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Much Like Suffocating

Card

WARNINGS AND DISCLAIMERS:

A.      
If I owned the show (DBZ), dontcha think you’d be watching the smut instead
of just reading it? (Insert standard
disclaimer here: I don’t own Vegeta,
Goku, (any other characters mentioned herein) or the show they came from DBZ
DBGT or just plain DB.)

B.      
ALL RIGHTY. *rubs hands
together and looks up terms for the list of warnings: * Sadly, this is AU, but folks, don’t run away
already screaming. You can read
it. I swear It’ll be chocked full of
lemony goodness. LEMONS (Not talking
about the fruit here, either. I’m
talking about the sex ones; although how did it come to be a ‘lemon’
anyway?) Homosexuality (er…duh.) Also (warnings I’ve never used before!
Gasp): bondage, shady professions, and
graphic descriptions. (Hopefully
graphic anywho.) Also, dirty language
doubtlessly. DARK. BAD THINGS HAPPEN HERE FOLKS.

C.      
As always I strive to keep folk in character even when they are not
‘themselves’ in the canon-sense. If
you’re reading this and you’re like they are so not in character, give it a
chappie or two and see if you still think that.

I tried very hard not to write this. I batted it down and tried to starve the
bunny (the plot bunny) until it went away.
And you see how far that got me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~****

Krillin
made his mind go blank. Set up
barricades everywhere inside his own head, just to keep the thoughts out. The panic and hate and blindness. The spiders’ normally cold, collect thoughts
had broken down into disjointed sporadic commands to grab Gohan and suck him dry
of blood. The managed to keep them as
just thoughts—thoughts that froze the landscape of his mind and made him shiver
and ache. Gohan was alive with hate and
disgust, and every time he thought of Trunks his mind burst along that edge of
panic that made him unreasonable and intolerable—mentally, so to speak.

Then
there was the cat, that was jittering all the way to her mind. Flicking her tail and her ears and jerking
every muscle in her body. Her mind was
cluttered with facts and thoughts and she was trying to trace the source of the
disturbance, trying to figure out what sort of being could make technology that
‘lingered and ticked’ and projected thoughts into theirs.

And,
Oh Gods forgive him, he could not get those thoughts to leave.

(Kakarot
is pretty after all.)

It
was the fucking ship. s"> It was thinking. Whatever hid in that control room was
thinking, and it was doing it loud enough and precisely enough that everyone on
board could pick up the thoughts. He
could not stop them. Blanked his mind
out entirely, except that deafening thought.

(Hold
him down. Watch him cry. Let him bleed.)

It
was impossible to black out, impossible to withstand. He felt himself slipping, could visually see the others slipping
as well, break down into the basest forms of themselves. Anger.
Pain. Revenge. All of them felt it. Because the Spider was right, they had all
been saved from persecution of some form.
The cat, Bulma, was saved from a young Prince Vegeta himself when he
ordered the death of her and her family.
Bardock slipped in with a ‘but they are so compatible with our own race,
and shouldn’t we preserve them?’ Gohan
was saved from the hate and jeers of both his races. Taken under the wing of Bardock as his father went out and did
his dirty work. The spider was outcast
from her people—only for a set number of years—and had sought the comfort of
the Saiyan planet. Bardock had
instantly taken her in, introduced her to Krillin and encouraged the two of
them to bond.

And
now they returned to that. Rage. Revenge.

He
reached out, touched the Prince’s mind, felt Vegeta react to it, mentally
‘turn’ and look at him. Foggy,
disconnected recognition that he was being ‘spoken’ to. And Krillin concentrated on forming the
mental words. “I’m putting them to
sleep. I can’t stand it.”

There
was a mental shrug. And Krillin released
the Prince, turned to the two he was speaking of. Reached out with his mental hands again, wrapped his long,
spindly mental fingers around their minds and massaged them, squeezed all the
precious pressure points until they caved in, and blackness swarmed over their
minds. They fell to the ground like
lifeless dolls—a horrible power to have—and Krillin felt blood slip out of his
nose, down to his lip.

Fell
back to his knees and panted. an>Fan>Fought
the nausea that rose in him, and the tears that came to his eyes. He could never go home—he knew it—by the
time he finished here, by the time he righted the wrong he helped to create, he
could never go home. The Gods would not
forgive.

Trunks
returned to the room. Goku and Vegeta
behind him. “Hn. It’ll be easier to carry them that
way.”

“You
alright, Krillin?” Goku asked. Helped
him back to his feet, picked him up and held him in his arms. Knew before Krillin could even try to choke
out the words that he wasn’t okay. He was tired—too tired—and he couldn’t fight
the waves of thoughts that flowed over the ship with the tiny tremors.

(Hold
him down. Let him bleed.)

Trunks
grabbed Bulma by her arm, carried her across the room and handed her to
Chichi. Explained where they were
going, but he spoke in their own language—the words of the spider that nothing
without that blood in their veins could understand. And Krillin felt warmth spreading over him from the blistering
headache in his mind.

(Watch
him cry.)

The
room grew cold, he turned his head, looked through slitted eyes, watched Trunks
pick up Gohan, watched his eyes go pure black—they blinked out all the blue and
white, until they were demon’s eyes that glittered and shone in the frigid
cold—he rose his free hand, spun webs around them all, and the world went pitch
black as it froze over, and in one last tremor, distantly like an echo, Krillin
heard the thought again.

(Cry. Bleed.
Pretty, isn’t he?)

~~~***

Trundropdropped them all. Knew that he had, and
didn’t feel bad about it. Touched down
to the ground and let the kid fall to the ground like a bloody, lifeless sack
of potatoes. The other spider
lady—Chichi—touched down gingerly, gave him a severe look that told him that he
was an idiot that could not even teleport correctly if he felt he should drop
all of them.

But
she was blind. He bli his his eyes,
felt them change back to normal—ah, there were many hidden parts of him—and he
picked the idiot kid back up. Dragged
him across the surface of the planet to the cave-like home he lived in. Trusted the rest of them to follow or stay
outside and die. He didn’t give a damn
as long as the Prince made it alive.

When
he dropped the kid this time, it was in the water. A pool of water that was a part of the original cave he had
created his home out of. It was frigid
water—all the time—but it was clear and it wasn’t poisoned. Han>Hard to bathe with, but fine to drink. The kiheadhead floated there for a few seconds, and he jerked back awake,
scrambled and shoved himself out of the water.
Shook and shuddered, and the laceration on his forehead bled all over
again.

Trunks
laughed at him. Put his hand on the
wall, lifted himself up and said: “You’re going to want to take care of that
bleeder.” Used his hands to pull
himself across the wall to his bed.
Fuck his fellow Saiyan’s need to sleep in nest-like things in the
ground. Spiders had the right idea with
suspending their rooms from the ceiling.
Less things got to you that way.
It was safer. He curled into the
web, pulled the warm blankets over his frigid skin.

Teleporting
was not an easy task. Teleporting four
Saiyans and a Juro was even less of an easy task—especially when you crossed
the distance that he had, and had to outrun the explosion of a ship in the
process. He looked at Chichi—yawned
deeply—“That corner there is good.”
Pointed at the other corner he had originally carved out to be his
bed. She ignored the fact that he had
pointed the direction and stood very still—in annoyance. So he clicked his teeth and chattered out
the location, she smiled—bitch thought he should embrace the second half of his
heritage—and crawled over to that corner.
Curled her body up in a little ball as she set to weaving her web.

“Well
that works for you,” Gohan snapped, “What about everyone else?” He had ripped a part of his shirt and was
holding it to his hespanspan style="mso-spacerun: yes">

“The
floor for you,” Trunks said, “The Prince can take the second level. I originally made it,” he yawned, “For
someone else.” Didn’t elaborate—didn’t
have to because it was his fucking home and his fucking power that savesaved
the ungrateful pain in the ass in the first place. He was fucking exhausted and he was going to fucking sleep now.

~~~***

“Drop
it,” Goku said. Laid Krillin on a
blanket on the floor, and then set Bulma down next to him. Rearranged the sheet so she was covered up
properly again. Then he turned to the
Pe, se, saw that itching was driving him to distraction now, because he was
clawing at his own arm—not even realizing it—and his hand still hovered there
around his mouth. So he gave Gohan one
last look. “I mean it,” he said, “Leave
him alone for now. Get some sleep.”

Then
he gave the Prince a push toward the stairs—got glared at in response—and
followed his royal pain up the stairs.
And it was a pretty elaborate set up here. Nice and plush. Warmer
and ho and and infinitely more Saiyan up here than it was down stairs. This was a beautiful room, really. Fur covered and there was a huge nest in the
corner—comprised of skins and pillows—it looked like you could sleep in it
forever. But there was no indication at
all what exactly, this room might be or who’s.

And
Vegeta turned to look at him, curled his hands into fists and said: “I don’t
want this.”

Nobody
did. Nobody wanted freedom that burned
the way his did. Nobody wanted to fight
against the urge, nobody wanted to have to claw their way back to their own
life. He sure the hell hadn’t wanted to
do it. He didn’t want to do it right
now. But that was what there was.

mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt'>Gk: Trunks,
you are really cool.

Bulma: Whose
room is that upstairs?

Vegeta: Oh,
are you thick in the head or something?

Bulma: Well, not
all of us can be Prince’s.

Trunks, Vegeta and Krillin: *Raise an eyebrow*

Chichi: Some
of us must be Princesses.

Gk: Hey, I just
realized that only me, Bulma and Gohan aren’t royalty!~

Vegeta:
Hn. I’m glad you finally
realized this.

Jaygoose:

Sheesh. Have I ever written a ficcie without **MINI
SPOILER*** Goten? Come one. Name just one. *Jaygoose helpfully points out Never Before * *Card ignores her *

Setharo07: Except, most people think he’s a monster and a murderer. So…
I guthatthat is a bit of an ego boost if you want to strike fear into
the hearts of evil everywhere.

Glad
I could help with the descriptions.

Noel:

Ah. I don’t like Gohan. (I have said this many times.) never have;
but I love Goten. Seems weird that I
don’t like the first one but I do like the second. *ponders this briefly *
Anyway. They’re on that
shit-ball planet now. With more internal
struggling. Yeah!

Macha:

Ah. Yes, what is in that engine room? That is a mystery that might (one day) be
solved.Yes. Let us let Bardock be
overconfident.

And…*pushes
Goku toward Vegeta as he clutches the lube and blinks innocently * Go for it BUDDY!

Mechanical Butterfly:

Yeah. Poor Bulma.
Being around Trunks really makes her nervous. And Trunks seems pretty straight forward and dead-set on his
goal. Poor kid. *pats Trunks *

Actually,
yes, the ship did blow up. So, Gohan
was *shudders as she is forced to admit this * Right. And I agree with you about poor Vegeta. He is struggling awfully hard just to maintain himself, and then
he has to be some sort of ‘authority’ because nobody else is even capable of
taking charge. (Except, Trunks,
obviously, but nobody trusts him.)

*ponders
whether not him and Louis should be gay. *
*Pictures Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise being gay * Hmmm… Hmm… Thn>That is a tough question.

I
thought FF7 did have a better plot line than 8, but I saw and played 8 first
and (like I said) am just stuck on Laguna and Squall (not together, tho.) And actually, I wrote fanfiction about them
first. (Well not first, I wrote Card
Captor Sakura smut first, I think.) But
I actually got kicked off ff.net for putting up a ‘requests’ page. I wrote lemons for folks inside the
universes that I knew about. (Weiss
Kruez, Card Captor, FF8 and…*thinks for amoment * That might have been it.)
Then I wrote real stories. Had
two really popular ones. (Lost those
when my computer died.) So…yeah, if not
for Squall being so pretty (and pouty) I probably would not be writing this
today. I played part of Kingdom
Hearts. (Angel did Sq…er Leon’s
voice. Very weird.)

Kodachi:

Aw,
thanks. I’m really happy to hear I don’t
stereotype my characters. That’s a huge
compliment to me. Thanks so much.