Patience | By : Pixelgoddess Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 13911 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own DragonballZ, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Patience
By Pixelgoddess
Summary –
Vegeta has had his eye on Goku for years, but isn’t willing to make the first
move. Will either of them bend?
This
started out life as a series of one-shots, with required sentences – first ‘Why
did you stop?’, then ‘I’ve been waiting a long time for this’ and ‘You wouldn’t
dare.’ Now look what has happened – it’s taken on a life of its own.
Pairings
– oh please – I almost never write anything but Goku and Vegeta. What do
you think?
Warnings
– This is me you are talking about – expect smut and angst, pretty much
in equal measure. With enough sap to thin it out. Goku/Vegeta. Sex. Kissing.
Smut. Yaoi. (Does everyone know what that means?) And now that the cat is out
of the bag – mpreg.
A
disclaimer too? *sighs* Would I worry about paying my bills if I owned them?
Hell, if I owned them, there would have been more naked Saiyans, more sex, Goku
would have saved Vegeta, and the prince would have been the one to pound the
lizard to a pulp.
Vegeta
watched in disbelief as Kakarott got dressed.
“What are
you doing?” he demanded.
Kakarott
stopped pulling on his heavy boots long enough to glance up. “Getting dressed?”
he said doubtfully.
“I can
see that,” Vegeta retorted. “Why are you wearing those clothes?” he
gestured at the weighted articles Kakarott had spread out on the bed.
“This is
what I always wear when I train.” Kakarott looked at him questioningly, “You’re
not going to try and keep me from training, are you?”
“I didn’t
say that. I just want to know why you are wearing those.”
“I told
you – I’m training.”
“Kakarott…you
shouldn’t be adding all that extra weight.” It wasn’t that he was worried about
the baby; it was safe no matter what stress Kakarott put on his system. His
mate was another matter.
The more
he learned about the Tuffles and the butchery they had done to Saiyan genes,
the more he hated them. It wasn’t enough for them to manipulate males, never
meant to carry children, into tasans. No, their work went on to ensure the
survival of the child even at the cost of the tasan’s life if necessary. No
wonder they were mated – it took someone strong they could depend on to always
be around to give them energy. And if something did happen to the tasan, the
body’s dwindling resources were funneled to the unborn child. The Tuffles
valued the malleable child over its parent, even taking the choice away from
the tasan’s mate. Records told of tasans near death being callously cut open to
remove the infant to be placed in an incubator tank. He didn’t want to think
about what the bastards might have done with those children.
Kakarott
ignored his objection and continued to get dressed.
“Damn it,
Kakarott. Listen to me! You’re carrying enough extra weight! You don’t need to
add more.” He groaned inwardly as he felt the spark of anger from his mate as
Kakarott glared at him in disbelief.
“This
isn’t fat, Vegeta,” Kakarott growled, obviously annoyed and more than a little
hurt. “It’s not like I can do anything about it – and if you had any objections
it’s too late to do anything about them now. So I weigh more. Deal with it!” He
jerked on his wristbands and stomped his feet into his boots.
Vegeta
moved to block him from leaving the bedroom. “Kakarott…” He tried to remind himself
that his mate’s bad mood was due to the unpredictability of this pregnancy, and
not due to anything Vegeta had done, but it was hard to keep his own temper
under control.
“Move,
Vegeta. I’m not in a good mood.”
“Damn it
– don’t be stupid. You know I didn’t mean it like that.” He had no objections
to Kakarott training – he was actually pleased he felt strong today. He was
even going to suggest it before walking in on him dressing and realized he was
going to put unnecessary stress on his body.
“And now
I’m stupid!? Move,” he growled, “before I move you.”
Vegeta
gave a resigned sigh and stepped aside. He didn’t want to fight with his mate –
he wanted to protect him. Why couldn’t Kakarott see that? Maybe he didn’t
express himself well, but with the mood Kakarott was in this morning he doubted
if he would have followed Vegeta’s advice no matter what he said. But damn it,
why did he insist on wearing all of those weights now? He was going to hurt
himself if he wasn’t careful.
If it had
been Bulma he would have argued with her until he made her see reason; it
wasn’t always possible, but it had been known to happen. At least she fought
back – loudly. He grinned momentarily at the memory. They had some spectacular
fights, shouting and raging at each other before making up just as loudly.
But
Kakarott was not Bulma and at times he found himself struggling to learn how to
adapt his techniques to a different partner.
He had
learned that fighting with Kakarott just made him more stubborn. Kakarott
didn’t like to fight the way she did – instead he growled his displeasure and
walked away. Vegeta knew he didn’t own him and didn’t think he acted like he
did. His mate was no child to be ordered about or scolded. He just wished
Kakarott would accept him as his mate; it would have make things so much
easier. Surely then, Kakarott would know he was just trying to take care
of him.
He wasn’t
even sure why he hadn’t pressed the matter. He didn’t feel especially patient;
just tired. He went through their dresser, verifying their supply of senzu,
just in case. He spotted a pair of Kakarott’s blue gi bottoms, and on impulse
took them out and tossed them onto the bed. After a few minutes he had
assembled a training outfit he felt was more appropriate for his mate in his condition.
He left the pants, a black tank top, and lightweight black shoes where Kakarott
would see them. His mate wouldn’t listen, but maybe he’d see this and realize
Vegeta wasn’t trying to keep him from exercising – he just wanted him to train
more safely.
That
done, he went outside to start his own training.
He
started his stretching and warm-up routine, keenly aware of Kakarott’s presence
and ki level as his mate began his own preparations. Out of the corner of his
eye he caught Kakarott looking at him before quickly turning away. Vegeta
scowled and began a simple kata to get himself under control.
He slid
effortlessly from one routine to the next, slowly raising his energy level,
forcing himself to remain in complete control of every erg, wasting no movement.
This is what he had worked towards for years; the rage and frustration at his
competition with Kakarott and the universe in general finally quieted. It had
taken too many years to learn this calm patience, but now that he knew its
power he refused to submit to those darker emotions and give it up.
He finished his form and stood in ritual formal position, enjoying
the gentle burn of muscles just starting to warm up. His enjoyment was tempered
by the awareness of Kakarott’s discomfort. He was stubbornly continuing to work
through a kata in his weighted uniform. He could feel the frustration and
beginnings of soreness coming from his mate and understood from experience how
much that emotion could sap his strength away.
He
noticed a slight misstep as Kakarott misjudged his stance, as well as his
annoyed intake of breath at the error. As he had anticipated, Kakarott was
having difficulty adjusting to the combined weights. Vegeta narrowed his eyes,
studying him as he moved through the kata. Kakarott was already struggling to
continue, sweating profusely and making minor errors. No one else would have
noticed, but after years of observation Vegeta was acutely aware of Kakarott’s
instinctive balance and grace in combat.
Vegeta walked to the shade of their cabin and drank from a
convenient bottle of water, leaning against the wall to watch as Kakarott
continued to train. He was pleased to note his mate’s ki remained strong
throughout the kata, the waves of energy flowing well. The only times his
energy varied was when he was thrown off, not quite anticipating the way his
body would move with the extra weight. He was becoming increasingly concerned
about Kakarott twisting an ankle or straining his back – not something that a
Saiyan would even notice under most circumstances, but something that would
make his mate uncomfortable while he healed.
Kakarott finished his kata, his wince at the final position
glaringly obvious. Vegeta bit back a remark along the lines of ‘I told you so’
and held out a bottle of water instead. Kakarott hesitated a moment, aware he
had been the object of scrutiny, before sighing and heading over to the shade.
“Nice weather,” Vegeta said conversationally. He could feel
Kakarott’s embarrassment and wasn’t in the mood to continue their fight.
Kakarott stared at him in disbelief. “What?”
“I said ‘nice weather’.”
“Oh, I heard you,” Kakarott scowled, leaning against the wall
beside him, “Why aren’t you giving me a hard time about training? I know you
were watching me.”
Vegeta shrugged, “Would it do any good? You’re not a child,
Kakarott. You can make your own decisions.” Even bad ones, he added to
himself.
Kakarott sighed, the frustration he felt obvious. “I can’t even do
things I like anymore. And it’s only six months… What’s going to happen to me?
If I can’t train I’ll go crazy.”
“You can still train.”
Kakarott laughed bitterly. “Sure. You saw me. I suck. I can’t even
do forms I could do as a child without making a mistake.”
“You should make allowances, Kakarott. The baby has changed your
balance. You just need to relearn it. You adjusted to the loss of your tail –
why should this be any different?”
“Yeah,” Kakarott slumped against the wall. “But this seems
harder.”
“That’s because your body is constantly changing.” Vegeta pushed
away from the wall and stretched, ready to continue his own training. “Go take
off those weights – then come out to train some more.”
Kakarott shook his head, a tiny smile actually reaching his eyes.
“You are so different from what I expected.”
“Contrary to what the Namek thinks, I am not a total
dickhead,” he smirked.
Kakarott laughed and headed into the cabin. “I’ll be right back,”
he called over his shoulder.
He returned several minutes later, clad in the clothing Vegeta had
chosen for him. Vegeta decided right then he preferred Kakarott like this. The
dark shirt contrasted with his pale skin and revealed more of his muscular arms
and chest.
“Better?” Kakarott asked.
“Much,” he purred.
--------------------------
Vegeta
woke with a mumbled growl, trying to decide what had disturbed his sleep. He
grimaced to himself as he realized he must have been more tired than he had
realized; Kakarott had managed to get out of bed and leave the room without
waking him.
He
stretched out on the bed, breathing in the odors of food cooking, and checked
his mate’s ki. Low – but that was normal for Kakarott as he approached the six
month mark. There were no longer any catastrophic drops in ki, but Dende had
expressed some concern over the fact that it remained disturbingly low;
according to records, most tasans had been able to maintain decent levels by
now. Trying to keep Kakarott’s ki at a reasonable level was an effort at times,
requiring constant monitoring by Vegeta as he tapped into his own considerable
resources to supply his mate with energy.
Vegeta
was surprised to realize it was nearly 10:00am; hours after his normal time to
get up. Last night had been more draining than usual as Kakarott battled with
nightmares that seemed to deplete them both. Granted, he had adjusted his
schedule to cope with Kakarott’s pregnancy, but even so, he rarely stayed in
bed this late - except for sex.
He
dragged himself out of bed, still feeling slightly drained. After pulling on a
pair of loose pants he padded out to the kitchen.
He shook
his head in amusement. Kakarott had set the table and was progressively filling
plates and serving dishes with an assortment of foods in quantities designed to
restore any Saiyan. This was Kakarott’s idea of breakfast – cold cuts, breads,
salad, eggs, bacon, fruit… After experiencing the Briefs typical family
breakfast – sweets, pancakes, waffles or cereal – his learning about the Son
version seemed to explain a lot about their seemingly endless energy levels.
“Oh good
– you’re awake,” Kakarott said, placing a plate with an overstuffed omelet on
the table in front of him.
“That’s
good timing,” he replied, sitting down and taking a bite.
Kakarott
grinned, “Not really. I’ve been making them, and then eating them, waiting for
you to get up.”
“So how
many have you had?”
“Just two
– I haven’t been up that long.”
“This is
excellent – any chance of seconds?”
“Already
cooking.”
Vegeta
nodded his approval and continued eating, polishing off the first plateful just
as Kakarott brought him the second. His mate turned to start yet another, but
Vegeta stopped him, “That’s enough – you aren’t some servant. If I want another
I’ll make it myself.”
Kakarott
tilted his head and smiled at him with a shrug, “I don’t mind, honest.”
“I know you don’t – but I do. Sit down and eat what’s here Kakarott – you’ve done
enough.”
Kakarott
decided to follow his suggestion – something of a surprise – and made himself a
sandwich. “You’re so forceful.”
Vegeta
rolled his eyes and growled his amusement at the idea of being able to force
Kakarott to do anything. “Eat. You need your strength.”
Their
meal was long and leisurely, Vegeta refusing to let Kakarott get up for
forgotten items. “We have robots for things like that,” he reminded his mate,
sending the machine off to fetch more milk from the refrigerator.
He
finally sat back with a contented sigh, surveying the remnants of their meal.
“I do prefer your breakfasts, Kakarott.”
“Do you
feel better now?” Kakarott asked, “You were looking kind of worn out.”
Vegeta
made a wry smile – he was fine; some food and rest and he was completely
recovered. Kakarott was the one who looked tired – eating had helped some, but
not enough. While Kakarott didn’t have nightmares every night, once the cycle
started the dreams returned every time he dozed off again, disrupting his sleep
for the rest of the night. Vegeta couldn’t imagine what could be causing his
mate to have so many nightmares – what kind of things could possibly be
troubling someone like Kakarott? He’d asked, but his mate either couldn’t or
wouldn’t tell him.
“Don’t
worry about me,” he said. “What do you have planned for today?”
Kakarott
looked troubled, “I was supposed to go see Piccolo, but I’m having trouble
reading ki today. He’s alright, isn’t he?”
This was
yet another frustration for Kakarott; when his ki was low he had trouble
sensing others. Considering how much difficulty his mate was finding with
things he had always taken for granted it was no surprise he found being
pregnant extremely difficult to cope with. Vegeta was positive if he were the
one who was pregnant his own reaction would have been anger. As a matter of
fact, there was a damn good chance he would have punched Kakarott in the face
for ‘doing this’ to him. There was no way in hell he would have been as calm
and accepting about this as Kakarott was.
“Yes – he
signaled me a few hours ago. He went into one of those rooms at the Lookout.”
Just as well, he mused – the Namek’s ki had been off somehow. Echoing? He was
probably trying some new split form technique; because for a time there he was
sure he sensed his own energy.
“Piccolo
signaled you?” Kakarott asked, surprised.
Vegeta
scowled – he hadn’t really meant to let Kakarott know he had made arrangements
with the Namek to be sure one of them was always available. “Yes.”
“And
without bloodshed,” Kakarott grinned at him, obviously recognizing how much
Vegeta disliked having to admit to any voluntary communication with Piccolo.
“Then I guess I’ll train here.”
Vegeta
made a resigned sigh. “Kakarott – I know you won’t listen to me….but can’t you
do something less strenuous? Take it easy? Rest? Just for one day.”
Kakarott
laughed, “You sound like I used to.”
“Now I
know how you felt.” In prior years, Kakarott would visit him at the gravity
room, and try to convince him he was working too hard and should take a break,
usually with little success.
“Well,”
he said, considering, “I did kind of want to watch some of those food shows.”
“So do
that today – you can train again tomorrow if you feel up to it.”
“Okay,”
Kakarott said, getting up and heading out of the kitchen. “I’ll start resting
now.”
“What?”
Vegeta sputtered, looking at the dishes still covering the table and the
counter.
Kakarott
popped his head back around the corner and grinned, “Make sure you cover the
leftovers before putting them in the fridge.”
“Sneaky
bastard,” he muttered as he cleared the food off the table before calling the
robots to clean up the rest of the kitchen.
------------------------------------
Vegeta
stepped out of the shower and flared his ki a moment to dry himself. He’d
managed to get a few hours of training in before going in to make sure his mate
was resting as promised. He got dressed and went to find him.
Kakarott
was sprawled out on the couch, laptop and pad within reach, recipes scattered
around him. His mate looked so involved in what he was doing – scribbling notes
on a recipe printout – that he probably hadn’t realized the room had started to
get chilly. Vegeta picked up a convenient blanket and placed it over Kakarott’s
legs.
Kakarott
blinked up at him in surprise; he hadn’t noticed Vegeta enter the room.
“Oh!
Vegeta. Hi,” he smiled, gathering up some of the papers to make room on the
couch. “I’ve got some new recipes to try.”
Vegeta
picked up the notebook, and on flipping it open hesitated when he realized it
was Kakarott’s precious cookbook. Kakarott must have noticed him pause.
“It’s
okay. You’re not a clumsy robot.”
Vegeta grinned
and turned the pages carefully. One of the cleaning robots had nearly spilled
something on the book; only quick intervention had rescued it. That had been
one of the few times he had seen Kakarott lose his temper; there had been a
moment when he thought they were going to have to replace a destroyed robot.
He could
understand his mate’s reaction – this book was irreplaceable. Each page had
been carefully handwritten by Chichi, obviously done as she was teaching him
how to cook. Kakarott had written his own notes on each recipe with reminders
and special touches.
“You’re
very lucky, Kakarott,” he said with a twinge of jealousy; he hadn’t had that
kind of time with Bulma.
“I know,”
Kakarott said softly. “I’m so glad she spent the time to teach me. That’s how I
got you.”
Vegeta
chuckled. “Fed me so well I couldn’t escape.”
Kakarott
grinned at him, “Maybe that was the plan the whole time.”
“Curses –
I’ve fallen victim to your evil plot.”
Kakarott
guffawed, “You’ve been watching too much TV.”
“So what
are these dates?” he asked, pointing to Kakarott’s writing on the back of the
pages. Some of the dates had notes or cartoon smiles next to them.
“That’s
when I made them – Chichi said it wasn’t good to repeat meals too often. They
get boring if you have them all the time.”
Vegeta
smiled to himself at how Kakarott still followed his wife’s harmless obsession.
“Do you really like to cook?”
“Yeah – I
really do. I didn’t think I would at first, but Chichi insisted I be able to
take care of myself. She made me keep at it so I started thinking of it as
training. After awhile I started to enjoy it. It’s kind of like science and art
combined…you don’t just follow the recipe, you modify it and tweak it and make
it your own.”
Kakarott
put aside his collection of papers and leaned against him, wrapped in the
blanket. Vegeta put an arm around his mate, drawing him closer. Kakarott sighed
contentedly and made commentary about the different dishes as Vegeta turned the
page. He spotted a recipe that seemed familiar, and on turning the page to
confirm it, burst out laughing. It was the dessert that had won him over, and
next to a date – almost a year ago – was a line of hearts and smiley faces.
“Hey,”
Kakarott protested, embarrassed.
Vegeta
chuckled at his reaction. “It’s missing something, though,” he said, reaching
for a pencil. He hesitated over the page for a moment, just in case Kakarott
objected. He felt no concern from his mate, so he added a few quick flourishes
next to the faces. “There – the symbol of the Royal House of Vegeta – proof of
my approval.”
---------------------
Vegeta
settled down at the end of the couch, book in hand. Kakarott was flipping
through a pile of mail delivered by a boy from the nearby village.
“Anything
interesting?” Vegeta asked.
“New
magazines,” Kakarott replied, sorting the items into piles, “Not much else unless
you consider bills interesting.” He looked at the size of the stack of bills
and frowned. “I guess I haven’t gone to the village in awhile. Kind of lost track.”
“It looks
that way,” he said, picking up the pile and flipping through it. “Kakarott… this
is a phone bill. They’re going to turn off the service.”
“Are
they?” Kakarott said distractedly. “It doesn’t matter. No one calls anyway.”
“The
electric is next,” he said with some concern. This wasn’t like Kakarott. The
boy who brought the mail up had said he hadn’t been down to the village for
months; his grandmother – obviously the local busybody – had insisted the boy
come up the mountain to check on Kakarott. The kid had been bold, he’d give him
that, coming right out and asking Vegeta if he and Kakarott were boyfriends.
Vegeta had chuckled at the idea at first before shrugging and agreeing - why
not? Like most human words it was inadequate but was probably all the boy could
comprehend.
It
bothered him to realize he hadn’t noticed this major change in Kakarott’s
habits. His mate used to go to the village every week or so for special food
items or just to visit. He spent much of the time chatting with random people
and even signing the occasional autograph. Vegeta had been surprised to learn
Kakarott was something of a celebrity there, recognized for his Budokai
appearances. No one ever commented on the fact he appeared much as he did years
ago, simply accepting this as just one more unique feature of their hero.
“I’ve
been giving you enough to cover all of this, haven’t I?” He’d long since
arranged for regular deliveries of groceries – food shopping was not on his preferred
list of things to do. He hadn’t intended to leave all of this up to Kakarott –
he just seemed to want to continue handling the household finances.
Kakarott nodded,
“Oh yeah – way more than enough. I just forgot.”
“Do you
like to do this kind of thing?” Vegeta asked curiously, indicating the stack of
bills. Even if he’d had the opportunity to rule he wouldn’t have dealt with day-to-day
items like this and it still amazed him that anyone would do so voluntarily or
without compensation. As far as he was concerned, time was better spent other
ways.
“Paying
bills? No. Who does? It’s just something that has to be done.” He sighed. “I guess
I’ll have to take care of this tomorrow,” he said without enthusiasm.
“No –
tomorrow we’re going to take all of this to my business manager. There’s no
sense in either one of us dealing with these petty matters if we don’t want to
or have to. We’ll let him to handle this.” He should have suggested this
earlier; there was no reason either one of them should waste their time on such
mundane issues. He had hired someone to deal with his own finances years ago.
“Vegeta…
I can’t afford that.”
“We can,” he said, flipping through the rest of the pile. He could sense Kakarott’s
hesitation. “You seem to forget I am Bulma’s heir and she was one of the
wealthiest people on this planet. I have more money than I could possibly
spend. We have more money,” he corrected. “You don’t think I sit and pay
bills every month, do you? You don’t have to either. There’s no sense in you
spending all this time dealing with tasks like this.”
“I
couldn’t take your money…”
“Kakarott
– you are my chosen mate.” He made a mental note to take care of whatever legal
procedures were required on this planet to be sure his mate and child’s rights
would be protected if something ever happened to him. He’d have to teach him
how to analyze the quarterly activity reports as well. “The money is ours.
We could spend absurd amounts every single day and not make a dent. Is there
anything you want? A bigger house? A fleet of cars? A driver? Jewelry? Gadgets?
Something else?” He grinned at a ridiculous thought. “How about a life-size
statue of the dragon for the front yard? Or maybe a stadium named after you? Hell,
Kakarott - you could have it all. Just name it.”
His mate
looked dubious, obviously confused at such a new idea.
“You’re
serious.”
“Completely.”
“You’re
sure? I’d be really happy not to have to deal with bills, but won’t he mind the
extra work?”
Vegeta
chuckled, “He’s paid not to mind. We should have taken care of this months ago.”
He laid a suggestive hand on his mate’s leg, “This way you’ll have time for
more important things.”
Kakarott grinned
and picked up a magazine, “Like reading?”
Vegeta smirked
– he knew a tease when he heard it. “For now.”
He settled back with his book, pleased he had managed to convince
Kakarott to agree. He opened up his mystery, chuckling now and then at the
difficulty the killers were having with disposing of the body. He doubted
Saiyans would have written stories like this – when they killed someone there
was no body left. Humans were so entertainingly squeamish about coping with
corpses.
“Hey,” Kakarott said, “That’s me.”
Vegeta moved over to look at the picture. Kakarott was in an
arena, facing down his three-eyed friend, Tien.
“You were young then.”
“Yeah…that was my second tournament.”
“You won of course.”
Kakarott laughed, “Nope. But it was really close. I didn’t even
know how to fly then. I learned that from Tien.”
Vegeta shook his head, bemused. He couldn’t imagine not knowing
how to fly – on Vegetasei anyone with a decent level of ki could. And Kakarott
losing to a human? It didn’t seem possible.
“Oh,” Kakarott said softly, turning a page to reveal more pictures
that included him and many of his friends. He gazed at the page for a long
silent moment before closing the magazine and putting it aside.
Vegeta frowned and picked it up, trying to understand the cause of
his mate’s sudden distress. There were quite a few pictures of Kakarott and his
friends covering many years of competition. He skimmed over the article and was
surprised to learn this was the 50th – hence the coverage of prior tournaments
for this anniversary Budokai.
Vegeta continued to read the article, ignoring the many references
to the foolish Mr. Satan. He smiled to himself on finding photos of his son
sparring with Kakarott’s youngest. That had been a bad year for him, culminating
in the disastrous Buu fiasco – he was glad Trunks displayed so much Saiyan
spirit in spite of how little Vegeta had been involved in his upbringing up until
then. At least he had finally realized what a fool he had been and had done his
best to correct that mistake in the years that followed. When Trunks had died
they had been comfortable with each other at last and Vegeta didn’t regret the
difficult effort he’d made to change.
He flipped to the next page and chuckled. There was a picture of
Piccolo and a young Kakarott exchanging blows. He imagined the Namek found the
battle more difficult than he expected – he knew Kakarott had won this
contest.
“Did you fight against all of your friends?” he teased.
“It sure seemed that way. Piccolo was the only one who seemed
determined to kill me though – well except for you.”
“At least I didn’t succeed,” Vegeta agreed. If he had,
where would he be now? Assuming he survived, he was positive he wouldn’t have
had his family – something he had come to value.
“Heh…yeah. Piccolo seemed to calm down a lot after that. And
becoming friends with Gohan really changed him. If not for him, I’m not sure if
Piccolo would have become good – he struggled with it a lot more than you ever
did.”
“You’re kidding, right?” For years he had battled with himself
daily to keep from destroying anyone or anything that had annoyed him. He found
it difficult to believe the usually stoic Namek had the same impulses or urges.
“No, I’m not. He respected other fighters, but he wasn’t really
nice to anyone but Gohan until after he fused with Nail and later on, Kami.”
Vegeta grimaced – respect was something Piccolo had earned long
before he had. Even when he tried to change it was hard when so many were
convinced he would fail. Come to think of it, the Namek was one of the first to
show him any kind of respect even if they did verbally snipe at each other
constantly. Bulma’s acceptance of him and her willingness to give him time to
change was what had helped him most. He was also helped by Kakarott’s easy
friendship, which had taken him forever to accept and even longer to appreciate.
“The tournament is in a few weeks…do you want to go?” Vegeta
asked. “We can get front row tickets.” He didn’t really want to participate – and
Kakarott couldn’t in his condition. If Kakarott wasn’t an opponent there was no
challenge – humans were much too easy to defeat.
“No,” Kakarott shook his head, “I don’t know anyone there
anymore.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Vegeta said. Didn’t Kakarott have
friends around the world? He had in the past; surely he hadn’t become such a
recluse his friends would forget him?
Kakarott glanced over at him, shaking his head, before moving to
get up. Vegeta reacted without consciously thinking – all he knew was something
had caused his mate distress and he wanted to know what – catching his arm and
pulling him back down.
“What?” Kakarott asked, confused at the impulsive move.
He looked at his mate in helpless frustration, wishing he could
read Kakarott’s mind. He swallowed, trying to push down the growing annoyance
at Kakarott’s hesitance to confide in him. His mate was too good at hiding
things behind seemingly innocent eyes.
“Kakarott…” he began, trying to find the right words. Actually
talking about anything was so damn difficult to start with, but he had become
aware of a growing need to understand more about his mate. He nearly sighed – maybe
there were no right words.
“I know we are both lousy at talking about things, but I can’t
help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” Vegeta had grudgingly admitted how
much being mated had changed him. He had known it would, but never realized the
extent of the impact of having Kakarott in his head.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he mumbled.
“That’s a lie and we both know it,” he said slightly annoyed that
his mate continued to hide problems from him. He had a disturbing thought that
would go a long way towards explaining Kakarott’s hesitance. “Have you changed
your mind? You don’t want to be my mate and you’re afraid to tell me? Is that it?”
“No!” Kakarott protested, staring at him wide-eyed shock. He
spoke quickly, panic evident in his voice. “I do want to be your mate, honest.
Even without the baby. I do. You’ve got to believe me.”
“I’m worried about you. You aren’t yourself… You’ve changed and I
can’t help but think I’m somehow responsible. You rarely leave the house except
to train. You hardly ever smile anymore. You get upset or depressed all the
time. You don’t visit your friends.”
“That’s because they’re all dead!” Kakarott exclaimed.
Vegeta looked at him, surprised at the sudden explosion of grief
he felt from his mate. “That’s not true,” he said gently. “What about that boy
from the village? Or his grandmother? They invited us to their house for dinner
sometime…aren’t they your friends?”
“It’s not the same,” Kakarott said quietly. “I can’t feel them at
all anymore… This used to be so much easier. How do other people do it? Now I
don’t know if they’re friends. How can I tell?”
Vegeta didn’t respond; he didn’t know how to. He wasn’t even sure
if he could or should. Kakarott was trying to tell him what was wrong and he
was afraid to interrupt him and stop the somewhat jumbled flow of information.
“I can’t feel anyone now – they might as well be dead. Maybe they
are. How would I even know? Suno died a few months ago and I didn’t even
realize it. I don’t even know if it is better or worse knowing. I mean, I felt
so bad not being there. I went to visit her and she was already gone.
“It didn’t used to be like this… Maybe it’s better that I don’t
know. Hasn’t there been enough death in my life? I don’t want more. I don’t
think I can deal with it.”
Vegeta watched him, feeling Kakarott’s grief and confusion flowing
through him. He had wanted to know what was wrong, but the torrent of words
just increased the pain flooding from his mate. He almost wished he’d stop if only
that would make Kakarott feel less miserable.
“I felt them all die,” Kakarott whispered. “All of them… Every
time. Gohan. Chichi. Goten. Krillin. Yamcha. B-“ He interrupted himself to take
a gulping breath of air. “All of my oldest friends – people I really cared
about – the ones I knew best growing up – are dead. And I felt them all die. I
knew the exact instant when they were gone and how they felt. Yamcha’s fear…
Krillin’s anger… Some were quick but others suffered – and I knew. I was so
glad Chichi died in her sleep… But I still knew the instant when her heart
finally stopped. I had been so close to them and they’re all gone. All I have
left is you and Piccolo. I don’t know if I want more friends. How many times do
I have to go through that? Maybe not being able to feel people is a good
thing…”
A part of Vegeta seemed to be sinking; was he hearing this right?
Not being able to feel him was a good thing? “I didn’t know you had that
ability.” he finally said, not sure what else to say.
Kakarott hung his head. “I didn’t used to… and I can’t really feel
every single person. But the ones I can…it’s all the people I’m closest to. All
my oldest friends and family. They were such a huge part of my life. And now
they’re all gone. And I miss them all so much.”
“Kakarott… I know how it feels to lose someone so important to
you… I was close to Bulma and Trunks; I knew when they died, so to an extent I
understand what you went through. But you know death isn’t the terrible thing
humans think it is. After all, you’ve been dead yourself. And they were good
people; I’m sure they all went to Otherworld or their spirit has come back in a
different body.”
“I know that… but…” Kakarott took a deep breath and Vegeta could
hear the bitten cry as he fought to control himself. “They’re not here with me. They’re… Everyone’s gone. All of them: Chichi, Krillin, Yamcha… even
my sons… they’re all gone. And I’m still here. Every time one of them died it
hurt all over again. And I keep dreaming about the last time – the last time I
felt them – the last time I held them… and I… I miss them. Sometimes it’s
almost like they’re haunting me.”
“Why would your friends be haunting you?” At least, he mused, none
of Kakarott’s friends or relatives were likely to end up in Hell; perhaps then
he could understand his distress. Personally, he’d have given a lot to be able
to haunt Frieza.
“They don’t always…sometimes the dreams are nice… happy. Most of
the time I have good dreams… But that just makes the bad ones worse. I’ll be
having a good dream and then something will change…and they die. And I can’t do
anything to save them. And once the nightmares start--”
“They don’t stop,” Vegeta finished, understanding this pain. He
still missed Bulma and his family – but at a complete loss how to help his
mate.. Over the years he’d just learned to live with the loss – to lock the
pain away so it stopped eating at him every day. He thought Kakarott had done
that long ago – he’d lost so many more people than Vegeta who were close to
him. He’d wanted to know what Kakarott’s nightmares were, but now that he knew
he wasn’t sure what to do.
Kakarott shook his head miserably. “Sometimes it’s just one person
dying over and over and over…other times it’s everyone…one after another all
night long and they just keep dying and dying and dying.”
“You didn’t used to have these nightmares, did you? I don’t
remember you having this problem when we first started sleeping together.”
“No, not really. I’d have them sometimes, but it never was as bad
as it is now,” Kakarott said sadly. “I dreamed about Gohan a lot after he died
– but it was nothing like this. It’s like I’m reliving everyone’s deaths over
and over again. I don’t understand why they are getting worse. What’s wrong
with me?”
Vegeta reached over and brushed fingertips over his mate’s cheek,
intensely aware of Kakarott’s distress, but recognizing there was little he
could do to stop the torment of nightmares. “I’m sorry… I don’t know how to
make them stop,” he said apologetically.
“It doesn’t help that I feel like so many of their deaths were my
fault… I should have done something. I should have been there. I should have--”
Kakarott took a long shuddering breath. “I’m sorry. I know I should be
stronger. It’s just – I feel so useless lately. Completely helpless. I know I
haven’t always been like this but I’m just so out of control now. I can’t stop
myself.”
“Kakarott – you said yourself you haven’t always had nightmares
like this. I wouldn’t be surprised if it has something to do with your
pregnancy. After the baby is born you will be back to normal. There’s no reason
for you to apologize.”
“But if this pregnancy is so difficult – how am I going to want to
get pregnant again?”
Vegeta looked at him in surprise. This baby was a totally
unplanned accident, and while he had imagined early on there might be more
children later, as Kakarott struggled more and more he had come to accept this
would be their only child. Kakarott’s words sunk in and he realized there might
be more someday, he made a wry smile. “Why don’t we get through this one before
making that decision?”
Kakarott made a small smile and brushed his knuckles over Vegeta’s
cheek, “What would I do without you?”
“Well for one thing, you wouldn’t be pregnant,” he smirked.
Kakarott made a tiny laugh and allowed himself be wrapped in his
arms. “I don’t really mind. I just wish everything made more sense, you know.
Why does it have to be such a struggle?”
“Hmmm,” he agreed. “I don’t know what to do about your dreams – I
wish I did.”
“I don’t think there is anything you can do. At least I wasn’t
conscious during Buu so I haven’t felt you die for a long, long time. I can’t
imagine life without you anymore. I don’t know what I’d do if I started
dreaming about you dying too.”
-------------------------------
Vegeta
woke to the sound of Kakarott’s anguished cries yet again. At least he finally
knew the cause – but he didn’t know how to make things any easier for his mate.
“Kakarott,”
he said softly, “Wake up – it’s just a dream.” His words had no effect;
Kakarott continued to make soft sounds of distress.
“Vegeta…”
He let
out a sigh of relief. “It’s alright, Kakarott.”
“No.
Whatever it is – I’m sorry.”
Vegeta
frowned at the misery in his voice. It was evident his mate was still dreaming.
“Please.
Please – don’t do this.”
He shook
Kakarott roughly. “Wake up, damn it.” The pain – the fear his mate felt was
pouring through him, the feelings too strong for him to ignore.
“Please Vegeta…
tell me what I did wrong. I promise I’ll never do it again.”
Kakarott
was weeping now – something so rare that he paused for a moment in his attempts
to wake him, staring at his mate in horrified astonishment. “Kakarott – what’s
wrong? Wake up. It’s not real.”
“Don’t
leave me like this!”
“I can
never--” Vegeta protested, even though he knew Kakarott couldn’t hear him.
“No. No.
Stop it! Vegeta!”
He felt
panicked as Kakarott’s ki began to drain away, leaving little behind besides
the store the baby refused to relinquish.
“No! Vegeta!”
Kakarott wailed, his ki plummeting in an instant as he died.
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