A Losing Battle | By : BlazeEBlake_TD Category: Dragon Ball Z > Het - Male/Female > Vegeta/Bulma Views: 2121 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z nor do I own any of the characters. I make no money whatsoever by writing this story. |
“You know,” Bulma began carefully, “I had a thought the other day…” Vegeta grunted disinterestedly, continuing to shovel food into his mouth as if his life depended on it.
“Most nights we end up in bed together,” she went on, “And it seems silly to keep going back and forth between two separate rooms all the time…” She paused again, peering at him hopefully to see if he was following the direction in which she was leading the conversation, but his focus remained fixed upon the rapidly diminishing pile of food before him. He had trained late in the evening but Bulma had stayed up, laying in wait with the knowledge that the best time to convince him of anything was after a meal or with sex. When she had spotted him entering the kitchen she had nonchalantly joined him and allowed him to devour his meal for a few silent moments before tentatively launching into the beginnings of her proposal.
Suddenly aware of her eyes on him, Vegeta glanced up, mouth still full and glared at her dubiously.
“What?” he mumbled, several errant crumbs tumbling from his lips.
“I think it would be a good idea for us to share a room from now on,” she concluded quickly. Vegeta swallowed with an audible gulp and crossed his arms.
“Why?”
“Well, like I said, we’re together most nights anyway, so why don’t we make it easier and have one room for both of us?”
“Typical human laziness. As if it is a difficult task to walk the short distance between our quarters.”
“That’s not what I meant. I just think it would be nice to have a room for us, instead of sneaking around like it’s some kind of big secret. We are together after all..”
“Apparently not enough. Do your vulgar cravings know no bounds woman?”
“Not just for that! We would sleep there too. I know you don’t sleep much but when you did, I could do it with you.”
“For what purpose?”
“It’s just how it’s done here, ok? C’mon, I think it’s a reasonable request.”
“I don’t see the point in spending non-waking hours joined at the hip.”
“Well then it can’t do any harm either, can it? And maybe there’ll be some nights we start off sleeping, and then…” She raised an eyebrow suggestively, causing him to scoff in return.
“What do you say handsome?” she asked with a wink.
“No.”
“Huh?” Without another word, Vegeta stood up and left the room. Bulma shifted her eyes between the kitchen’s entrance and the abandoned pile of food in silent befuddlement. As always what should have been simple had become a frustrating conundrum. However, in spite of the Saiyan’s quiet complexity, Bulma had spent enough time with him to know that such a sudden refusal was rooted in something far deeper than just a passing reluctance or disagreeable mood.
Biting her lip, she stood, quickly cleaned up or packed away the remnants of the late dinner and headed upstairs as quietly as she could manage. When she came to his door, she raised her hand to knock on it gently, only to have it pulled out of her reach as Vegeta threw it open and scowled down at her.. For a moment, his grim expression reminded her of the one their son wore when he refused to go to bed on time, and she had to fight an inopportune smile in spite of herself.
“I will not discuss this matter any further,” he said grumpily.
“I’m sorry if I upset you,” she replied gently, “I didn’t know that something like that would bother you so much.”
“Bother me? Tch. I’m not some sentimental human. I simply have no desire to entertain your ridiculous idea.”
“If you say so. But, I really wish you’d at least consider it. Or maybe tell me what exactly you don’t like about it?”
“I see no reason in changing the way things are. If you are dissatisfied with the time I have allotted you then it is no fault of mine.” Bulma scrutinized him for a few moments before shrugging and walking away to her own room. As she changed and laid down for bed, she wracked her brain for what could possibly make him so uneasy as to shut her down so abruptly. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t spent nights together before. If anything, the number of evenings they passed in the same bed had increased in the intervening months. However, the more she thought on it, the more Bulma realized that the two of them hardly ever experienced a full night in the same bed. Granted, things had improved substantially since their early days together. Back then, he would immediately and wordlessly disappear following the conclusion of their torrid exchanges, but even now he never stayed the entire night. Most of the time, he would leave just after she had fallen asleep, or silently slip away after only an hour or so of rest at her side. She knew this because every now and again his departures would awaken her, and she would take the opportunity these disturbances presented to watch him surreptitiously as he sneaked away. At first she had believed he left her to get back to the training he was so driven to, but on occasion, once she was sure he had truly taken his leave of her, she had peeked out onto the compound and observed him quietly meditating beneath a tree, or even staring up at the stars above them.
Unable to sleep with this realization swirling in her head, Bulma climbed out of bed and crept back down the hallway to the prince’s room, surprised to see the door uncharacteristically ajar. With a low, deep breath, she pressed herself against the wall it was set into and eased herself toward the entryway gradually. When she heard his rough voice mumbling from the other side of the wall she froze, fearful that her clandestine investigations had been discovered all too soon. But when he fell silent and his muscular frame failed to appear, she haltingly continued her journey forward, peering inside when she reached the unattended point of ingress.
Vegeta lay on his bed, naked from the waist up and above the covers, stirring restlessly at odd intervals. From time to time he would mutter to himself inaudibly, his brow creasing and beading with sweat. Against her better judgement, Bulma stepped into the room and made her way to his bedside, her own skin perspiring nervously. Upon reaching him, she was able to make out his faint nocturnal ramblings.
“No!” He rasped, “I am the Prince of all Saiyans! I fall to no one!” Bulma frowned, his present state reminding her all too well of the Saiyan’s brush with death following the gravity room explosion. Apparently the nightmares hadn't ended with his transformation into Super Saiyan.
“Bulma…” He grumbled. She gasped at the rare utterance of her real name. A warm, tender feeling began to bloom at the edges of her predominant concerns, only to be immediately replaced by one of guilt. More than likely Vegeta hadn't wanted her to observe any of this, and had refused this evening’s offer to avoid such incidents. Feeling the weight of her hasty intrusion, Bulma slowly began to back out of the room. She was almost to the door when the Saiyan roared and sat up, his once black hair now golden and glowing. Momentarily disoriented, his eyes fell on her and narrowed. Bulma let out a surprised yelp and fled, face reddening. She sprinted down the hallway, into her own bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Her heart pounding almost painfully, she gave another surprised cry when the telephone by her bed suddenly rang out. Sighing and clutching her chest, she grabbed the phone and pressed the green button on its face to speak.
“Hello?” She said, “This is Bulma. Do you have any idea what time-?”
“Bulma!” Gohan’s panicked voice interrupted, “I think mom’s going into labor. She woke up in a lot of pain and I think her water broke! She weeks early and that could mean all kinds of-”
“I knew those baby books were just going to stress you out! Listen, is your grandpa there?”
“Yeah! He's packing up her bag!”
“Good. Call her doctor. The number should be on the fridge. Have him meet you at Central City Hospital ok? I’ll head over too!”
“Alright. But Bulma-”
“Just breathe. It's gonna be fine!” Bulma hung up, stripped off her nightgown and threw on the shirt and jeans she had discarded earlier in the evening. Grabbing her purse, she ran out into the hallway and hurried to the stairs. When she passed Vegeta’s door, she tried her best to ignore the disgruntled Saiyan leaning against the jamb, flashing a smile before jogging down the steps. In the living room, she slipped on her sneakers and exited the house, digging in her bag as she came to stand in the empty driveway.
“What were you doing in my room,” Vegeta’s voice suddenly whispered in her ear. Bulma whirled around to face him, once again attempting an innocent grin.
“I thought I heard something so I came to check on you,” she said with a shrug.
“You came to check on me? As if I need protection, particularly from the likes of you.”
“You're right! Silly human! Anyway, ChiChi’s going into labor so, gotta go!” She turned away only to find him standing before her again.
“How did you-” she began, blinking in shock
“I saw you woman. What were you up to?” He queried, ignoring her surprise.
“Look, I really have to go, so either come with me or drop it.” She began riffling through her bag once more when he grabbed her by the waist.
“Where is Kakarot’s woman?” He asked with a sigh.
“Central city, a few miles East,” Bulma explained, throwing her arm around his neck.
Vegeta shot into the air, speeding along according to the directions Bulma managed to squeak out between startled gasps.
“Thanks,” Bulma said wobbling to her feet when they landed in front of the hospital.
“What is this building?” Vegeta asked, looking up at the tall structure quizzically, “It smells of blood and fear. Are there battles being fought on these grounds?”
“No, it's a hospital. For sick people. They come here to get better.”
“This entire edifice is for injuries? The fragility of your population is staggering.” Bulma rolled her eyes and quickly entered the building through its large sliding double doors.
“I'm looking for the maternity ward,” Bulma panted at the receptionist, “My friend came in with-”
“Bulma!” Someone called from down the hall.
She turned and found a distraught looking Gohan rushing toward her.
“Hey kiddo!” She said brightly, coming to meet him halfway, “What are you doing out here?”
“Mom kicked me out. She said I was making her nervous.”
“Sounds like your mom. Lead the way.” Gohan paused, glancing over her shoulder.
“H-hey Vegeta,” he said uncertainly. Not bothering to turn around, Bulma heard him grumble a short greeting.
“Don't mind him, let's just worry about your mom,” Bulma said, placing a hand on the young man's shoulder.
“Right,” he replied, turning away from the elder Saiyan to lead them down to his mother’s room.
“You and I still need to have a conversation woman” Vegeta reminded her, suddenly at her side.
“Well it’ll have to wait until after the baby shows up.”
“I don't-”
“You wanna talk now huh? Tough.” Before he could respond, Bulma sped up to walk beside Gohan, nose in the air.
* * * * * * *
Vegeta stood in a long windowed corridor, dozens of squealing newborn earth children visible through the many wide panes before him. After finding Kakarot's widow, the woman had abandoned him here to wait, presumably until the birth of the deceased man’s latest halfbreed. He crossed his arms and leaned against a section of wall, glaring down at the floor.
In spite of her weak explanations, he was certain she had been in his room, uninvited, while he slept. It made him uneasy and the only reason he had come to this wretched, foul smelling place was to determine her motives and ensure that she would never do it again. A fairly confident part of him knew it likely had something to do with their earlier conversation about a shared quarters. He had foolishly believed she had given up on the notion entirely and now he planned on making it absolutely clear that such an arrangement was out of the question. Her stubbornness be damned.
His head snapped up when his senses picked up a slightly elevated energy. Through the window, he saw a man lowering a familiar-looking child into one of a sea of plastic cradles. Vegeta pushed off the wall and walked closer to the glass, head tilted as he took in the ward’s latest addition.
“Looks just like him huh?” He heard the woman say as she took her place beside him and peered in the room.
“Another fool. Just what this planet needs,” he said dismissively.
“Considering everything we deal with around here, another Goku couldn't hurt.”
“Humph.”
“So listen… About that room stuff. I didn't mean to pry, really. I just realized that we've hardly ever spent a whole night together and I was curious about why. Is it the… The nightmares?”
“You never can leave well enough alone can you?”
“Well? Is that why you won't share a room with me? You don't want me to see you having bad dreams? Because, I don't know if you remember but I've already seen you like that. After the gravity room exploded?”
“Yes, because all of my free hours are spent fearing what you think of me. Honestly can you really be that thick? Did you not notice that I lack control during these episodes? You could be killed.”
“You would never hurt me..”
“So sure huh? You have no idea what I am capable of.”
“Maybe not before. But now, I’m positive. You keep us safe.” She touched his arm, but he shrugged away from her touch agitatedly.
“You're different now,” she continued, “I think you've been changing since you… Since you died. Gohan and Krillin told me about how you poured your heart out to Goku before-”
“Can no one with an ounce of human blood keep their mouth shut?” He exclaimed.
“I'm just saying, you're not the evil monster that Freeza guy turned you into.”
“Of course you would think that,” he jeered, “But make no mistake woman, Freeza did not turn me into anything. Even without his interference, as a Saiyan I was always destined to be a hardened and cold hearted warrior, destroying anyone and anything in my path to glory and strength. I have no shame for what I am or what I have done.”
“Well if you don’t have any regrets, then why the nightmares?” He stood in thought for a moment, carefully contemplating his answer.
“My whole life, my only desire has been power and victory on the battlefield,” he began, “Nothing held greater meaning to me than my quest to become the strongest in the universe, and nothing haunted me more when I had to face being outclassed, first by that abomination Freeza and then by Kakarot. That feeling of weakness, of being bested and denied my rightful place as the fiercest warrior in existence was and always will be something I can neither bear nor accept. And now, with each day that my abilities go untested against the only warrior left to stand between me and my birthright, I feel as though the gap between us will never be closed, that I face an eternity languishing as something less than the warrior I was born to be. These growing shortcomings could not be more evidently expressed than in my… attachments to this planet.” Bulma wrapped her arms around her own shoulders, her expression wilting slightly.
“So, what then?” Bulma whispered, “You can’t sleep because… You’re miserable here?”
“... No,” he said sullenly, “Even lacking these confounding ties, my sleep has always proved restless. Kakarot and the problem his absence presents are simply new chapters to an old tale. I was born to be a warrior and I will never be satisfied with second best, waking or sleeping. You and the boy have nothing to do with that.” They stood in silence for a moment, neither one meeting the other’s eyes.
“What are they like?” Bulma finally asked softly.
“Does it matter?” he returned harshly
“To me it does.”
“... They change, from night to night. But now, I am often facing myself, what I once was, and I am found wanting in every way that matters. And then he… I destroy everything. I can't say which is worse: that in these trifling visions I have softened enough to be defeated by a version of myself that bowed to that freak Freeza, or that I wish to preserve my dull existence on this docile rock and ultimately, I fail.”
“By everything do you mean…”
“Everything. You. Our son. Everything.”
“But you would never do that and, if anything, you're stronger than you've ever been. And as far as Goku goes, who knows? Maybe you’ll get another shot at beating him. Stranger things have happened.”
“Huh. You truly wish to see your clown friend cut down? I would show no mercy if given another chance to defeat him.”
“I mean, I don’t think you could kill him twice. Besides, what kind of girl would I be if I didn't cheer on my prince?” He fell silent as he briefly allowed himself to contemplate a world where his chance to best his rival was not yet lost. It seemed impossible and he dared not give in to false hopes, but for a fleeting moment, something in him felt livened.
“I hope you know tough guy,” she piped up, “you belong to me just as much as I belong to you, and I’m willing to bet that bond against any nightmare outbursts.” Vegeta tore his eyes away from the miniature Kakarot in the next room and ventured an appraising glance at the woman. Her fearlessness was astounding. He could never be sure if she was uncharacteristically brave for her species or just stupid.
“You won't hurt me,” she repeated, “I know it.” He scoffed and turned back to the spiky haired child.
“How long would this room of yours take to prepare?” he asked warily.
“Actually,” she said, grinning sheepishly but still looking away, “it's already done. I started working on it after the baby shower. It's got plenty of room and a big bed in case you go all sleep Super Saiyan” Vegeta shook his head, smirking in spite of himself. As frustrating as she could be, there was something to be said about the boldness she so frequently displayed.
“Not a bad day,” the woman mused, “we get a new room and Trunks gets a new friend.” Vegeta’s smile faded. She always had to take it a step too far. Imagine, his son the playmate of Kakarot’s youngest brat. Utter nonsense.
“You know, she continued, “I have bad dreams too.”
“About losing a piece of jewelry or some such nonsense I presume,” he mocked lightly
“Frogs.”
“You compare my struggles to a-a fear of amphibians? Just… Shut up.”
“No really. There's this awful one from Namek that always gives me the creeps.” Realization washing over his face, Vegeta laughed in earnest, the woman's irate but perplexed face feeding into his altered temperament all the more.
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