Unforgivable | By : thePrincesJewel Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 7485 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
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. |
Well, at least there’s one good thing about him being unconscious, I can get him decently fed! Vegeta adjusted the drip on the IV, waiting as the contents - originally set to be given over the course of six hours - drained away over the next half hour. He changed it twice before he reset the thing, and disposed of the incriminating empty bags. I promised to let Goku die, not Kuroichi, but I want him to live well if he’s going to live. No more of this starving himself! I do not care if he never raises his chi again, as long as he EATS!
A little surprised by how vehement his thought had been, Vegeta paused, his gaze unerringly landing on the nearly still form. Only the steady rise and fall of his chest gave any indication that Kuroichi was alive. Gods above and below, I hadn’t realized just how pale he was. Those scars - Kakarot! How could you? Goku, how did you sink so low? The scars looked livid and half-healed, angry reds against the nearly translucent whiteness of his skin. There wasn’t a single portion of his body that didn’t have a scar somewhere on it.
The bruises Trunks had given him were mottled, ugly yellow and green with some bluish-purple still showing. The boy was appalled when he saw all those scars, and even more horrified when he realized he’d left such massive bruises. At least it doesn’t seem that the cut will scar. Small consolation.
Why in the world does he think I hate his mother and am punishing her? Did she do something? I have been rather preoccupied…. Vegeta let his mind wander as he continued his self-appointed task of tending his servant.
“Vegeta?” The soft call preceded the mass of hair that poked around the door, topping the head of the younger version of the broken man on the bed. “Can I….?” Goten blinked halfway through his question, walked to the bed. Uncertain fingers reached out, tracing the scar that cut across the face, outlining the dragon. “Dad…”
“Your father’s dead, brat.”
“No.” Goten shook his head, his fingers running lightly, uncertainly over the mangled hair. “No, this is my father. Do you think I wouldn’t recognize him? What is going on? Mother told me he died… months ago. She said you told them he was dead.”
“No. This isn’t your father, Goten. This is Kuroichi… the man your father lived with most of the last year. He is the one who told us your father killed himself.”
Goten froze, his fingers dangling helplessly over yet another of the many scars. “This man… is the one who said Father killed himself?”
“Yes.” Vegeta waited.
“But… Vegeta?” Goten raised his head, closed his eyes. “You’re wrong. This is my father. That’s his chi signature… but so weak! What’s wrong with him?”
“No, Goten.” Vegeta found himself reaching to touch the man’s shoulder, making Goten meet his eyes. “Your father is dead. He asked me to… let him die as he’d lived, beautiful and innocent. This is Kuroichi. Your father asked me to bring home with me.”
Black on black eyes met his own, dropped. “I understand. I… I won’t tell.”
“Trunks, Bulma, your mother. None of them recognized him. He… is mine, now. Trunks found me feeding him, and rather overreacted. If Kuroichi didn’t have such a hard head, he’d probably be dead.”
“Yours?” Goten looked back at the man on the bed. “You mean… um… that he’s your boyfriend?”
“BAKA!” Vegeta roared. “No, he is not my boyfriend! Or my lover, as Trunks said,” he added bitterly. “He is my servant.”
“Servant?” Wide black eyes blinked a few times, then a bright grin burst across his face. “Good!”
“Good?” Vegeta repeated, taken aback.
“Oh, just something I overhead him say once before he realized he wasn’t alone!” Goten, his smile as bright as his father’s ever had been, left Vegeta stewing over that enigmatic comment.
“My head…” Kuroichi moaned. He raised a sluggish hand to find the gauze that covered the cut, realized that his shoulder hurt, and dropped the hand where it fell. His eyes cracked open. “Infirmary,” he whispered. “What… happened?”
He sat up slowly, his eyes getting very wide when he realized he had a needle stuck in his arm. An inaudible whimper, he cringed away from his own arm, following the tubing to see what it was attached to him. And relaxed when he saw the note attached to the bag: Food, and don’t you dare pull out the needle - Vegeta.
“You finally woke up.”
Kuroichi turned his aching head to find Vegeta leaning against the door. “What happened?”
Surprise shot over Vegeta’s features. “You don’t remember?
“I remember… strawberries?” Kuroichi frowned. “You were giving me a strawberry. Some one came in? And then pain.”
“You were eating a banana, and Trunks objected.”
Kuroichi rubbed his head just below the bandage. “Who is Trunks?”
“My son.” Vegeta frowned. “Do you know who I am?”
“My master,” came the immediate reply. “You are Vegeta, Prince of the Saiyans.”
“Do you know who you are?”
“My name is Kuroichi,” he replied after a moment, as his eyes dropped.
“Who is Goten?”
“Goku’s youngest. I remember now.” He rubbed at his forehead again.
“Good, because Goten knows his father when he sees him.”
“What!”
“He was here earlier, for whatever reason.” Kuroichi looked a question, Vegeta smirked. “He got partway through a question, saw you, and lost all track of why he came.”
Kuroichi collapsed back against the pillows. “Kill me.”
“No.” Vegeta settled on the edge of the bed. “I am not going to kill you. Goten understands that his father is dead. He even seemed happy that Kakarot sent you home with me.”
“Happy?” What little emotion had been in Kuroichi’s expression fled.
“Apparently, Goku said something once, when he thought he was alone, so that it’s a good thing I have you now.” The flush that took over the pale skin was something to behold. “I take it you know what he meant.”
“Yes.” Again, Kuroichi rubbed at his forehead, the flush fading as the nagging pain took over his concentration. “How bad is this?”
“Not very. A human would have probably had his skull crushed. You have a slight concussion and stitches. And no, I don’t think it will scar. Don’t mess with that!” Vegeta snapped as Kuroichi moved to tug at the needle in his arm. “You aren’t leaving here until I’m quite sure you’ve had enough nutrition pumped into you.”
“I have to stay in here?”
“The only difference between your room and this one is that it’s smaller.” Vegeta regarded the younger Saiyan a moment. “And I suppose the bed is less comfortable.”
“Much less.”
“Regardless, you will stay here another few hours.” Vegeta rose, switched out the bag hanging from the IV again, and adjusted it. “Two more hours, then you can get up. For now, just sleep.”
“Why’re you being so nice?” The question was out before he could stop it, and Kuroichi clapped both hands over his mouth. Vegeta merely regarded him with amusement, then left. “That wasn’t an answer!”
He watched the secondhand on the clock, unable to sleep. Goten knew. Goten knows. He… heard me? When, I wonder? What did he hear? No, I don’t want to know! Vegeta said he understood his father is dead, was glad I am with him. I don’t understand that. Why would Goten understand?
Maybe he just understands that Goku preferred to be thought of as dead rather than be his father. That’s what he’s used to, after all. How many times was he left behind? So many… Goku never really was much of a father. How did Goten recognize him? How could he, when even his mother couldn’t? I don’t understand!
-----------------------
Goku: *points* Does that line make sense?
Jewel: *reads* Er, maybe not. But, it is you thinking.
Goku: What’s that supposed to mean?
Jewel: Hey, my thought processes aren’t exactly coherent. Why should yours be?
Vegeta: At least I’ve told everyone he’s not my lover.
Jewel: Yep. *snickers*
Vegeta: *alarmed* What?
Jewel: Oh, you’ll find out!
Vegeta: *very very alarmed* Find out what?
Jewel: *big cheesy grin*
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