DISCLAIMER:  I hate writing these.  I don't own anything obviously.  If I did I wouldn't be writing fanfics I'd be making anime!  And it would be sweet.

A/N: This is just a little one-shot, pg-13 for dark themes.
 

    It's been a long time since I thought of my wish.  The one reason I came to this backwater planet in the first place.  Two years after coming here after Namek blew I thought of it, even toyed with the idea of getting all the dragon balls, but somehow I forgot.
    I think it was because of Bulma.  Not because of her I should say, but because of her mouth.  Somehow the subject of my wish was brought up in one of our many arguments and she had the nerve to say:
    "Vegeta, you just want to be immortal because you know your going to hell."

    I couldn't think of anything to say and she walked off with this smug look on her face.  I could have ripped her damn head off, the bitch.  If she knew what I saw when I died, she wouldn't have made such a casual reference.  She probably wouldn't have said anything at all.
    Against my will I am drawn back to that moment, seemingly so long ago.  The moment my lungs filled with blood from my destroyed heart and I suffocated on it.
    I don't remember being judged.  All I remember is the overwhelming fear and horror I felt as I plunged towards  a dark abyss.  It was thick, horrible darkness, I couldn't see a thing, but I could feel the heat growing as I drew near and the horrible screams that grew louder and louder as I approached.  I lost all sense of time.  I was falling forever.  And the pain from my wounds increased three-fold so that it took all my self-control to not scream like a baby.  And my shame and fear were intensified.  More than anything I wanted to crawl in a hole and disappear, but there was no escape, of that I was certain.
    A lurid orange light began to fill my vision and I felt my skin shrivel, blacken, and begin to smoke.  The pain was more intense than any I'd ever experienced and I was sure that the piercing screams I was hearing were my own.
    Then it all stopped.  I hit the ground with shattering force and for days or weeks (I had no way of knowing exactly how long) I lay there, unable to move.  My bones were shattered, my flesh was hissing and popping like hot coals in a fire, and the agony was more than I could ever hope to bear.  So I lay there weeping like a lost child, begging for forgiveness that I knew I didn't deserve.
    After awhile the pain seemed to lessen, or maybe I was just getting used to it.  Whatever the case, I was at last able to observe my surroundings, but none of it was a comfort.  It only brought more pain.
    Around me were dead souls looking for a respite to their pain.  The futile search was difficult to watch, but my wretched state would allow nothing else.  Hundreds of thousands wept and tore their hair and dug their nails across their rotten flesh.   They too begged for forgiveness even thought they knew, just as I did, that they would receive none.  I tried to close my eyes against the sight, but the flesh had burned away.  I was trapped and helpless.  And I felt more tears burning a path down my scorched flesh.  I had never stopped to think what would happen when I died.  I had always been sure that nothing would happen.  I'd be dead, gone without a trace as if I'd never been.  If I'd known this…  I would have killed myself before doing Frieza's bidding.  For that is why I'm here?  Isn't it?  All those people I killed.. At the time I knew it was either them or me, but now that I know what les beyond life, I would have ended mine in an instant.
    Some of the dead had begun to surround my motionless form.  A few faces I recognized under the filth and rotted skin.  Most I didn't.  But they all knew me and began to attack me in a frenzy.  Their cries of condemnation filled my ears as their jagged nails raked my already bleeding and damaged skin.  I did nothing to stop them.  I could do nothing, and even if I could, didn't I deserve this?  Didn't I deserve every blow and curse?  Isn't this my punishment for living the way I did?  For killing as many as I did?
    So I lay there taking it all.  It hurt.  It hurt worse than anything I've ever felt. And I wanted to escape, but knew I never would.
    And then I did.  Just like that.  I woke with a strangled gasp, and my mouth was instantly filled with loose dirt.  I struggled frantically, amazed that the pain was gone and that I could control my limbs.  The legion of dead was gone.  I pulled myself out of the trembling earth.  Namek… I was back on Namek.  But how?  How was it possible?  The dragon balls were gone!  I'd seen it myself.  I saw them turn into utterly round white stones.  I saw the eternal dragon vanish like a puff of smoke.
    Then I felt it.
    Power, such power as I'd never felt before.  And it wasn't coming from Frieza alone.  I headed to the source and my heart nearly shattered, making my death and all that happened shortly after seem pleasant.
    Kakarotto was the Super Saiyan.
    I felt tears of rage and bitterness burning my eyes and quickly banished them.  Tears never helped.  They only showed weakness.  I had to find out how he'd done it!  It had to be a fluke, after all.  I was meant to be the Super Saiyan, not that Earth-raised baka!
    And then I was on Earth.  At first I thought I'd somehow died again, but I knew where I would have ended up again, so that thought was quickly dismissed.  Then I saw Bulma and Gohan and the Nameks.  And it all became clear.  They had used dragon balls somehow.  There was no other explanation.

    I came back to the present with a sigh.  No matter what happens, even if I save this wretched planet from the brink of destruction, it won't matter.  One small planet would never make up for all I've destroyed.
    She was right after all.  I am afraid to die.

The End