The Light to my Darkness

BY : SaiyanPrince541
Category: Dragon Ball Z > AU - Alternate Universe
Dragon prints: 5250
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN DRAGON BALL Z, OR ANY OF THE PRIMARY CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY!! THOSE ARE ALL TORIYAMA'S!! THIS IS A NON-PROFIT, FAN-MADE STORY!!!

Chapter 3: Rubbed off

Bulma wound her arms and legs tightly behind Vegeta, as he flew off at astronomical speeds. She could barely stomach seeing him, let alone being in such close proximity, but had little choice except to hold on for dear life.

A couple minutes later, she felt blood leaking from his back and seeping into her dark blue t-shirt. Yajirobe had truly dealt him a critical blow.

"You're bleeding." She stated the obvious.

"So?!" He scowled back.

"Get down so I can patch you up." Bulma requested.

"Mind your fucking place-"

"Look, you've got my nice shirt all bloody and if you don't get down now, you could die!" She exclaimed.

"This is nothing but a flesh wound." Vegeta scoffed. It didn't take a genius to surmise that she was probably trying to catch him off guard. After all, if she were some sort of brilliant inventor and scientist, letting down his defenses could prove to be a decisive error. "This is mere child's play for me."

Bulma tried to protest, but Vegeta continued his flight. After about five minutes, it became too much and he unwittingly began descending downwards.

"Hey, are you alright?" Bulma asked out pure instinct and bit her lip afterwards. Why the hell would she ask him that?! She hated him more than anyone or anything!

"I'm fine!" He yelled back in a weak voice.

Bulma flinched and opened her mouth after a brief pause.

"Y-You're f-f-falling."

"Uhhh…" Vegeta was starting to black out, as he descended and finally hit the ground, collapsing face-first, as the world began fading around him. Bulma was stunned at this most fortunate turn of events and climbed off of him.

'Yech, what a goddamn mess!' She thought to herself, as she gazed upon her bloodied shirt. She then looked at the Prince, as he was passed out on the floor, the blood still exuding out of his wounds. She grit her teeth. 'Ha! Serves your right, you bastard!'

Bulma couldn't explain it, but she didn't feel any better now than she did before. Yamcha, Tien and Chiaotzu were still dead, Kami and Piccolo too. It didn't make sense. Shouldn't this fucker's demise offer her at least some degree of alleviation? If anything it was making her feel worse. Why was that? He deserved to die, didn't he?

'No, Bulma, don't even think about trying to help him!' She severely castigated herself as the thought hit her, but no matter what her mind said, her heart kept throbbing as she saw the blood keep oozing its way out of his back. Whatever he may or may not have done, he was still a living being. Could she really leave him here to die? No, she couldn't. The mere thought of it made guilt claw its way up her spine.

'God, what is wrong with me?!' She self-chided. 'Stupid Goku! It's his fault! That idiot and his stupid mercy and compassion, must've rubbed off on me sometime!'

She sighed in exasperation and pulled out her capsule case. She pressed the plunger on her first-aid dynocap and tossed it nearby, before picking up the first-aid kit that appeared therefrom.

'Now, Bulma, think about what you're doing.' Her brain told her. 'He could still kill you and destroy the planet. Hmmm, actually, he won't. So long as I have the dragon radar with me, I'm too important to him. I know! I'll keep it with me and I won't let him touch it. As long as I can keep him in the dark, the dragon radar will work as my insurance. Besides, this may be my only chance to wish the others back!'

With that the heiress had made up her mind.

She went over to him, unable to fight it anymore, as her conscience took over. This was a big gamble on her part and she only hoped that it paid off.

'Now, how to take off this piece of junk.' She constantly tried tugging at his armor, but it wouldn't budge. She kept trying until he eventually woke up to an abrupt start. She yelped and ungracefully fell on her rear, the moment she sensed movement on his part. He forced himself onto his knees and began taking rasped breaths. Bulma was whimpering as her mind kept flicking through gruesome scenarios involving her painful end at his hand. Vegeta looked at her, totally bemused, before scowling.

"What were you doing?!" He demanded.

"I… uh… I was… uh…"

"WHAT?!" He yelled, making Bulma cringe and clasp her ears.

"I was trying to take off your armor." She slurred.

"Why?!"

"Well… because… you're wounded…"

Now he was totally confused. Just what in the seven hells was she doing? Was she trying to kill him or something? It didn't seem that way. He narrowed his eyes at her, silently demanding an explanation.

"I…" Bulma looked at the first aid she'd left on the floor next to him. He followed her line of sight.

"What is this?!" He took the box and opened it. He closely scrutinized the medical and surgical equipment therein, before frowning at her. "What were you planning?! To experiment on me?!"

Oh, boy that totally struck a nerve! How dare that bastard?!

"What?!" She snarled. "How dare you?! I was trying to take your armor off, so I could get your wound fixed up!"

"And just why would you do that?!"

Bulma froze. That question totally had her stumped. Why would she have done that? Was it mercy, compassion, a chance to wish back her friends or perhaps all three? What could she tell him?

"I… Well…"

"Can't you give a straight answer for once?!"

"Hey, stop yelling at me!" She growled angrily. "I don't know where you come from, but here on Earth when someone's wounded, we help them out no matter who they are!"

Vegeta scoffed.

"Is that what you'll have me believe?" He asked in low, distrusting voice. "That you were helping me out?"

"Believe what you want to I don't care." Bulma frowned dangerously at him, "But if you don't want my help, you're more than welcome to stay here and bleed to death."

Vegeta glowered at her, but after a moment of heated glaring, he shook his head and asked the one question that had slipped his mind.

"What happened anyway?!"

Bulma explained how he'd collapsed and blacked out and that she'd wanted to get his armor off of him, in order to get him patched up.

"Well, I couldn't get the darn thing off, no matter what I tried." She recalled, "So if you could just take it off, we can get on with our business."

"Forget it!" Vegeta decided resolvedly and tried getting up, but was struggling badly.

"Look, if you don't want my assistance, I'll just leave you here to die all by yourself!" Bulma exclaimed, "I don't even know why I tried to help you in the first place!"

Vegeta winced as a new wave of pain washed over his back.

"Hey, are you okay?" Bulma headed over and sat near him, as her conscience took hold once again. Goddammit! Curse that Goku!

Vegeta scowled at the ground below him as if it were the source of all his problems.

"Fine, I'll do it!" He pulled his armor off with a degree of effort on his part and Bulma gasped as she saw his blue spandex shirt completely soaked in blood.

"Umm, could you take off your shirt too?" She drawled.

Vegeta grumbled curses under his breath. He felt like a total fool! He'd overestimated himself big time! The Earthlings had caused him far more damage than he'd ever have imagined! Now he was at the whim of some weak pathetic little female and she was right! It was either trust her or die! Goddammit! He couldn't die! He had to wreak vengeance upon Frieza, as was his birthright! With that in mind, he let out a sigh of indignation, before shedding off his upper garment.

Bulma was awed by his well-chiseled figure. Not even Goku had a frame quite as compact as his. She shook her head free of those disgusting thoughts. Fuck him! He was a bastard who deserved to burn in hell! Once again she sighed deeply, wondering why she was being so compassionate, to him of all people. Not only was he a heartless killer, but a total dick as well! She'd offered him help, despite all the detriment he'd brought to her life and he had the nerve to persistently throw it all back in her face! Her thoughts were averted, as she noticed the scars on his arms, chest and back. Those were some intense wounds if she ever saw any.

"Where'd you get those scars?" She asked curiously.

"From hell." He replied nonchalantly. Bulma frowned in intrigue, wondering what exactly he'd meant by that, but decided to drop the matter.

"Right." Bulma cleaned off the blood on the deep gash along his back, using a soft, moist towel, before pulling out a dry cloth and applying a good heap of antiseptic to it.

"This will sting a lot, okay?" Bulma forewarned.

Vegeta grunted in approval, prepping himself for what would come next. Bulma rubbed the cloth along the length of his cut a couple times over. It was only meant for minor cuts, but she had no other option, plus she figured he could take the pain and even if he couldn't so what? He deserved it anyway. He deserved worse, a lot worse.

Vegeta bit his lip to suppress a groan that threatened to escape, but for the most part, was able to maintain his composure well. The hydrogen peroxide solution did hurt, there was no denying that. However, compared to the abuse he oft suffered at the hands of Frieza, it was largely insignificant, as were the rest of the injuries he had suffered in battle, on this day.

Bulma was surprised by his resilience. Afterwards, she stitched up his wound using a needle and suture, before pulling out a gauze bandage roll. She wrapped it tightly around the deep cut, before taping it up. So caught up in the task was she that she'd momentarily forgotten just whose wounds she was ministering. Straight afterwards she pulled out a dynocap with another CC airbus in it.

Vegeta was still exhausted, but now that his laceration had been taken care of, he was no longer in danger of losing any more blood. Though his supply was somewhat depleted, it wasn't critically low and he knew that he could easily make it to Frieza's nearest base planet alive and then be healed up completely in a regeneration tank. His armor and shirt were a complete mess, so he decided to leave them as they were. He'd get a whole new set of training gear, once he left this mud-ball anyway.

Bulma realized that Vegeta had his mouth wide open and tongue slightly sticking out, as he breathed heavily. He was clearly dehydrated. She pulled out another capsule and tossed it on the ground.

'So she was telling the truth.' Vegeta thought, looking on in amazement, as he saw the refrigeration unit materialize from thin-air. 'She really can store anything in those capsules of hers. Maybe I shouldn't kill her. That would be a complete waste, especially if she has other tricks up her sleeve. But why did she help me though? It makes no sense.'

He'd never known anyone who treated enemies with kindness. Why had she? It was vexing him and a strong feeling of suspicion began engendering within.

Bulma opened the refrigerator and pulled out a glass bottle of lemon ice tea.

"Here, drink." She held the bottle out to him, with a scowl on her face, not looking him in the eye. She couldn't believe what she was doing! Helping him after all that he had done and why?! She was putting everything and everyone at risk, all for the sake of what exactly?! Quenching the stupid, irrational and unjustified guilt that kept plaguing her whenever she considered abandoning him to a dreadful, albeit well-deserved, fate?! Or was it something else? She had no clue exactly.

Then again, he was her only chance at reviving her friends. After all, Earth-engineered spacecraft barely allowed for travel beyond the solar system, let alone a planet that could've been located on the other side of the galaxy for all she knew. Moreover, if she could perhaps gain his trust, then maybe it would be easier to swindle him when the moment was right, so she could make her wish.

Vegeta looked at the bottle dubiously and then back to her.

Bulma groaned in frustration, opened the cap, sipped a mouthful and swallowed, before offering him the bottle, once again.

"It's not poisoned if that's what you were thinking!" She said, her voice clearly laced with aggravation. Why was he so distrustful for?! She'd saved his ass, when she should've just left him to rot! "If I wanted you dead, I would've left you here."

Vegeta reluctantly grabbed it and in about three seconds, chugged down all the contents in the 1.5-litre bottle, minus the sip Bulma drank. Within moments the cool, sweet beverage revitalized the Prince. He had to admit, he hadn't tasted a liquid quite so ambrosial since before he was given away. He swayed off those thoughts. No longer would he be a slave. He would be free, attain immortality, destroy his tormentor once and for all and reign as the supreme overlord of the Universe for all eternity! With that thought, he immediately stood to his feet and took a deep breath of relief. He felt a lot better now, but his mind kept wondering back to that one question: why on Earth had she helped him? There was absolutely no reason for her to have done that. His thoughts were cut short.

"We're taking the airbus." Bulma declared resolutely and pressed the plunger on the airbus capsule, throwing it a fair distance away before Vegeta could protest. She then grabbed his armor and shirt and went inside.

"What're you doing?" Asked the Saiyan, as he begrudgingly followed her in.

"Nothing, I told you I'm a scientist, so I might keep these, to study them later on." She'd recalled Vegeta taking off the armor and took note of its pliancy. Perhaps if she lived long enough, one day she might be able to find a way to recreate and perhaps upgrade it, for her friends.

"Whatever." He responded dismissively, before grumbling curses under his breath. She may have been right though; if he flew, his injuries could only get worse. He shouldn't have been so rash. He had to hold out until he made it to his intended location: Planet Frieza No. 79.


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