and he faltered,
giving Vegeta enough time to bury a gloved hand in his hair and deal him a
hearty blow to the head. Goku felt blood fill his mouth as his body twisted to
the sides before the hand released him and he fell to the ground. Vegeta
smirked and rose into the air, arms crossed. Goku snarled through his teeth and
flew up as well, silently happy to be away from Mrs. Briefs’ lawn. “Kaio-ken
times three!” he screamed, rocketing upward with fist extended and catching
Vegeta on the underside of his jaw. Vegeta’s back arched as he went sailing
through the air, blood spraying from him in fine droplets and mixing with the
rain. Vegeta spun in the air, using his head as the axis, and brought his foot
into Goku’s face just as he was nearing. Goku gasped and fell a little before
speeding around to Vegeta’s back, pointing his toes and driving his feet into
the back of Vegeta’s armor. Vegeta sped to the ground, a small crater forming
where his body hit.
Stars exploded in Vegeta’s
vision as he lay facedown in the wet dirt, the voice screaming in his head
drowning out all other sounds, even the mad pounding of blood in his ears. His
body wasn’t rested enough to defeat the puny warrior, who was surprisingly
strong despite being son of a third-class soldier. Then again, Bardock had
always shown incredible leaps of strength...he shook his head and fought off
darkness as he realized that he had been lying there for a few minutes. Rising
shakily to his knees, he gathered all his energy in a vein-wrenching effort and
released it at Kakarott the second that Bardock’s youngest son shrieked “Genki
Dama!”
Zarbon paled as he watched the
big blue orb head straight for Vegeta. It was slow, but he wasn’t in shape to
get out of the way. He staggered a little to the side, backing up, when his
beam hit Kakarott and flash-fried him. Kakarott screamed and fell to the ground
the same instant that the blue thing hit Vegeta and launched him up into the
sky in a blaze of light. Zarbon scowled and rocketed after them, stopping
Vegeta’s ascent and supporting him under the armpits as he cleared his head.
“I told you to stay out of it,”
he snarled at Zarbon.
“I would have if you’d had the
sense to avoid that blast,” Zarbon hissed back. “Now get this over with so I
can get you into a tank.”
“I don’t need a tank,” Vegeta
spat, and lowered himself gingerly to the ground, planting his feet and folding
his arms across his chest as he glowered at Kakarott, who was trying to stand
up.
Goku rose to kneeling, looking
up at Vegeta’s scowling face, his stomach sinking into his boots. There was no
way he could win. The Genki Dama had hardly even fazed him, and Goku was out of
tricks. There was only death with honor, he decided, and began to power up past
his limits, hoping to goad Vegeta into finishing him off quickly. Don’t,
a voice said inside his head. Don’t throw your life away, Kakarott. We still
need you.
Who? Goku thought back, still staring Vegeta
in the face.
Tell him you’re glad to serve
such a powerful prince,
the voice urged.
Why? Goku thought frantically.
Just do it, Brother! Do you
want to live or not?
Goku bowed his head before
Vegeta. “I’m proud to serve such a powerful prince,” he murmured, watching
Vegeta through his bangs.
Vegeta’s body twitched a little
as he stared down at Kakarott. “Eh?” he said, raising an eyebrow, the bruises
even more apparent.
“Radditz was right. You’re
unbelievably strong,” Goku said with real admiration as his body reminded him
that it wasn’t going to hold out much longer.
“Of course,” Vegeta replied,
reaching out tentatively with his mind.
I’m here, Radditz’s voice said into his head. I’ll
live.
Vegeta’s eyes widened as the
screaming in his head stopped. Silence thundered down upon with such force that
he was driven to his knees, a hand pressed to his temple in amazement. His gaze
found Zarbon’s before his body gave out, his eyes rolling back in his head as
he collapsed unceremoniously onto the grass. Zarbon floated down and gently
picked up the prince in his arms.
Goku looked up at his golden
eyes, falling backwards as pain rocketed through every nerve. “Wow,” he
breathed, surprised.
“You’re lucky, earthling,”
Zarbon said quietly, Vegeta’s limp, rain-soaked form draped over his shoulder.
“He could have turned you to cinders.”
“I know,” Goku replied
seriously. “But you could turn him into ash as well, if you ever revealed all
your power.”
Zarbon raised a thin eyebrow.
“We’re returning to our ship. Once the Prince has recovered we will be back for
Radditz,” he said, glancing skyward. He regarded Goku once again, his cold face
staring down the earth-Saiyan. “You did the only thing that could have saved
your tail. If you play your cards right you might be able to buy the life of
this planet by pledging your allegiance to him,” he suggested, watching Goku’s
eyes narrow. He shrugged, sending Vegeta’s body bouncing slightly. “Think on
it. We’ll be back,” he said, and was gone with a blaze of ki.
Goku leaned back into the wet
grass, his eyes blinking with rain and tears. He was alive. He would see his
wife and son once again. All thanks to his brother. His chest rose and fell
violently as he reached out with his senses, searching. A few moments later he
found them; the kis of his friends flickering weakly in the distance, Gohan’s
among them. So his friends and son were still alive. Goku’s heavy brows fell a
little as he wondered why. All of them put together weren’t a match for Vegeta,
although Gohan and Piccolo could probably have given him a good run. Why were
his friends alive? He closed his eyes in the falling rain and tilted his head
back. Ah, yes, that Zarbon guy. He was different than Vegeta. He must have
somehow convinced Vegeta that killing everyone wasn’t a good idea, although he
had no idea how the green-haired man would have done such a thing, or even why.
Zarbon was different than Vegeta, yes, but Goku still saw cold violence in him.
He was still capable of killing millions in cold blood. So they must have a
different reason, one not based on pity or compassion or even sport, for
sparing them all. Goku’s brain seemed to sigh as it wore itself out, his
stomach crying out through the rain. He shook his head and stood gingerly, sore
muscles and internal bleeding making him stiff. Taking a step in the slippery
grass he nearly stumbled, his knees buckling in his exhaustion. Something
grabbed him by the back of the gi and hoisted him upwards until he was able to
get his legs underneath him. Goku turned his head slowly, his eyes heavy-lidded
above a lopsided smile. “Oh, hi, how’s it going?” he asked softly as he braced
himself on his knees by locking his elbows.
Sharp, white teeth flashed as
they were bared. “Badly,” a gruff voice answered. “Vegeta made short work of
us. We weren’t very...collected when he showed up.”
Goku shrugged. “Yeah, I know the
feeling,” he said with a short laugh. “Luckily he wasn’t very collected
either.” His eyes softened as he saw what Piccolo had folded under one arm.
“Thanks, Piccolo,” he whispered, wanting to reach out and touch the soft hair
but unable to move without falling over.
Piccolo grunted and shifted the
weight of the little boy. “I didn’t save him for you. He’s got amazing
potential and we needed the help. Unfortunately he seems to have quite a bit of
his mother’s famous impatient temper and got taken out early on.”
Goku smiled. “Hope he grows out
of it.”
Piccolo snorted in disdain.
“He’ll have to. I have no doubt in my mind that Vegeta will try to kill us all
again. I’m surprised he didn’t this time,” he muttered as he stroked Gohan’s
hair idly.
Goku watched the tender gesture,
his heart warming. Vegeta was evil, there was no doubt about that, but love had
certainly changed the Demon King. Hopefully that was one enemy down, one to go.
“I think it had something to do with that Zarbon,” he offered, not taking his
eyes off of his son.
Piccolo looked at him with
detached curiosity. “What? I didn’t think Zarbon was particularly outstanding
either.”
Goku scratched his knee, feeling
the fabric moist with blood. “Yeah, I know,” he sighed, “But he wasn’t crazy
like Vegeta. I don’t know if that makes him more or less dangerous.” There had
been something really wrong with Vegeta, and hadn’t been capable of fighting at
full strength. He fought the disappointment staining his insides at not being
able to test himself against that power, then reminded himself to say a silent
prayer of thanks, for if Vegeta had been healthy Goku realized he probably
would have had to self-destruct to beat him.
Piccolo’s head swiveled, his
eyes focusing off into the distance. “The others are up,” he said quietly. “For
all the good it does us.”
Goku began to reply, then
remembered the end of his fight. “It was Radditz who stopped the fight,” he
blurted, surprised as he recollected.
“What?” Piccolo said with a
scowl, staring him down.
Goku’s eyes went wide as they
blinked rainwater away. “Yeah! He told me what to do and say inside my head,
and it totally disarmed Vegeta!”
Piccolo shifted Gohan’s weight.
“How unexpected,” he replied under his breath.
Goku nodded. “I should go thank
him,” he said, and moved to go towards the buildings, only taking a few steps
before his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed onto the lawn. Piccolo
watched the rain spatter on the back of the orange gi, the water creating
little rivers as it traveled downwards.
“Looks like it’s time for a
senzu or two,” he muttered to the still-unconscious bundle he held, tucking the
boy further under his cape as he rose into the sky.
18 / Bulma’s Hideout / 20