Oh, Me
By: Kichi
DISCLAIMER: Draginball Z belongs to Akira Toriyama. NOT ME!!!
This is a B/V get together fic. Well, they already had
Trunks and it's after Cell and before Majin Buu. So Son Goku is dead
and Bulma has noticed that Vegeta is in a serious funk. Maybe a little
OOCness but considering things, I don't really think so.
Vegeta fell to his knees with a groan as the gravity
powered down. He had really overdone it today, and for what?
He was Super Saiyan now, and it wasn't as if he could finally have his
long-awaited fight against Kakarotto.
No, the baka had given his life to save the day. And what had
he done during this whole episode? He'd been laying in the dirt,
senseless after Cell's hammering blows.
He tried to calm his breathing. If he didn't stop gasping like
a landed fish, he'd pass out, he was already getting dizzy.
He was so tired. How did he let himself get
so run down? He hadn't slept more than two hours each night for the
past, going on three weeks and now it was catching up on him. He
felt like he could easily fall asleep on the cold metal floor of the Gravity
room. But no. He would sleep in his bed after he ate.
He'd forgotten to do that more than a few times in the past week alone.
And he couldn't even give a valid reason as to why something like food
would just slip his mind. It never had before, at least, not
for many, many years.
He didn't want to think about that though.
He was finally starting to get over some parts of his past, but the only
way that was possible was if he didn't think about it!
He shook his head and staggered to his feet.
He yawned, stretched, and rubbed his eyes before opening the door and stumbling
outside. He didn't care if anyone saw him. He didn't care if
he was hurting all over and looked like he'd just had his ass whipped.
He briefly considered a shower to maybe take some of the tension out of
his tired muscles, but when he thought of having to stand there in the
warm spray..
He shook his head with a small sigh. He would
most likely fall asleep standing up and fall face first into the faucet.
He could just see blood spurting from his nose on impact. He yawned
again, his jaw cracking. He shuffled into the kitchen.
His stomach had begun to growl as soon as he spotted
the refrigerator but as he opened the door and looked inside he saw nothing
that didn't turn his stomach. He sighed again and rubbed his forehead.
He poured a large glass of milk and drank it quickly and mercifully, the
pain in his stomach ceased. Hopefully he'd be asleep before his stomach
growled again.
Gods he was exhausted! How had this happened?
He knew better than to let this happen anymore. But it was better
not to think about it. He'd go to sleep and sleep he would, for a
day at least. And when he woke, he'd be dying to eat.
He stopped outside the bathroom. The AC was
on and the sweat that still clung to his skin was cold. It felt incredibly
disgusting and he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, even as tired as he
was, if he was going to climb under the sheets dirty.
He'd just have to make it as fast as possible.
He closed the door behind him and slid the lock
into place with an audible click. He stripped off his training shorts
and stepped into the shower. The water shot out of the faucet as
cold as ice and he grimaced, his body slightly trembling. Then it
began to heat up and he sighed in relief, found the soap and began to scrub.
He felt himself swaying on his feet as he rinsed
the shampoo from his hair. He turned the water off and roughly toweled
his hair and wrapped the towel around his waist before walking back into
the hall.
And who else stood outside the door but the baka
onna. Bracing himself for her unearthly howling he didn't expect
what came next.
"Are you alright?" she asked softly her voice laced
with concern.
"Mind you own business." He said, sounding far more
tired than he hoped and not the least bit threatening. Whatever she
had planned to say was muffled by his door slamming in her face.
Instead of getting angry Bulma frowned, staring at the closed door.
She wasn't even convinced she should get mad. Instead she felt worry
gnaw at the pit of her stomach as she slowly made her way to her room.
Something had been bothering Vegeta for awhile now.
She wasn't quite sure how long but she began to notice his odd behavior
a few weeks after Son Kun…
She checked a sigh. Goku had done what he
thought best. Although leaving behind his wife and son didn't seem
like the very best thing to do, but he must have known that ChiChi was
strong enough to do without him, but still. She remembered ChiChi's
face when she was told the news.
Her face had gone stark white but instead of just fainting like she
usually did, she went absolutely crazy. Bulma had been so relieved
that Gohan had been out training at the time.
ChiChi had immediately began to weep and scream.
Then she began to methodically trash her house. Bulma tried to stop
her as she punched holes through every paper screen in the house.
She broke windows and dishes and threw the television through the picture
glass window. She threw all Son Kun's clothes out the window and
dashed out onto the lawn after the pile and began to ignite it.
Bulma had difficulty remembering it all. She
had never seen ChiChi so out of control. Half their belongings were
destroyed. ChiChi stood in front of Goku's burning belongings with
an utterly blank expression and watched it all burn. Bulma had been
at a loss the whole night. What could she say? She was scared.
She was scared to even offer ChiChi comfort. Who knew what she would
do? So instead of trying to give her a hug she just stood silently
by her side and watched as all of Goku's things burned.
Coming back to the present with a start she realized
that Vegeta was also upset about Goku's decision but for an altogether
different reason. He didn't miss his rival, he missed the chance
to beat him and prove his superiority once and for all. She slowly
began to brush her long, blue locks.
She was really starting to worry about him.
He had been training like crazy but each time she saw him at the end of
the night he looked.. defeated. Then she noticed that he was missing
meals. She even went so far as to ask he mother if he'd been taking
his lunches in the GR. He mother had been quick to reply that she
hadn't seen him in over a week.
That was yesterday. And now he practically
was dragging his feet down the hall. What the hell was going on?
She had known Goku the longest out of everyone, yet she didn't begrudge
his decision. If he thought it would be for the best if he wasn't
wished back then he was probably right. It wasn't that she didn't
miss him, because she did. Sometimes she would just remember his
goofy smile or his "pat-pats" and she would feel tears coming to her eyes
when she would realize that he was really gone.
But she could obviously deal better than some people.
She threw her brush down with a huff. What could she do? Vegeta
didn't want her sympathy, he would probably be offended if she even hinted
that he was slightly upset. But she had to do something. He
was the father of their child and even if he didn't give a shit about her,
she cared about him.
Decision made, she quickly stood and made her way
to Vegeta's room only to find him tossing in bed. She sighed but
instead of returning to her own bed she sat down on the edge of his and
stared at the sleeping Saiyan no Ouji. What am I going to do? She
asked herself again. Staring at his sleeping face only brought more
questions. He had obviously not been sleeping much. The skin
under his eyes was decidedly darker than usual and she even mused that
his face looked a little thinner.
"Vegeta.." she sighed and against her better judgment
she lean forward and touched his cheek.
Instantly his eyes snapped open.
"Oh my God." He gasped, his eyes staring forward.
"It's just me." She said quietly. He didn't
even move of give an acknowledging grunt. But merely closed his eyes and
seconds later his breathing slowed and deepened. He must really
be out of it. She mused.
She stood and stretched. She wanted to wake
him up and talk to him, but it was obvious that he would be out for awhile.
She trudged back to her room feeling a little defeated.
He slept for two days. When he woke at last he felt like he was going to vomit. His stomach was grinding and churning angrily, loudly demanding to be filled. He glanced at the bedside clock as he rose. 4:32. Damn. He quickly dressed and stumbled down the stairs to the kitchen and proceeded to gorge himself.
Bulma entered the kitchen to see Vegeta staring at
his empty plate.
"Hungry?" she asked. He slowly shook his head.
"Going to train?" he shrugged. Bulma frowned and opened the refrigerator.
Nearly bare. Now she had to say what was on her mind.
"So what the hell is wrong with you?" she asked coldly, knowing full well
that making him angry was going to be the only way to get a word out of
him. He glared at her but remained silent. "Look I know you
have been denied your revenge. Again. But is that any reason
to mope about it?" she said, carefully distant. His face quickly
contorted in rage and she stepped back as fear suddenly filled her.
She'd never seen such a hateful expression on his face, let alone directed
at her.
"Don't talk to me." He said quietly. Bulma
blinked and snarled.
"Fuck you, jerk!" she yelled her face flushing.
"I am only worried about you! Why do you have to be such a fucking prick?"
"SHUT UP!!" Vegeta screamed and suddenly, to her
absolute shock and horror, he grabbed his knife and plunged it into his
own hand. Bulma stood there for a second, utter shock obvious in her expression.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" she screamed.
"ARE YOU NUTS?" she dashed over to his side and reached for the knife,
but he pushed her to the ground. Not deliberately trying to hurt
her, but hard enough to send her sprawling.
Without hesitating she leapt to her feet and dove
at him, trying to grab the knife and get it away from him before he stabbed
himself again. All the while her thoughts were in a panic.
But he didn't move when she grabbed the blade. His face was blank.
Almost calm. "Why Vegeta?" she cried as she tried to grasp the blood
soaked blade. Tears began to spill down her face.
"Why?" he murmured, and she felt his hand brush
the tears from her cheeks. She ignored him and was about to pull
the blade out when she remembered her CPR lessons. She left the blade
where it was and dashed into the kitchen to grab a towel.
She scurried back to his side at the table where
he still sat oblivious to her concern. He stared at the blood that
was still pouring from his mangled hand with no expression. Then
he breathed a long, deep sigh of relief.
She wrapped his hand in a towel.
"Hold this." She snapped. When he made no
move to comply her fear and frustration reached its peak. "DO IT!"
she screamed. His head slowly turned to look at her and he stared.
Without flinching she met his gaze and he slowly placed his undamaged hand
on the towel.
"Why are you crying?" he asked softly.
"I'm not!" Bulma yelled and grabbed his arm in an
attempt to haul him to his feet. He gave another soft sigh and stood,
the chair loudly scraping against the floor. Bulma immediately began
to tug him towards the front door.
"Where are you taking me, onna?" he murmured.
"To the hospital you moron!" Bulma practically screamed.
Vegeta didn't even flinch at the volume. "I can't believe you just
did that to yourself! What were you thinking?"
"I'm not mad anymore." He said with that same dreamlike
quality.
"Your on drugs." Bulma snapped. "You are totally
fucked up!" she pulled out a car capsule and threw it at the ground as
hard as she could. He stopped in his tracks causing Bulma, who was
still latched to his arm, to stumble.
"I am not on drugs." He said his voice still not
rising.
"Well then what the hell is wrong with you?!" Bulma
exploded. More tears flowed and she briefly wondered why she was
crying so much. She got into the car and slammed her door before
shoving the passenger door wide. "Get your ass in here now!" she
screamed. Vegeta mutely complied and continued to stare at the blue
haired human as she fumbled with her keys.
"Why are you crying?" he asked again. She threw
her keys at the windshield.
"Vegeta! You aren't stupid! Figure it out!"
she cried. "You are fucking driving me crazy! I am going to
have gray hair in a year because of you Vegeta! GRAY HAIR!!" he blinked
in amazement as she began to cry harder. "I'm sorry." She mumbled
hurriedly and wiped away her tears angrily. Suddenly she felt his
hands on her waist. Before she could react she was sitting in his
lap.
"Bulma." He said staring into her eyes. She
felt a few more tears fall and cursed silently when he grimaced slightly
at the sight. "Why are you crying?" with a strangled sob she
threw herself in his arms. She was amazed to feel his arms encircle
her as well and squeeze.
"I'm worried about you, jerk!" she whimpered burying
her face in his neck. He brushed the hair away from the side of her
face and kissed her cheek. With surprising speed Bulma turned to
face him and placed her lips on his.
She felt him jump in surprise, but she leaned forward
and grabbed a fistful of spiky locks and slid her tongue in his mouth.
He squeezed her and his tongue glided across hers, his free hand slid under
her shirts and bra to cup her breast.
"Vegeta!" Bulma gasped. "We still have to
go to the hospital, your hand-" he tore the towel off his hand and before
she could make any move to stop him, he tore the knife out. She could
see the blood gush more freely. "No! That's making it worse!" she
cried before he lifted up her shirt and bra and began to lick her nipple.
"Vegeta.." she whimpered and he began to tug at her jeans. "Please,
I'll do whatever you want when we get back!" he growled. "No!
Your getting blood all over my car! Doesn't it hurt?" he gave
a deep sigh and sat up.
"You better do everything I want woman." He said
without a trace of sarcasm. But he allowed her to climb back into
the drivers seat and start her car after rearranging her clothes.
TBC…