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Resolution on a Lonely Planet	By : Ulrike Category: Dragon Ball Z > General Views: 5386 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z or the DBZ characters. This is a fanfiction written purely for entertainment. No money was made from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
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The rain was freezing as it pelted the icy forest ground. Tien’s three eyes darted from the sobbing man at his feet to the tormented woman in the woods. The strong warrior was never good around such misery, as he had not always been the most kind-hearted person throughout his years. Having lost complete control over his anguish in his battle against Nappa when Chaotzu had died, the stoic fighter empathized with Yamcha and Bulma’s grief, but he could not fathom the true depths of their despair without knowing everything that had happened.
He reached a large hand down to support his broken ally, but Yamcha suddenly rushed to his feet. Sniffling and hacking with choked sobs, the scar-faced fighter kept his eyes lowered as his red energy burst around him.
“No more,” he rasped. “I’m putting a stop to his torment.”
Tien jerked in surprise as the defeated man launched himself into the air, his speed barely bothering the skeletal trees that hovered around them. Tien gathered his energy to follow the pained man, but Krillin called to him from within the woods.
“Let him go.”
Tien hesitated, his dark eyebrows lowering in thought. Traipsing toward the spot where Vegeta’s body had been dying from the sickening electrocution, the hulking man stared down at Bulma as she knelt in the mud, crying softly.
“I don’t want Yamcha to hurt himself,” Tien said softly.
“He won’t,” Piccolo thundered. His green face was shadowed in the haunting darkness of the forest. “We need to get to Capsule Corp. When Vegeta awakens he will be a danger. Goku may not have it in his heart to stop him.”
Bulma let out a shuddering sob again and hugged herself. She was shivering in the icy rain, but she continued staring into the puddle around her knees, her blue locks hiding her face like torn curtains. Krillin knelt down and placed his short arms around her, warming her with his ki.
“Goku’s going to help him. The senzu bean will make everything ok.”
Bulma shook her head violently, sending cold droplets flying through the air. “No. Nothing will ever make this right. I hurt them both,” she gasped and whimpered. “I hurt Yamcha and I destroyed Vegeta.”
Piccolo frowned and turned away from the miserable sight, unable to listen to the pathetic moaning of the humans before him. Empathy and sympathy were so new to him, he was often uncomfortable with his reaction toward the suffering, seeing as he used to inflict pain on others without a care. Thanks to his love for Gohan, Piccolo now experienced the emotions he had always believed were a weakness.
“I’m flying to Capsule Corp. You can all stay here, moping, but I’m going to make sure Vegeta is not a threat when he comes to.”
Krillin, Tien, and Bulma watched as the powerful being flew from the scene, his white cloak dancing in the night sky before disappearing. Krillin nodded to Tien and the two helped the grief-stricken heiress to her feet.
“I’ll fly her plane,” Krillin said. “Feel free to ride with us.”
But just as Tien was about to respond, the black sky flickered and lightning began to dance between clouds. An eerie, purple glow crept steadily through the raining atmosphere and colors began to alternate between a dazzling raspberry hue and a striking teal. The three humans stared upward, their eyes focused on the display of lights flashing overhead, the black clouds reflecting the gorgeous, yet mighty shades across the land.
“He didn’t…” Bulma whispered.
“The dragon,” Krillin and Tien confirmed at the same time.
……………..
Goku teleported directly into the hospital room where Vegeta had spent his first few hours recovering from his assault over a week ago. Placing the unresponsive prince on the pristine hospital cot, the wild-haired saiyajin pulled the room apart, searching for the magical bean that would save Vegeta’s life. Drawers were thrown to the floor, medical supplies were strewn about, and I.V. stands were knocked over.
“Where? Where is it?!”
Glancing over his shoulder, Goku saw that Vegeta’s face was stark white, thick trails of blood seeping from his nose, ears, and parted lips. He didn’t appear to be breathing.
Fisting his hands into his hair, Goku began to panic as his dark eyes scanned the room, looking for the senzu bean Bulma had said would be there. Letting out a livid curse, Goku slid along the wall, his fingers gnarled in his bangs as his heart slammed in his chest.
It was too much: Bulma and Dr. Brief’s betrayal, Yamcha’s despair, the proud saiyajin prince wanting to kill himself. Pain struck Goku’s kind heart and he felt everything he had ever held dear become tainted and warped. Humans could not be this cruel. They couldn’t! His closest friend…was not who he had always believed her to be.
“Goku.”
The hollow, wavering voice made the sad saiyajin look up slowly, his eyes large as he gave the old man in the doorway a pleading look. Dr. Briefs stared back miserably, seeing the absolute betrayal on the young man’s face. Shuffling into the room, the doctor did not seem disturbed at all by the mess of medical supplies on the floor. Reaching into a tall cabinet, his trembling fingers searched blindly before landing on the exact item Goku had been searching for. Without a word, he handed the bean to Goku and the third-class saiyajin stood, accepting the magical healing seed from the doctor’s shaking hand.
Dr. Briefs stood back and watched as the orange-clad fighter approached the deathly pale figure on the hospital bed. His lower lip quivered as he observed the way Goku gently placed a hand on the prince’s cold forehead, feeding him much needed energy. The two last saiyajins in the universe were connected even though they were rivals. Dr. Briefs knew that Vegeta hated Goku, his intense training fueled by his desire to beat the Earth-raised saiyajin, but as he watched the two silently communicate through energy alone, the frail doctor understood the unique bond they held. The tortured prince was obviously unconscious, but the way Goku closed his eyes and nodded, the brilliant scientist could see that the saiyajins did not need to speak with words.
“Just try,” Goku whispered as he placed the bean in Vegeta’s mouth. “Now swallow.”
The motionless body remained still for a moment before a small, wavering breath rattled from a bloody throat. Vegeta twitched in agony before clenching his jaw and swallowing painfully. Goku gave the tortured creature a tight smile and nodded, his eyes remaining glued on the bloody, broken form on the bed.
…………..
Piccolo plowed his way through the cold rain, completely unfazed by the icy hail that was beginning to accompany it. His teeth were clenched and the fury within his chest pulsated the closer he drew to the enormous, green dragon hovering over West City. His clawed fingernails pierced his palms as his fists tightened.
The fool. That fucking, selfish, fool!
Piccolo dropped from the sky over an old, dingy hotel, his cape fluttering around him as he glared at the vacant eyes of the scarred man standing in the building’s parking lot. Surrounding people were staring out their windows and traffic had slowed to a stop as the eternal dragon’s eyes became illuminated, his body glowing brightly in the night sky.
“Your wish has been granted. I bid you farewell!”
Piccolo’s clawed hands grabbed Yamcha by the collar of his shirt, lifting him from the pavement. As he bared his fangs, the seven small dragon-balls rose from the ground and shot in different directions, turning to stone as they faded from sight.
“What did you do?!” Piccolo roared.
Yamcha stared into the sky, his face expressionless and eyes unseeing. Piccolo threw the human to the wet street and let out an animalistic growl.
“What was the wish? Tell me!”
“Originally, it was to bring us back to the moment before Vegeta left Capsule Corp. after our argument last week, so I could stop the nightmare,” Yamcha answered, mumbling more to himself than to the furious namek standing over him. “But there was still a chance Skip and the others would get him eventually.” His dead eyes rose, chilling Piccolo with their lifeless gaze. “I wasn’t going to use them at all when I heard Vegeta was doing better. But…after what just happened…”
Yamcha’s eyes lowered and he stared into the pavement, oblivious to the rain and hail pelting the freezing ground where he sat.
“I told the dragon to block Vegeta’s memories of what occurred. The last memory he will have will be the day before he was abducted in the woods: September 28^th.”
Piccolo trembled with fury. “So, he’ll awake, a week will have gone by, and he will have no recollection of what happened to him? And how will we explain this lapse of memory?”
Yamcha could only shake his head, seemingly out-of-sorts with reality. “All that matters is that he does not suffer anymore. Vegeta needed peace.”
Piccolo reached down and grabbed the human by his shirt again, shaking him violently. “The dragon-balls are not to be used for selfish, personal wishes such as this! They are not toys. They cannot be the answer to everything!”
Hurling the dazed man through a parking garage, Piccolo stormed after the waterlogged human, his anger growing as Yamcha simply lay in a heap, refusing to fight back. The namekian wanted to hurt him severely, but the idea of beating the life from a defeated person made him sick.
“You self-centered, hoggish coward. This wish was not for Vegeta, it was for you. You couldn’t handle the guilt of not protecting Vegeta so you simply wished the problem away. Now you’re guilt-free because he will have no memory of what happened to him. But guess what? Vegeta was still raped and tortured. He was still used and then disposed of at the hands of humans. His body was held captive by an invention created by Bulma and her father. He still attempted to kill himself when he realized no one would help him escape this nightmare. This is all true. The only difference is you took away his right to accept it and move forward on his own. You have controlled his mind against his will. Vegeta’s memories have been erased. The truth hasn’t.”
In the shadowy darkness of the garage, only the shattering strength of the storm outside could be heard. Yamcha was curled in on himself, lying on the dirty slant of the pavement, his face hidden by his arms. Piccolo was surprised by his own anger toward the entire situation. As the second half of Kami, the wise namekian was furious that the mystical orbs he had helped create were squandered so selfishly by a mere human, but he was not expecting to feel so much passion in defending the saiyajin he had thoroughly despised.
Perhaps it was seeing the evil creature shedding tears before his death on planet Namek that had turned Piccolo’s heart. Maybe it was the pure disgust he felt toward what had happened to Vegeta at the hands of humans that made the stoic warrior unable to ignore the prince’s suffering. He shook his head and straightened his turban.
“What were the exact words you used in the wish?”
Yamcha’s shivering body twitched and he slowly picked up his head, staring at Piccolo with the same haunting, dead eyes.
“I told the dragon to block all his memories of what had transpired after September 28^th—to only allow Vegeta to remember September 28^th and nothing after that. So when he awakens tonight, his memory will be blocked from all the tortures he experienced at the hands of Skip, Hal, Hikaru, Rich…and me.”
Piccolo stared down at the idiotic human and let out a disgusted snarl. Whirling his cape around, the giant warrior made his way to an open space in the parking garage.
“Any wish on the dragon-balls must be definite and apparent. You used the word blocked? That means his memories are still present, not erased. You did not give a defined timeline on how long his memories will be blocked. He could very well wake up and immediately remember everything that happened to him,” Piccolo explained with a cruel grin. “Or his blocked memories could arise over the years. Or they could actually remain hidden for the rest of his life. I guess we’ll see when he wakes up.”
Piccolo enjoyed the way Yamcha’s already pale face became white with dread. Without another word, Piccolo leapt onto the ledge of the garage and flew into the air, leaving the trembling human to his fear and despair.
……………….
Goku and Dr. Briefs watched as the tan skin on Vegeta’s face began to glow once more. The dark circles under his eyes disappeared and he shifted on the cot, groaning as his organs were healed. Dr. Briefs trembled in fear as the black-haired prince let out a soft whimper, his dark eyes fluttering open and staring blindly into the ceiling overhead.
Gazing over at the two who accompanied him in the medical room, Vegeta’s eyebrows pinched together as he sat up, confusion written across his face. Just as he was about to open his mouth, the pounding steps of feet echoed within the quiet hallway. Panting, Bulma slid the door open, letting the metal barrier slam into the wall as she stared, wide-eyed, at the bewildered saiyajin who looked at her with utmost surprise. Behind her stood Krillin and Tien, completely soaked and undeniably tense.
“What….is going on?”
Bulma entered the room, her blue eyes shifting nervously to Goku before settling on Vegeta’s blood-stained face.
“What’s the last thing you remember, Vegeta?”
The prince was on edge, his muscles bouncing with the urge to defend himself as he was surrounded by most of the earth’s warriors. His dark eyes trailed along his body, noting the cold, wet clothes plastered to his muscles and the streaks of blood upon his scarred skin. The last thing he remembered? A cloud seemed to have settled over his brain and he felt groggy. His most recent memory was far away and relatively inconsequential. He had been training in the gravity simulator, yes?
“I don’t…” He turned his head to the side in deep thought. “What day is it?”
Bulma told him the date and Vegeta blanched, standing from his bed abruptly. The quick action caused Tien and Krillin to crouch defensively, but the saiyajin prince was too shocked to notice.
“Why do I have no memory of the past week or so?”
Goku gasped and he stared at Bulma with wide eyes, the same jilted expression on his face as when he had glared at her in the forest. Completely unable to move, the third-class saiyajin remained frozen where he stood, too stunned by what he was hearing.
Bulma glanced at her oldest friend and quickly looked away. “You…you got hurt pretty badly, Vegeta. I thought the senzu bean would have helped with…the head injury.”
She spoke to the floor, unable to meet the eyes of anyone in the room.
“What. Happened?” Vegeta growled.
Goku shook his head at the blue-haired woman and then gave the agitated saiyajin a saddened frown. “Vegeta, it’s a pretty involved tale. I think you should probably sit down.”
But before the wild-haired saiyajin could speak, the warriors of earth, Bulma, and her father quickly ushered Goku from the room. Vegeta watched in absolute shock as the crowd of bizarre people disappeared into the hallway, closing the infirmary door without saying a single word to him. Vegeta’s first urge was to chase after the fools, demanding to know what they were hiding, but he felt strange. His powers were shaky and he was exhausted. His brain was moving slowly and he felt a headache beginning to form whenever he tried to recall the past few days. Climbing back onto the hospital cot, the tired saiyajin placed his head in his hands and closed his eyes, willing himself to remember whatever it was that had been forgotten.
“This must have been Yamcha’s wish,” Krillin spoke rapidly. “He had the dragon erase Vegeta’s memories.”
“The dragon? What?” Goku cried.
Bulma hugged herself, shivering in the cool hallway. Her pale blouse was dripping and transparent and her skirt sent chills up her legs every time the material touched her skin.
“That must have been what Yamcha mentioned when we broke up. He said he’d been planning some way to correct the situation. It was the dragon-balls.”
Goku’s anger returned and he spun on heel, making his way back to the room that held Vegeta. “Ok, so he has no memory of what happened. We just need to tell him then.”
The hands grasped him again and pulled him back. Goku could have easily dragged them all down the hallway with him, but he allowed himself to be stopped.
“What’s the point, Goku?” Dr. Briefs pleaded. “Why dredge up such horrifying, brutal realities when he can finally move forward now?”
“What is wrong with you?!” Goku turned to them, his eyes alight with uncharacteristic, burning rage. The small group of humans quickly backed away as the furious saiyajin strode forward. “He is not a prisoner. He has a right to know what happened to him!”
“You’re correct, Goku,” a deep voice boomed from the end of the long hallway.
Piccolo calmly walked toward them. Nodding to a room further down the hall, the earthlings decided to move their debate away from listening ears.
“Vegeta does have a right to know what happened to his mind and body,” the namek explained as Bulma quietly closed the door behind them. “But I think it should wait.”
“Why?”
Piccolo saw the way Goku’s body shook with barely contained fury and he suddenly felt nervous about being in such close quarters with the man. The warrior may have been gentle and friendly most of the time, but Piccolo had witnessed the raw power that could be unleashed when the saiyajin’s rage became too much.
He stared deeply into his old rival’s eyes. “There is a future ahead of us that cannot be disturbed. An order must be followed and we need Vegeta on our side to make sure everything flows smoothly.”
Piccolo could see the slow realization settle upon Goku’s face and the saiyajin dropped his eyes to floor, knowing that his wise friend was correct. There was no way Vegeta and Bulma’s relationship could be reconciled if they told the prince about the horrors he had been subject to. Trunks’s existence depended on barring the proud prince from the truth.
“Fine,” Goku spat. “Tell him whatever lies you want.”
The humans in the room called out to their friend as he swiftly exited the room, but Goku refused to acknowledge them. Feeling like utter scum, the kind-hearted warrior fled Capsule Corp., no longer wanting to be associated with the people who had caged the saiyajin prince and played with his emotions.
Piccolo turned his cold eyes on the others and he silently made his way to the door. “The wish blocked Vegeta’s memories of the events surrounding his abduction and tortures. His earliest memories will be of September 28^thand nothing after.”
With that, the towering namekian followed after Goku. Piccolo had had enough of the selfish humans and their surprisingly monstrous ways.
Bulma felt tears beginning to burn her eyes again and she swallowed down the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. Goku…would never forgive her. She didn’t think it was possible for the playful, loving guy to dislike anyone, but the emotion in his eyes when he stared at her had been filled with nothing but contempt. She wanted to tell Vegeta the truth. She wanted to hold him and show him everything within her mind, but she couldn’t. She was scared. She didn’t want to see the pain on his face when he discovered what had happened to him. She loved him.
“My dad and I will talk to Vegeta,” Bulma murmured. “You guys can go.”
Tien nodded and made his way to the door, but Krillin straightened and walked toward the distraught woman.
“I’ll go in with you… to keep an eye on Vegeta in case some part of his memory happens to return.”
Truthfully, Krillin just didn’t trust Bulma and her father to be alone with the saiyajin prince. As much as it pained Krillin to admit it, his confidence in his childhood friend was badly shaken and he felt it necessary to be present when they gave Vegeta the deceitful story about his memory loss.
Bulma nodded and took a breath, her body language revealing how much she did not want to speak to Vegeta face-to-face after everything that had happened. She wasn’t sure if she would be able to keep it together, knowing that he had tried to kill himself because of her betrayal. His reaction was beyond shocking. He had been falling for her, too…and Bulma hurt him more than anyone could comprehend.
As Tien exited the infirmary and made his way back home, the remaining three humans walked quietly down the hall. Bulma slid the door open to Vegeta’s room and was surprised to see that he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his dirty, booted feet resting on the side bars of the tall cot. His arms were wrapped around his knees and his face was pressed against his bent legs, his breath even and calm. He was sleeping upright, completely unaware of the people who had entered his space.
Vegeta never fell asleep so easily, but over the past few days Bulma had found him nearly collapsing just from using small amounts of energy. She knew that he must have had some kind of altercation against the other warriors and his unsteady powers in the science labs probably drained the ki that had been locked away for so long. She knew that Vegeta’s memory was blocked, but his mind and body were likely reeling from the trauma of what had happened throughout the chaotic day.
“Wow, he just knocked right out, didn’t he?” Krillin observed.
Bulma nodded sadly and reached a tentative hand out. Touching his bare shoulder, she shook Vegeta slightly and called his name.
The reaction was immediate. Vegeta jumped to his feet, his eyes alert and battle senses in full gear. Yet as he peered at the nervous faces around him, he relaxed slightly and leaned against the bed, all signs of sleep gone from his features.
“Care to tell me what happened now?” he barked.
“Of course, of course,” Bulma replied kindly.
She gazed into his face, seeing that his emotionless barrier was in place. He had no memory of their sexual exploits that very afternoon and Bulma’s heart ached as he stared at her cautiously. She was nothing more than the same blue-haired woman who had allowed him into her home—someone to fix the gravity simulator and buy him food. Their growing relationship over the week had disappeared. But then, so did his memory of her betrayal.
“You were training too hard again, Vegeta,” she explained softly, swallowing down the guilt as she lied to him once more. “A little over a week ago one of your energy blasts was deflected from a training bot. It hit you in the back of the head and nearly shattered your skull. You landed on the ground of the gravity simulator at about 450 times normal gravity, head-first.”
The prince’s eyes widened at the information.
“The new crop of senzu beans wasn’t ready so… you’ve been in a coma since then.”
Vegeta’s cold eyes settled on her face and then narrowed. He glanced at Krillin, who stiffened under his intense stare, and then at Dr. Briefs, who seemed terrified just being in the same vicinity as him.
“I was left in this infirmary for a week in ripped, wet clothing and blood upon my body?” Vegeta asked, raising a skeptical brow. “Funny. Your fighter friends seemed quite on edge to see me awake. Even Kakarot was here.”
Bulma’s lips pressed together and she knew the panic glittered in her eyes at the trite tale. Vegeta’s sharp gaze continued to read her, his intelligent, black irises holding her in place.
“Bulma didn’t want to upset you,” Dr. Briefs spoke-up at last. He remained by the door, appearing ready to run from the room. “You became conscious earlier this evening, but you were disoriented, confused. You attacked us, and the other warriors arrived in time to stop you. Unfortunately, your brain was still quite addled. You almost died in the fight against Goku and the others. It was with much luck that a senzu bean became available, though we did wonder if you would have some memory loss from the ordeal.”
Krillin stared at the Briefs, completely unnerved by the way they lied so easily.
“Is this true?”
The short, bald warrior snapped to attention and he backed away from Vegeta, nodding vigorously as the saiyajin prince glared at him. Guilt washed over the honorable, little man and he lowered his eyes.
“We don’t blame you, though,” Krillin muttered. “You…weren’t yourself at all.”
Vegeta remained silent as he took in the information. It was a strange story, but he assumed they were telling the truth. When he awoke, Kakarot had been disheveled and bruised. An obvious brawl had occurred. The other warriors regarded him with the usual cautious animosity, but they, too, were rain-soaked and harried. But how was it that the bean hadn’t fully healed his brain to allow even one memory to pass?
“You were unconscious for quite some time,” Dr. Briefs explained as if reading the disgruntled alien’s mind. “There is a chance that your brain healed a bit on its own, blocking the events of your injury from memory. If it was already healed, even incorrectly, the senzu bean probably could not restore the memories.”
“And there wasn’t much…to remember anyway,” Bulma stammered, finding her throat constricting suddenly. “Besides the fight that just happened, you were here, in this room.”
Her voice broke and Bulma turned toward the sink in the small hospital room, tears finally falling from her eyes as she blatantly rewrote Vegeta’s troubled tale.
“Bulma was very worried about you.”
Her father’s voice was notably soft and she knew that he, too, was sick with grief over what they were still doing to Vegeta. Bulma sniffled and tried to compose herself, but she wanted the prince to remember what they had shared.
Vegeta scoffed with awkward annoyance and stood fully on his feet, crossing his arms as the crying woman made him uncomfortable.
“If that’s all, I’ll be going to my room.”
Giving Krillin and Dr. Briefs a haughty look of indifference, the prince strode from the infirmary, keeping his head held high and face blank. But he was disturbed. He did not like having his memories shattered and he especially didn’t enjoy not remembering the fight he had with Kakarot and the other earthlings. Krillin said he hadn’t been his usual self. Had he channeled the evil planet-destroyer he had been while serving Frieza? Had he acted highly emotional, believing he was trapped in some distant memory of his tormented past?
Vegeta’s stomach clenched at the thought, but he had too much pride to ask anyone how he had behaved when awakening from his supposed coma. Had he hurt or killed anyone within the Capsule Corp. vicinity? Vegeta’s feet slowed at that particular question and he tried to call upon a memory or an image or some sign that would give him an answer, but it was if his thoughts were being controlled. His mind kept pulling his memory back to lackluster, ordinary days of training or eating or conversing blandly with the blue-haired girl.
Bulma. She cried for him. It had only been a few weeks ago that the space ship in which he trained had exploded, landing him in the infirmary with severe injuries. He had awoken to find her sleeping at his bedside.
“Bulma was very worried about you,” her father had said.
Vegeta found himself standing outside his room, biting his lower lip. It was a nervous habit he usually had control over, but sometimes he drew blood from the action. Admonishing himself for such weak behavior, the prince opened the door to his immaculate quarters and entered his bathroom. He was greatly in need of a shower. After some sleep, he would return to his normal activities. An explosion in the gravity simulator, a severe head injury—this only meant he had to train harder. But his thoughts still lingered on Bulma.
*A bit of a lackluster chapter, but things are going to be weird now that everyone but Vegeta knows what happened. Thanks for sticking with it and don’t be afraid to review!*
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Resolution on a Lonely Planet