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Much Like Suffocating

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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 acteacters 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.

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

Goku
sighed. Rubbed his wrists and stared at
the blank screen. He needed to contact
his father again. Wasn’t so sure he
could just look at him and think about the fact that his father was a betrayer
and a disgusting animal the likes of which Goku had thought only Freiza could
be. Could not believe that that was his
father.

Couldn’t
believe he had been so blind and stupid and so trusting. Felt stupid and used and wondered why the
hell he had been saved in the first place.
What part he played in Bardock’s little scam. Whatever it was, he could not imagine, he should have been the
one to save Vegeta. Unless it drove
home some sort of point.

(Only
I can keep that from becoming your life.
Only I can save you.)

The
door behind him opened and the spidery-princess drifted in. She moved across the room, tilted her head
to one side. Then, in a cold voice—she
was always cold—said: “We have something in our ship. Something which does not belong.
I can feel it. Lingering and
ticking.”

Oh. Joy.
As if it wasn’t a big enough pain in the ass to have to nurse the prince
back to normalcy while he was told his father had set up a plot to undermine
the rulers and align himself with Freiza—the very maggot that had destroyed
Goku’s life. That was not enough of a
hassle, that was not enough of a strain.
That didn’t hurt so much he couldn’t breath, and now he had to deal with
‘something’ that ‘lingered and ticked.’
“Do you have any idea what it is?”

“Something
meant to hobble us, I am sure. Why else
would we have your nephew on our ship?”

It
made the most sense, as he stared at her pale skin, that the spider would
understand the nature of betrayal.
Would understand the delicate threads of a plan that they had not yet
even begun to grasp. He wondered how
much the Prince knew, and at the same time, knew that whatever Vegeta knew was
ten years old. That things should have
changed since the time when he had figured out Bardock’s intentions. He sighed.
“What do you mean, Chi? Why give
us the means to fix the problem if we shouldn’t have it fixed?”

“Hobble
us,” she said, “What will we eat? What
will we do as we sit out here and rot?
I will die first, after the boy.
Because I need blood, and then Krillin, and Bulma and all that will
remain will be you and Prince.” She had
a strange little grin on her face.
“Strange, how trusting you are…
All of you Saiyans. How you
follow Bardock because he sees the future.
And what makes you think, little ones, that just because he sees that he
speaks the truth of it?”

Great. Just.
Fucking. Great. Something was ticking and lingering, his
father was trying to kill them, and the princess was signing their death
warrants.

“Why
wouldn’t we use you to get us out of here.”

“To
where would you have me take you?” she asked.
“To your home planet? It is too
far away. To my planet? Where your flesh will be devoured by my
people? To Juro; where you and the
Prince will burn in the fires of their piety for your uncleanliness. You would burn the moment your feet touched
their ground. The Gods would reach
their hand from the sky and strike you down.”
She smirked. “A clever trap we
have landed in. Now it is your ability
alone that can wiggle us free.”

How. Fucking.
Great. He wondered if anyone
else was going to join in the ‘lets tell Goku that he’s going to die and his
father’s an ass that wants him dead’ chorus.
Wondered if Bulma had some dark secret to divulge to him. Wondered when Krillin was going to come and
say that he knew what Vegeta had said.

Closed
his eyes and dropped his head to the desktop.
Heard the screen flicker to life, and as if summoned from sheer venomous
thought, his father was there. Glaring
at him through the screen. “Goku,” he
barked, “I expected an update hours ago.
What happened to your lame horse?”

“It
died,” he mumbled. Lifted his head,
looked at the man he had spent the past ten years trusting. Thought that Bardock was better than Freiza,
had learned every sense of ‘goodness’ from him, and now he had to question it
all. “There was nothing to report,
father, the horse never managed to get back up off its ass.” Code for ‘the Prince is a screaming mess.’

His
father sighed. “I should have expected
that.”

“Sorry,”
he said, found himself assessing the man like he was something evil, trying to
see where he hid that horrible, horrible part of himself so efficiently that
nobody had ever seen it.

“I
expect the next update on time, Goku.”
Then the screen went black again.

He
rubbed his wrists again, and sighed, felt the stinging sense of hate that he
had once held for freedom. Remembered
so long ago when he had been nothing but that chip in his leg that let his
thoughts die.

“Wriggle,”
Chichi said as she drifted way, “Wriggle to freedom, little fly.”

~~~***

The
midget came to find him. He remembered
years ago, back when he was still the Prince and had only ever been the Prince,
when his father had told him the nature of the Juro. Wimps. A planet full of
spineless jelly-fish that ducked their bald heads and bemoaned how powerful
their minds were. Whimpered and whined
and hid behind morals so thick nobody could penetrate the outer atmosphere of
their planet. Once, his father told
him, Long ago, the people of Juro had pissed off their Gods, and in retaliation
they had been burned alive for years.
Always alive, always burning in agony, and that punishment was never
forgotten.

Vegeta
had very little respect for the small Prince that stood before him and ducked
its baldhead.

“I
know what you told Goku,” the midget-mind-reader told him, “And I have come to
offer you my life in return for the years that I could have saved you from your
pain.”

What
a strange race. “Save it,” he
said. Shifted in the chair Goku left
him in. He wanted his hands free, and
they were still bound together tightly, keeping him from clawing at his skin as
it itched and ached and begged for the oil and the touch of hands.

The
small Prince looked at him. “Are you
going to oppose Bardock?” Krillin asked.
“Nobody has ever opposed him.”

There
was more to that statement. The
knowledge that nobody had ever opposed Bardock and lived to tell of it. Nobody had ever stood against him and
managed to walk away to tell the horrific tale. Their bodies were found, years later, in pieces. Parts of skulls and bones and skin. But never together. That was the power of Bardock, that was his
loyalty to the crown, that they had sent him out to dispose of the unworthy and
those that would not die. But Vegeta
didn’t care. He would kill the bastard
whether Bardock was powerful or not. He was the Prince of ALL Saiyans—up to and
including Bardock.

Krillin
sighed. “I stood by his side for many
years,” he said, “And never once did he think of any plan. I did not even know of you until he decided
to send Goku for you.”

That
he did not understand. Why the fuck
would Bardock have sent his son? Why
would he have saved the Prince at all?
What the hell was that? What
purpose did it serve? The thoughts rode
around his mine like monsters, repeating themselves and cackling when he
pressed his bound hands to his forehead.
Tried to think through the insanity, but found that beyond the need for
revenge, nothing was coming from the murky depths of his mind.

Looked
at the midget Prince, and wondered why the hell it was that Bardock had allowed
all his most powerful enemies to be on the same ship…

Unless
he was going to kill them all in one fell’s swoop. Unless they were all together because this ship was going to kill
them. He tried to think through that
fog of his mind again, but couldn’t, found that he didn’t even know what he was
trying to think about. Looking for more
of Bardock’s enemies, looking for more that he would send to this ship to
kill. Couldn’t remember any.

“There
is another,” Krillin said quietly, “Another rather powerful opponent of
Bardock. He openly disputes him…”

He
was not in the mood to play the cryptic ‘lets all guess what the fucking
mind-reader is thinking’ game. That
midget was the mind reader, why the hell was he mumbling off like he was
waiting for Vegeta to jump to his feet and shout out. “AHA, I HAVE IT!” This
wasn’t some fucking game, this was reality.
This was the world they lived in, the one where they were all the
knife’s edge of getting their asses destroyed by the most disgusting traitor in
the universe, and if that damn midget didn’t open his fucking mouth and…

(He’s
pretty isn’t he?)

What?

“What
was that?” Krillin asked, turned—away from him—toward the door. “It felt like… A tremor.”

(Kakarot. He was pretty.)

No. Kakarot was not pretty. He was a kidnapped child who was forced into
a life that was degrading beyond the most depraved imagination. He wasn’t pretty, Goku wasn’t pretty. He was strong. The second tremor shook the floor, and Vegeta looked in the same
direction of the midget.

“OH
FUCK!” It was an unknown voice that
screamed this, a strange half-recognized voice that made Vegeta close his
eyes. Another tremor ran through the
ship, shook the floor and the table and the chair. Knocked the little midget boy to his knees, and the door burst
open. Broke off the hinges and bowed,
nearly folded itself into half but didn’t break.

“What’s
happening?” Krillin asked. Curled his
small fingers into small fists and tried to push himself back up to his feet,
but another tremor racked the ship, and he was knocked back to his knees.

Vegeta
sat very still, felt shockwaves as they ran through him, through the ship. Watched that door as it bent further. Waited for it to break, waited for the
stress to kill it. Watched it twist
into a demented shape, watched it change from a door to a corrupted sculpture,
but it would not break.

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

Vegeta: WHY
the HELL am I WATCHING the stupid DOOR?!

Gk: There
were no plastic bags around?

Vegeta: Huh?

Gk: Oh,
never mind. If you don’t know what I
mean, you just don’t know.

Vegeta:
O.o I’m scared. He knows something I don’t.

Bulma: *pats
Vegeta* It’s alright, baby, I’ll take
care of you.

Ginia:

*GASP
* After I went through all that work to
make sure the numbers were right?! *sobs *
Er…uh…why are they standing against King Vegeta? I agree with you, the little Prince of Juro
could definitely be one of the strongest allies. But…er…why are they against the King? *blink blink *

Noel:

*closes
notebook and shuts off computer * Well,
guess I can’t write anything anymore.
*dusts hands off and sits back. *
Ahhh…the simple life…

Marie:

Why…no,
nothing happened. *feigns more
innocence * Yeah; the whole first part
of chp8 just ruined the flow I think. I
didn’t really like the way it turned out, but I was just *deflated balloon
noise * So I left it be. Yes, I made Bardock a baddie. *sigh*
normally I adore him.

Mechanical Butterfly:

Really? *twinkly eyed * You had suspicions? (is
made happy by this. )

Yes;
I realize I don’t have to explain the story because eventually the story will
explain itself. But (believe or not) I
don’t have a bunch of people reading my writing that often. Mostly I tell plot lines to folks and they
tell me where the holes are, or whatever, but they don’t actually read. So I always feel like I should just lay the
plot out and say ‘so, whatcha think?’
But I won’t.

Ah. I understand not wanting to write if you’re
not feeling passionate about it. (For
instance, I do fanfiction when I can’t write my originals.) I will wait patiently. Yeah!
You’re writing! (Why are you
reading then? Hmm?)

I
wouldn’t sympathize so much with Bardock is I were you. ‘Saving his son’ or not, his little plan has
only begun to surface.

Jaygoose:

You’re
not more twisted for reading it than I am for writing it.

*all is made right in the
world * *smiles * Yes, that is more than okay! I always spell Kalika wrong, don’t I? *sighs *
I’m sorry about that.

Setharo07:

Normally
I ignore Gohan or make snarky comments about him behind his back, or have him
be an evil punk. So I figured for a
nice change of pace I would make him…gasp…seemingly ‘good’ And having Bulma attracted to him is just
something I thought was funny (funny from the view point of the show, which
obviously, is not being taken into account here.)

Yeah. The breasts comment was supposed to break up
the angsty-angst.

Macha:

Don’t sigh at me!
Everything will be revealed in time, MISSY. So, yes, Bardock can see the future. (I actually go into the whole ‘prophetic/clairvoyaint/precognition’
thing a lot in my fics (My Weiss Kruez ones that were never published) and my
originals. I find it very interesting
how people react to ‘seers’ and what not.)