To Live Again
Author: Hieimaru
Warning: Reference to spouse beating | Violence
He was in the hospital again. His father was lying there in that sterile
bed with those sterile white sheets in a sterile white-washed room. The
bandages were once that way too, but now they were stained dingy brown
with dried blood. His little brother sat in the chair on the opposite side
of the bed staring down at their father, confusion etched on his youthful
face. He'd always hoped that Goten would never see their Otousan like
this. Everything had been going so well: 'tousan had been given his life
back, their parents lived together in the same house quietly, his studies
were going smoothly, Goten and Trunks continually got into their usual
trouble, Vegeta and Bulma bickered - all was right with the world. He'd
even begun to date Videl seriously. Now this. Why? Why did she have to
start all over again? Why wouldn't he fight back? Just why?
"Oniisan?" He glanced up to see his little brother staring wide-eyed at
him. Those innocent eyes were hurting, small pools glistening at the
edges. His own stung in response.
"What, Goten?"
"How could sh...I mean, what happened? Did this happen before? Did you lie
to me? You said they loved each other, but if she loved him, why did she
hurt him? You said he was the strongest, but look at him. Why..?" Gohan
could take no more of his brothers questions, the same ones he was trying
to answer.
"Goten. I..." he stopped, unable to say anything, to offer an excuse. "I
don't know, Goten. I just don't know." He glanced away. "I never told you
what she was like before because she wasn't like that with you. I thought
that she'd gotten better. I thought..." He fell silent, his eyes
un-focusing and staring at the white brick.
"Gohan?" the small voice pushed insistently at his meandering thoughts.
His mind, along with his eyes, readjusted.
"It was all so perfect, little brother. We were all back together again in
the same house. Okaasan was calm, Otousan seemed happy. Everything
appeared like I'd always wanted it to be...perfect. But 'touchan was
hiding again. He'd hidden what she did to him for so long. It was right
before the androids and Cell that I realized something was wrong." Gohan
looked his brother in the eyes, anger pouring off his body, fists clenched
tightly against the armrests of the chair he was in.
"I found out like you did, Goten. One day, kaasan let me go out to play
and forget about studying. I should have known..." with a quick shake of
his head he started again. "I came back home to find a note on the door.
Okaasan had taken 'touchan to the hospital because he was sick. When I got
there, here actually, a nurse took me to see him. He...he was..." choking,
he looked away from the tearing eyes peering at him. Gohan bent his head
so his brother wouldn't see.
"He looked like he does now, didn't he?" His little brother's voice
sounded so broken, so lost. He wanted to lie, to say he'd looked better
but all he could do was nod. He couldn't even speak.
"Does Okaasan love us, Gohan?" His head came up quickly.
"Yes! She does love us, Goten. We're her sons. Of course she loves us!"
"Then, will we be here one day, too?" Gohan couldn't breathe. "If she
loves us, and if she loves touchan, then won't she hurt us, too?"
He could only stare with wide eyes, over the battered body of their
father, at the shattered innocence sitting across from him.
And from the eyes of a beaten and broken man, who had held on for so long
to his ideals to protect the innocent and never hurt those weaker than
himself, tears flowed unnoticed to baptize the gauze wrapped so carefully
around his face.
================================================
Bulma hang up the phone, tears falling unheeded down her cheeks. Her
usually bright eyes were dim and faded. Slowly, she pushed her reluctant
feet one in front of the other until she stood at the kitchen table. Her
body sunk into a chair and her chin fell against her chest. She heard
someone enter the room, heard them shuffle around in the cupboards. Her
shoulders shook as she tried to repress her emotion. Oh, kami, she didn't
think she could handle this all alone right now. Trunks was with her
mother, her father was at a conference, and Vegeta was in his gravity
chamber...no, someone was there with her in the room. It had to be Vegeta.
She didn't want to look up, but a voice soon broke the silence.
"Onna..." she shook her head. She couldn't deal with his usual method of
communication. Her head continued to shake back and forth, as if to belie
the situation. She just did not want to believe that it had begun again.
"Bulma..." her head shot up at the sound of her name. There stood the
father of her children, the man she loved with all her heart, the one who
had held her during her nightmares and who'd pulled her hair back away
from her face when she was sick in the mornings pregnant with Trunks.
There stood her Vegeta, the one who took of his mask for her, the only man
to love her in the way she wanted; as a partner and friend, not a lover.
Their relationship was deeper than friendship, went further than the bonds
of lovers; it just was. They both needed that bond: she'd comforted him
and he held her. They had a child together. And now, here he was, ready to
once again let her lean on his strong shoulder.
"Vegeta!" she cried out, the tears leaving prismatic streaks in the air as
she lunged out of her chair into the arms that caught her. He just held
her as sobs shook her body and robbed her voice. And he waited.
He waited until her breathing was calm, hitching slightly every now and
then, and her death-grip around his neck freed him enough to speak.
"Bulma, tell me," his rough voice pierced through her fog. She looked up,
pain carved deeply into her face.
"I promised that I'd never tell. I told him that his secret was safe.
Gohan and I thought that she'd stopped, that she'd gotten better. But..."
she watched his eyebrows draw down over his eyes in troubled thought.
"What do you mean, onna? You speak in riddles."
"Vegeta, I..." she paused, unsure of how to explain. "Would Goku ever hurt
Chichi willingly? Would he ever put his sons in danger?"
"Of course not, that baka! He'd rather die than let..." he trailed off,
looking at her fiercely. "What has happened, onna! Tell me, Bulma!" Deadly
calm, he was Prince Vegeta once more.
She sighed and got off of him to sit in her chair. Gesturing, she told him
to sit. When he opened his mouth to retort she just looked at him in a do
you want to know or not manner.
"What can you feel from Goku right now? And don't lie to me, because I
know you can sense him!" He frowned at her, then closed his eyes to
concentrate. In a moment, they flew open wide in shock.
"Well?" she asked impatiently.
"Pain. I sense pain." He demanded an explanation without a word.
"That's to be expected when he's in intensive care." Bulma's shoulder
slumped as she spoke. Vegeta sat there unmoving, waiting, listening.
"One night many years ago, Goku came to me. He needed help. He was
bleeding and I could see bruises where ever I looked. He told me he had an
accident, that he'd fallen from Kin'toun on his way home. I didn't believe
him: he's always ridden that cloud as though it were second nature to him.
I patched him up, and he told me never to mention it, especially in front
of Chichi. I forgot about it until about two months later when he showed
up again with another lame excuse. It was the middle of the night and I
was mad, I told him to go to the hospital and slammed the door in his
face. I heard him through the door when he said he couldn't go there
because they were already suspicious. He apologized then tried to leave."
She got up to get a glass of water. Telling a story that should have been
told years ago was hard on her throat.
"Tried?" Vegeta's eyes followed her around the room. So like a predator
she thought.
"I heard a thump," Vegeta snorted a bit in laughter and she frowned at him
until he stopped. He waved her to continue. "I opened the door and I saw
him. He was..." she swallowed. The memory was clear as yesterday, and it
still choked her. "There was blood everywhere, Vegeta, everywhere. On his
clothes, in his hair, on the ground. It came from his nose and mouth, from
his ears, for kami's sake! There weren't any bruises this time, there was
only blood and cuts and..." she flinched, curling in on herself as the
memory took hold. The Saiyan simply stared, unable to move, to speak, to
do anything but listen.
"Oh, gods, Goku! What the hell happened to you?! Who did this? How could
this happen? You're so strong, Goku! You're my best friend! Please don't
die! Please!!" her sobbing cries rose throughout the room, ringing through
the empty house and echoing eerily. "So much blood! What can I do? What
can I do!" Bulma cried, eyes red and swollen, mouth open screaming, hands
clutching and pulling the blue tendrils of hair hanging limply against her
face. her body rocked to and fro, sliding from the chair to the floor. "Oh
God! Help him! Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no..."
"Bul...Bulma!" Vegeta leapt forward, grabbing the hysterical woman,
slapping her across the face with enough force to stun her. Sightless eyes
turned toward his face and he shivered unconsciously.
"I can still hear him, crying out in pain when I washed all the blood
away. He was so hot to the touch, burning up. It hurt to touch him. He
never woke up even when he started shouting her name. Never woke up even
when she came to get him, just coming into my house, walking right into
the room. She smiled at me, Vegeta. She smiled! She thanked me for taking
care of her stupid husband, that he'd gotten into another accident/fight.
She walked right up to the bed and hit him! Punched him in the face. His
eyes opened up when she screeched his name Goku! Get up this minute! You
have to come home. I need you at the house. You're so stupid Goku! So
slow! You never come home on time Goku! Where have you been?! Come on! I
can still hear her, Vegeta. Still hear her," she moaned, hands covering
her ears.
The prince of Vegeta was paralyzed. His mouth agape, his eyes stunned. No
words, nothing to say. Only one thing was vocalized.
"Ka...ka..ro...tto..." The woman on the floor looked at him, a hating
statement such as he had never seen on her face before. She shouted,
"And now she's done it again! That bitch! She did it again!" she hurdled
her body forward, fists flying as she tried to pound out her frustration
against the hard muscle of the man. Vegeta bore it all with the barest
grunt, his heart beating wildly. Kakarotto. The strongest warrior he'd
ever known. The one he told himself he hated, his rival. Battered. Abused.
And he did nothing! The baka did nothing to defend himself! Why?! He could
easily have stopped her! Ah! But she was 'weaker', she was a woman, she
was his children's mother. That's why. And Vegeta understood something
about Kakarotto then. He realized the most basic, fundamental fact about
the man he'd always fought. And in his chest where his heart beat, a
hollow abyss opened up to swallow all his pride, all his envy, all his
false hatred. He felt empty and drained, not whole. Kakarotto. The mere
thought of the other Saiyan eased that ache, that void. And behind the
name came the need to protect his friend, his warrior, his
soulmate...Vegeta choked.
When had Kakarotto become his?! When had he bonded to that baka Saiyajin?
And why was he telling himself that he was bound to Kakarotto? What the
hell was going on?!
The onna fell against him, having worn herself out. As she drifted off to
sleep, she murmured,
"Vegeta, you'll protect him, won't you?" her head rested against his
chest, her knees curled beneath her chin, arms wrapped around herself. She
glanced at him through wet lashes. "After all, you love him...ne, Vegeta?
You love him." He almost dropped her onto the hard floor. His gaze burned
the top of her head, but she didn't noticed, having fallen asleep.
"I...what?"
==================================================
A proud man stalked up to the nurses' station. He had an air about him
that commanded attention, demanded respect, deserved a bit of fear and
made all he passed stop to stare at him. But the man himself was oblivious
to all this. He had one goal, one thought. He stopped in front of the two
nurses standing behind the counter. Penetrating eyes the color of night
locked onto their faces, his gaze darting between the two like a cobra
readying its strike.
"Where is Kakarotto?" The nurses almost swooned at the sound that dripped
sex appeal. An eyebrow raised in irritation.
"Umm..ano...who?" He sighed, annoyed.
"Son Goku. Where is he?" His foot started to tap against the floor. The
other nurse backed away in fear as the air seemed to get heavier and
angry.
"He...he's in room 114! Right down the hall and to the left!" Walking
away, he smirked when he heard the two ningen women sigh in relief. Baka!
Approaching the room, his steps slowed and finally faltered to a stop.
Standing before the doorway, he peered through the glass. He could see two
figures inside, sitting beside the bed of a third. His heart slammed
itself into his throat; his lungs couldn't seem to draw in enough air. Oh,
gods, he shouldn't be here. He had no right! No...
"Vegeta-san?" He jumped a little. He hadn't even heard the door open, but
there stood Goten, Kakarotto's youngest. Only eleven years old and he had
to see his father...
"Vegeta, what are you doing here?" He looked up into the face of Gohan. In
those eyes he saw pain, knowledge, and hopelessness. Vegeta hissed, a
sudden rage enveloping him as he realized that this boy knew, and he had
done nothing!
"You little bastard!" Gohan's eyes gaped and he started to choke as
the enraged Saiyajin turned golden, grabbing his throat and forcing his
body up against the door jam. "You knew! You saw! And yet you did
nothing!" His anger had found a target; he knew it was wrong, but...he
needed so badly to blame someone. To hurt someone. He couldn't hurt that
bitch, she had been arrested when Bulma called the police.
Gohan hung limply, unable to believe that Vegeta, Vegeta, was strangling
him, accusing him of not helping his father. Goten cried the prince's
name, pulling at his arms trying to get him to let go. It was the feeling
of tears hitting his face and the sight of the liquid streaming from the
young man's eyes that finally reached the shorter man. His hands released
and Gohan fell onto his feet.
"Gohan, Goten, I..." he was ashamed. Dear kami, and he was showing it to
these to low level half-breeds! His hair faded gently into midnight. What
had he become?
"Vegeta-san." "Vegeta." Both boys looked at the prince wondrously; they'd
never known he'd actually cared.
"I was just a boy, Vegeta, when I found out. I didn't know what to do.
Otousan made me promise not to tell anyone. I didn't know what to do! I
just didn't know!"
Goten held up his brother when he collapsed, dry and silent sobs
shuddering through his frame. After a moment, the prince moved to envelope
the two hurting boys in his arms in an awkward embrace. Stunned, the two
sons of Kakarotto could only marvel at the harsh and cold facade that hid
this man who held them with a father's arms. And they cried there inside
the doorway to new beginnings.
They all stepped inside, closing the door on their drama.
***********
Stoically silent, the dark Saiyajin read through the list of the other's
injuries. His heart screamed he is mine...how dare she touch him! His mind
plotted revenge, and his soul cried frozen tears that slowly melted as
they touched memories of the tattered man laying in the bed. Four
fractured ribs, two cracked; sprained wrist; punctured lung; lacerations
of the face, chest, abdomen and groin; hairline fracture in left pelvis;
spiral fracture of right ankle; internal tearing of ... Vegeta's hands
tightened into white-knuckled fists. His entire being stunned. His body
began to shake. The two half-Saiyans backed away from the prince; the
black aura of hatred and rage was palpable. The head slowly raised, eyes
flashing ebony and aqua as he struggled to reign his power.
"He's mine! She dared to..." he couldn't finish the sentence, his voice
constricted by the fury smoldering in his skin. The Saiyan Prince looked
at the sons of his warrior. "He is mine! Never will that woman, that bitch
come near what is mine ever again! I won't allow it!"
Gohan opened his mouth to ask what Vegeta meant, but the older man
answered the question before it was asked.
"I claim him. Do you hear me? Do you recognize my claim? I, the Saiya-jin
no Ouji, claim this warrior, Kakarotto, as MINE!" His eyes dared them to
defy him, simmering darkly at them both.
"Huh? What do you mean? I don't get it. Hey, Gohan, what is he..."
"Goten, hush." The older boy stared at the enraged Saiyan. Willing himself
to understand, to see past everything, he finally saw the truth. This man
would protect his father; he would respect his touchan, never hurt him
like his okaasan did. The young man couldn't understand how it happened,
but the man before him, the one who'd screamed for his father's death and
fought him religiously, was in love with him. For the first time in a long
time, Gohan smiled a true smile, happy for his father. He'd always known
touchan's feelings for his prince ran deeper than anybody else realized.
Maybe his otousan had a chance at happiness after all. Grabbing his little
brother with a startled "huh?" from the kid, he steered them both to the
door.
"I recognize your claim, Vegeta...sama. You are his Prince after all. He
has always said this." He grinned a little as Vegeta's eyes widened a
fraction. "Thank you. I know you'll take care of him." He turned opened
the door and stepped out, pulling Goten along. Before he closed the door,
he had one last thing to say.
"Hey, Vegeta? Don't forget to invite us all to the wedding!" he chuckled
as he left. Before the door closed the blushing incredulous Prince could
hear a young clueless voice say,
"Huh?"
"You're just like touchan, Goten, did you know that?"
"Huh?" Small laughter.
The normally haughty royalty just stood there, mouth agape, a bright blush
covering his cheeks and getting brighter. What had he just done? Oh kami!
=====================================================
Light...lancing...hurts...PAIN!!! Groaning, he squeezed his eyes shut
tightly trying to move a hand to cover them. A snag, and he squinted down.
There was an IV flowing into his hand. He quivered at the thought of a
needle, but then decided it was too much to worry about right at the
moment. He was so sore. Kami, another damn hospital room.
"Good morning, Kakarotto," the quiet whisper spread panic through his
veins. Oh kami no! Not him! I can't face him...not like this! Oh gods,
what must he think! He knew that if the man in the room with him mocked
him, he'd be done with. He'd just end it all and not care anymore. He
wouldn't be able to.
"Ve...Vegeta. I...Ano...How are you? Still training hard? Sorry I missed
our spar, I'll make it up to you. I..." he prattled nervously.
"Baka. Shut up, Kakarotto, just shut up." Still a whisper. Kami! He knows!
He knows!
"I..."
"Why? Just tell me why. Why did you let her do this? How could..."
"Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!!!" Anger. Rage. Hatred. He shouldn't be
feeling these things. He was better than this. Dammit! A breathed slowly,
trying to calm himself. It wasn't working, so he resorted to what he had
always done. The mask was yanked surely over his face.
"What do you want to know for, Vegeta? She doesn't mean anything by it,
she just..." he fell silent as a hand slapped him across his bruised face.
Astonished he turned to look....and stared. "Geta?" murmured.
Emotion. Hurt. Betrayal. Rage. Hatred. Pain. A plea for knowledge.
Confusion. Glistening eyes peering at him. For me? But I'm nothing to him.
"Why, Kakarotto?"
"..."
The two Saiyans gazed at each other - endlessly it seemed, until at last
the silence shattered. Shaking sobs. Tears soaking into damaged and dry
skin.
"It hurts so much, 'Geta. So much." Earth's strongest warrior curled in on
himself in to a fetal ball, not looking at the man who meant so much to
him. Kakarotto stiffened as strong arms lifted him away from the bed and
held him close. Gasping in not a little pain, the arms gentled and the
strong warrior carried his body to the window.
"What? Vegeta, what are you doing?" panic. Was he going to drop him to his
death onto the cement twenty stories below?
"I'm taking you to get one of those damn beans. You need to be out of this
place." straightforward answer, no emotion in his voice. The injured
Saiyan sighed gratefully, settling more deeply into the arms holding him.
He never noticed the reaction his movements caused. The prince blushed the
entire trip.
***********
"Now tell me. Everything." It was an order. From prince to subject; he
couldn't not answer. And he so needed to tell someone. Maybe...maybe he
won't hate me for being weak. It had taken two sensu beans to heal him.
He'd winced at that. But now he was ensconced in a bed that smelled like
Vegeta - honey and musk and pine. He was clean and dressed. And he started
his story.
"Did I ever tell you that Chichi tricked me into marrying her? It wasn't
like how the others have told you. I've never even told Bulma the truth of
why I married her, or of how Gohan was conceived." His tale took all day
and by night, the exhausted man could barely keep his eyes open to eat
anything. Vegeta was appalled. The earth woman had tricked Kakarotto all
right. She'd drugged his food. She'd drugged him again after he woke up.
The damn bitch gave him his fear of needles! He was terrified of needles
because he remembered what his wife had done to him each time she
paralyzed him with a fucking drug! One thing was certain: Gohan never
needed to know that he was conceived a week before his parents were
married. He never needed to know that the beatings and abuse started on
that night when she raped the young man who had trusted so blindly. Even
Freiza had never gone so far as to rape his little monkey prince. Vegeta
sneered in disgust at the thought of the iceling. The two would have
gotten along famously; Chichi and Freiza. The prince looked at the man
sleeping in his bed. He was so strong, physically and mentally. But
emotionally... Vegeta vowed to correct that. He made a silent promise to
the sleeping warrior. Moving a chair to the side of the bed, he prepared
to settle down to a night of vigilance. He would never let anything hurt
Kakarotto again, not even nightmares. He leaned over the edge of the bed.
Carefully he reached a hand out and with feather light fingertips he
traced the contours of the slumbering man's face.
"Never again, Kakarotto. I'll never let her near you again. I'll kill her
if she even tries." he strokes along the jaw, tilting the face up.
Lightly, oh so lightly, their lips touch chastely. "I'll be here,
Kakarotto. If you ever need me, if you ever want me, I'm here. It's almost
funny. I am royalty, and yet it took you, a third class fool, to show me
what sacrifice is, what honor is. You showed me how a true warrior acts,
and you taught me that anyone can be royalty, and royalty can be nothing."
He paused and sighed. "I will always have my pride, Kakarotto. I can't let
it go. I won't. But you are much more the prince than I. I hated you for
that. And I love you for it. Dear kami, help me, because I love you."
"And behaving like a lovesick fool isn't me." Silence. Then his breath was
stolen...he was caught!
"Vegeta?" soft, breathy. Jerking away and falling back, he scrambled to
his feet and to the door.
"K'so!" He wanted so badly to run, but a prince does not run. And so he
stayed his ground, drawing himself to stand tall and faced the one who'd
claimed his heart and soul.
"Geta? Do you...did you...you love me?" midnight eyes open in wonder, lips
parted. A tongue dashed out to lick those lips and he stifled a groan.
Closing his eyes, he nodded.
"Kakarotto, I know you could never...I just..."
"Vegeta, do you mean what you said? That you loved me?" Vegeta cringed at
the heartbroken tone that had entered the other's voice. He couldn't lie.
"Hai. I...ai shiteru, Kakarotto no baka." And he did run.
"Geta!"
********
The tall Saiyajin stumbled as he tried to dash from the bed. Violently he
yanked the twisted sheets away from his limbs and ran to follow the
fleeing prince. Always so proud, so remote and untouchable. Never in a
million years had he dreamed...maybe all the pain he'd gone through would
finally be rewarded with the sweetest prize of all. The man he'd dreamt of
for the past kami knows how long. Through the house and into the sky, he
held onto the trace of ki for dear life. Finally, he caught up in a
forested area a few miles away from the capsule house.
"Vegeta! Matte!" he shouted towards the shadow in the moonlight. He landed
and ran after the fleet-footed figure. Closing in, he launched and tackled
his prize. They tumbled and rolled to a stop, the one beneath him not
fighting, but he still wrapped himself around the prince, breathing hard
in exertion and fear.
"Please...please," he begged. "Please don't leave me too! I don't think I
could live with that. Not now. I love you, Geta. Love you so bad it hurts.
Please don't go." Tears began and wouldn't stop. The body beneath him
remained motionless and calm. He sobbed. Letting go, he untangled his
limbs, not looking at the face of the man he loved. Starting to back away,
he apologized for presuming too much. Just as he was about to get up, he
was grabbed and pulled into an embrace so tight and warm he thought he'd
gone to heaven.
"Never let you go, Kakarotto. Once you're mine, I will never let you leave
me." The warning was clear. The emotion bled through the words. The taller
Saiyajin smiled as he answered.
"Make me yours, and I'll never be able to leave." His prince cupped both
sides of his face with the palms of glove-covered hands. He stared into
ebony pools.
"I've claimed you, Kakarotto."
"That's okay, as long as I can claim you, too." He's gorgeous! That smile!
The Prince drew his warrior down for a kiss, deep and sensuous. He
followed the strong jaw, tasting and memorizing until he reached the
junction of shoulder and throat. Hands buried fully into the thick hair of
the man atop him, Vegeta beared his teeth and marked his lover, his
soulmate. He moaned in pleasure when he felt the answering mouth on his
own skin. They'd each bonded to the other. Quickly he flipped the taller
man onto his back and settled astride him. Devouring the pleading mouth,
he stripped them both quickly, craving skin against skin. Kakarotto
reached for the stars and was given two for his effort–the shining eyes
of the man making love to him. And he felt that finally, because of this
man, this prince, this protector of his soul and owner of his heart, he
could learn to live again.