Learning
The waiting room went utterly silent as all eyes
fixed on the doctor. Goku took a half-step forward, the fear and hope
fluttering his eyes almost painful to witness.
"Goten...? How is he?"
Dr. Marlin inhaled slowly, then lifted her eyes
to his and gave him a small, tight smile. "Goten... is surviving. At this
point we can’t say anything definite about the state his mind is in or what the
damage is, but we’ve got him stable. Assuming nothing else goes wrong, I think
it’s safe to say that your son is going to live through this."
Cries and murmurs of relief traveled across the
room. Gohan leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. Videl laughed through
her tears, getting up to embrace her husband. Trunks sagged in his seat, wiping
at his eyes even as a tremulous smile touched his lips. Cheers and hugs and
thankful whispers came from all corners. Goku bowed his head, pressing his fist
to his lips for a moment to compose himself.
Dr. Marlin had waited for everyone to finish
expressing their relief, only continuing when Goku once again met her eyes.
"But," she said, a gentle note of warning in her voice, "we
won’t know for some time yet how his mental capabilities have been affected.
For now, I think it’s amazing that he’s survived this at all. It’s like his
body has a super-human ability to endure staggering damage and is working to
repair itself at an accelerated rate... It’s simply remarkable, actually."
The doctor blinked, shaking herself away from a topic that clearly fascinated
her and focusing on the task at hand. "In any case, it will be days before
we can begin to get an accurate idea of how his mind is reacting to this
trauma. Just know for now that all signs point to his survival, and please try
to be patient during the examinations that will follow."
Goku nodded, wiping quickly at his eyes.
"He... Is he... I mean... Can I see him...?"
The doctor gave him a kind, weary smile, pushing
loose strands of hair out of her eyes and nodding. "He’s in intensive
care, of course, and we can’t allow you to remain too long just yet, but small
groups of you can go in together to see him. They’re just moving him to room
121, on the floor just above this one, to the right. Please keep it to two or
three at a time, and make certain not to disturb him."
Nodding, Goku immediately headed for the door,
Vejiita following quietly in his wake, much to the consternation of certain
people in the room. They rode the elevator in silence, Vejiita respecting
Goku’s distraction and not bothering him. As soon as the doors open they walked
quickly into the hallway. Goten’s room was only a few doors down.
They entered the room quietly, and Vejiita’s
eyes fell on the bed. Goten looked alarmingly small, hooked up to machines and
monitors and IV’s, thick swathes of white bandaging around his head. What could
be seen of his face was deathly pale, even his lips nearly colorless, his
eyelashes dark streaks of black against his cheekbones. Extending his senses
slightly, Vejiita observed that the boy’s ki was dangerously low, but stable.
He seemed terribly fragile.
He heard Kakarrot’s low, sharp intake of breath,
his eyes flickering briefly to the taller Saiya-jin. Tears had filled Goku’s
eyes again but didn’t fall, glimmering brightly in the lowered lights of the
room. Vejiita stood back as he slowly approached the bed, tentatively reaching
out, brushing Goten’s hand with his fingertips. He bowed his head for a moment
and Vejiita looked away, feeling uncomfortably like he was invading Kakarrot’s
privacy and should leave.
After a moment he returned his gaze to father
and son, seeing that Kakarrot had taken Goten’s hand into his completely,
holding it gently as if afraid he might break it. Shakily, he drew a small
chair forward and sank down on it, not releasing Goten’s hand, staring at the
boy’s face. An expression of agony crossed his features, and he slowly bowed
his head, pressing his face to the edge of the bed.
Frowning slightly, Vejiita opened his mind to
Kakarrot’s, feeling a rush of fear and grief, intermingled with hope. He
stepped forward slightly.
"No, Kakarrot."
Goku tensed briefly, as if he’d forgotten
Vejiita was there, then turned to look at him, pain-filled eyes questioning.
"Remember what I told you. You cannot give
in to your grief or your doubt. I know you feel it. I know you can’t help it,
but you must suppress it. Fill your mind with... your love for Goten and your
confidence in him, and project that to him the best that you can."
Goku looked at Goten again, pressing his lips
together, before once more meeting Vejiita’s eyes.
"I... I don’t know how, Vejiita," he
confessed defeatedly, his voice low and tired. "I don’t understand these
things like you do, I don’t know what you mean."
Vejiita paused, his brows drawing together
thoughtfully. He hadn’t considered that. It hadn’t occurred to him that of
course Kakarrot wasn’t as sure of himself and his empathy, he had never had the
skill developed as a child, never been taught how to use it. He’d never thought
about it, as the other Saiya-jin seemed to have no problem when it applied to
himself. He latched onto that thought.
"But, Kakarrot, surely you have..."
here he blushed very faintly, "been aware of my emotions, my feelings at
times."
Goku bit his lip slightly, his eyes considering,
before he nodded. "Yes, I know I have, but... I still, I... never knew how
I was doing it. And it’s not very common at all. I could probably count the
times that it’s happened. I could never control it, I just thought it had
something to do with the time we fused to become Vegetto or something."
Vejiita nodded distractedly, slightly flustered
by the topic. "Ugh," he grunted, "Yes, that has something to do
with it. In any case, every Saiya-jin will form bonds of this sort during their
lifetime, given the opportunity. You can only rarely feel my emotions because,
firstly, you don’t know how to intentionally receive them, and I also know how
to keep them to myself and do so without conscious effort for the most part.
You, on the other hand," he said, a faint, wry smile twisting his lips,
"are very easy for me to read, should I care to put my mind to it."
Goku blinked at him, a light blush starting in
his cheeks.
"That is because you were never taught, nor
had any reason to shield your mind from others. You are nearly always
open." Vejiita refrained from mentioning how amazing he had thought it
when he had first encountered the other Saiya-jin. Then he glanced at Goku’s
face and amazed himself by releasing a short, bitten off laugh. "Oh, don’t
look at me like that, Kakarrot, you don’t have to worry. When we learn how to
shield our own emotions we also learn how to block those of others. I have not
often ‘listened’ to your feelings. I have never liked to do it..."
He trailed off, his face darkening. He had never
wanted to know the feelings of others, for fear they might weaken him.
"You do have the ability to do all of this,
though," he continued, "whether or not you realize it. When I first
arrived at the hospital, your mind was completely closed. You had drawn in and
protected yourself without realizing it."
Goku’s eyes widened slightly. "I didn’t
know..." he began.
Vejiita nodded, waving off his words. "I
know you didn’t. I merely mean to point out that you can do it, it’s
just a matter of understanding."
He paused and looked at the other Saiya-jin
consideringly. Goku gazed back at him, his dark eyes tired and pained, but
willing to listen.
"Kakarrot," he said quietly after a
moment, "I want you to try and relax your mind. I know that sounds
strange, but... try to imagine letting any.... doors... in your mind open, so
you can receive. I’m going to send you an emotion, don’t be
alarmed."
Goku nodded, taking a slow breath and closing
his eyes briefly. He looked at Vejiita again. "I’m ready."
Vejiita’s teeth came together as he consciously
allowed the emotions this event had caused to come forth, latching onto the
foremost, the loudest and most overpowering, and projecting it.
Anger.
He watched Goku stiffen slightly, his eyes
widening as he stared at Vejiita. "I... Anger. Lots of it... That... was
very strong."
Vejiita nodded curtly, looking down for a moment
as he firmly reined in that emotion, before it became dangerous. Even he was
vaguely surprised at its strength, pushing it far back into his mind again.
"Yes, it would be strong. I have never consciously sent you any emotion
before, it’s much more powerful that way then when one is ‘eavesdropping’, so
to speak."
He moved forward to stand beside the other
Saiya-jin, glancing down at Goten’s unconscious form.
"You can do it as well, Kakarrot. You can
send your emotions to him, and he will almost certainly receive them. Because I
intentionally sent the anger to you, you would probably have picked it up even
without trying. It should be the same for Goten. It is not difficult. Just... press
your feelings toward him. Extend your mind and... wrap them around him."
Goku frowned, leaning forward in his chair
slightly. He drew a breath, and after a moment his eyes fluttered closed. A
look of intense concentration tightened his features, and he leaned toward the
boy on the bed. Lightly brushing against his mind, Vejiita’s eyebrows arched
and he frowned.
"No, stop Kakarrot, wait..."
The younger Saiya-jin released a pent-up breath
before turning to look at him, despair in his eyes. "I’m doing it
wrong...?"
"You’re trying too hard," the prince
responded, his eyes moving slowly over Goten’s unconscious features.
"Perhaps ‘press’ is the wrong word. Just... open yourself to him,
you don’t need to exhaust yourself trying to shove your feelings at him.
It’s... hard to describe, but just release your barriers... Just... love
him."
Goku nodded, drawing in a slow breath and
visibly forcing himself to relax. After a moment he closed his eyes lightly,
his hand lightly covering Goten’s, and became very still. Reaching out with his
own mind once more, Vejiita brushed against him, and this time was able to feel
the beginnings of a rapport between father and son, though he could not break
into it. Nor did he wish to.
Slowly, he stepped away from the other
Saiya-jin, moving into the background where he felt like less of an intruder.
Turning away from the emotional family scene, he gazed quietly out between the
blinds of the hospital window, watching as the sky outside slowly deepened into
twilight.
He didn’t know how long it had been when the
nurse opened the door to tell them that their time was up and they needed to
let him rest now.
Silently, he moved to the door, just catching
the tail end of Goku’s comment to his son.
"-be here, I promise. I love you."
The intimacy of the whole situation made him
feel strangely embarrassed, and he shifted his weight awkwardly, not looking at
the other Saiya-jin as Goku made his way from Goten’s bed toward him. They exited
the room without speaking, beginning to make their way back to the others. Just
before they walked back into the stuffy, stilted atmosphere of the waiting
room, Goku touched Vejiita’s arm, halting him.
The prince hesitated briefly, then lifted his
eyes to meet the other Saiya-jin’s gaze.
"I..." Goku began, then paused, his
eyes searching. "Thank you, Vejiita... For everything, I... Thanks."
Vejiita nearly cursed as he felt the foolish
warmth rise in his cheeks, averting his gaze. He was already heading toward the
door again as he mumbled, half under his breath, "It was nothing,
Kakarrot."
*****
And, for the next minutes, hours, days, there
was little to do but wait. Vejiita rarely returned home, spending most of his
time at the hospital, inconspicuously in the background, a silent pillar of
support. It seemed very strange to him, how so many of Goku’s friends and
family kept turning to him for advice or guidance, or, most oddly, just to
talk. Gohan was his frequent visitor, the young doctor’s nerves often frayed
and his resources spent as he struggled to focus on doing his job while
worrying for his brother. It was a source of dry amusement to him that Videl
came every once in a while to ask after Gohan, and get an outside perspective
on her husband’s state of mind. Piccolo had sought him out once or twice,
simply looking for someone to speak with who could be relied upon to be solid,
and, if not entirely emotionless, than at least firmly in control of those
emotions. Goku himself did not speak to Vejiita so often, but he didn’t speak
to anyone else a great deal either, spending long stretches of time at Goten’s
bedside.
Now Vejiita looked up as new footsteps
approached the bench where he sat by himself, lost in quiet contemplation. One
eyebrow arched as his lips twisted very faintly in a wry half-smile. Here was a
new one to add to the list.
Pan was heading toward him, her dark eyes
troubled.
He settled himself, patiently waiting for
whatever question or worry she had for him and wondering idly why she would ask
him instead of her father or mother.
He was not prepared for her sudden forwardness.
The young girl didn’t pause as she reached him,
instead crawling up onto the bench to plop down next to him and rest against
his side, her cheek on his chest. Vejiita startled, unable to suppress the
surprised reaction, his eyes widening as he stared down at the top of Pan’s
head.
He shifted uncomfortably, ever so slightly away
from her, but she was undeterred.
"What are you doing, brat?" he asked,
realizing in irritation even as he said it that there was no forcefulness to
the question at all, instead bewilderment lacing his tone. Even the word ‘brat’
was entirely mild.
The girl sighed, seeming completely unworried as
she settled comfortably against him. "Everyone’s busy," she mumbled.
"I was all by myself."
Vejiita continued to stare down at her, as
though his mind couldn’t quite fully grasp that there was a small child
cuddling up to him.
"Your mother and father?" he heard
himself say stupidly.
"They’re too worried about Uncle
Goten," Pan replied. "They’re doing lots of things. I didn’t want to
bother them."
"Well, I, uh," Vejiita fumbled,
"did you want anything?"
Pan shook her head slightly, her eyes falling
closed as she began to sag a little bit, her cheek sliding on his chest.
"I’m... a little sleepy."
Vejiita opened his mouth, struggling for
something to say, but found that nothing would come out properly. It took no
more than a few minutes for Pan to be soundly asleep against his chest. He
gazed down at her, watching her slow, even breathing and feeling the steady
rhythm of her heart, and felt a sudden pang somewhere low within him. He
wondered what it would have been like, to have a daughter...
Slowly, very gradually, his hand slid from the
back of the bench and hung in the air, indecisive and hesitant. Then, seemingly
independent of any conscious decision, he ran the pad of his thumb over the
soft curve of the girl’s cheek, ever so lightly. Her skin still had that perfect,
silky fragility of the very young. Unblemished innocence.
It pained him, suddenly, and he closed his eyes,
turning his face away from the image of the child curled against him. He had
never been that young. Never been that innocent. Even when he had been her age,
he had been so much older... The regret that stung him was thin and bitter,
overlaid with blood-red threads of guilt. It had been his mission to destroy
innocence, never preserve it.
Don’t think on it now.
There would be time enough to face his own
action later. Time enough for self-pity when he was away from here. Firmly, he
pushed the feelings back.
*****
It was some time later that he seemed to sense a
ripple through the air, an energy, and he lifted his head, wondering how much
time had past. He had withdrawn into himself, ignoring the routine going-ons
around him in favor of allowing Pan her rest, and himself his solitude. Now
that subtle energy rippled against his awareness, and he tapped Pan’s shoulder
with his fingertips, nudging her slightly. She mumbled, flexing against him and
smacking her lips a bit.
"Wake up, girl," he said quietly,
gripping her shoulder now to give her a light shake. "Something’s
happening."
She was blinking, slowly pulling away from him
to sit up, her cheek red and creased where it had been pressed against his
shirt for so long.
"What?" she said thickly, rubbing at
her eyes, "What’s happening?"
"I don’t know yet," the prince
replied, "but sitting here isn’t going to help us find out."
He pulled his arm back to his side from where it
had been resting against the back of the bench, frowning a little as his
shoulder cracked stiffly from being in the same position too long. He got to
his feet, stretching briefly, his tail unfurling and his muscles tightening as
he bared his teeth briefly. Cracking his knuckles, he headed down the hallway,
not looking to see if Pan was following.
"Hey!" the girl cried, and he heard
her running footsteps a moment later, pattering on the tile floor. "Wait
for me!"
He glanced back over his shoulder, lifting an
eyebrow with a slight smirk. "Keep up then, brat."
"I am not a brat!" she said
indignantly, arriving at his side and hitting his arm with a closed fist.
"I’m a good girl."
"Of course you are," he said condescendingly,
lips still curved in a slight smile as he looked around carefully.
"I am!" she declared, slipping around
to walk behind him. He ignored her, not slowing his pace, until he suddenly
felt her arms wrap around his waist, her cheek pressed to his back, and became
aware that he was now dragging her.
"Give me a ride!" the girl giggled,
still letting her feet trail behind her on the floor as Vejiita continued
walking.
"Girl," Vejiita snorted wryly,
"you can fly. Why should I give you a ride?"
"Because," Pan said confidently,
"I’m your favorite niece, and you should be nice to me."
Vejiita blinked. When did she become my
niece? And, while they were on that subject, when in the hell had she taken
such a liking to him?
"Well," he said after a moment,
"In that case..."
Reaching around behind him, he hooked his arm
around her waist and lifted her, carrying her at his side like a sack of
potatoes, arms and legs dangling.
"Hey!" she squealed, "I didn’t
mean like this!"
Vejiita shrugged. "It helps to be specific."
She kicked, her fingers clenching in a handful
of the denim covering his thigh to keep herself from plopping forward onto her
face.
Her futile struggling continued as he moved
closer to Goten’s room, no longer paying attention to the squirming child under
his arm. When they were about ten yards from the doorway, he set her down,
briefly covering her mouth with his palm.
"Quiet now, brat," he near-whispered.
She fell silent, something in his tone
communicating seriousness to her, and he advanced the rest of the way toward
the room, pausing in the doorway to glance inside. It seemed to be one of the
few times that there was not someone constantly at Goten’s side; the room was
empty but for the demi-Saiya-jin lying quiet and still on the bed. Vejiita
focused on the boy’s form, letting his awareness expand outward to touch the
other’s essence. His lips parted quietly.
Goten’s ki was rippling, threads and spirals of
energy skittering along invisible lines around him. Unseen, the patterns and
forces that identified his ki, his awareness, were fluctuating. The energy that
had for so many days been a mere glimmer was brightening, strengthening,
dangerous gaps pulling together and reknitting.
On the bed, Goten shifted and a very soft,
barely audible moan issued from his lips.
A thread of something almost like excitement
touched Vejiita, and for a long moment he simply stared in amazement, watching
with his senses. Then he realized abruptly that there was someone else who came
before he did.
His eyes lost focus as he let his awareness
expand further, encompassing the entire floor of the hospital, and downwards,
to the first level. The other Saiya-jin was there, absent for only a short
moment to find something to eat, a few moments rest.
For a moment Vejiita hovered, not touching. It
lasted only a second, though, and then he "knocked" on the other’s
mind. There was a brief feeling of startlement, and then recognition and a
questioning.
Kakarrot... Come.
The acknowledgment came swiftly, and Vejiita
closed off their connection, remaining in Goten’s doorway as he awaited the
other’s arrival. He did not have to wait long.
Only minutes later, Kakarrot was rounding the
corner, brushing his hands nervously on his jeans. His normally bright eyes had
dulled in the past several days, dark shadows beneath his eyes and his cheeks
slightly hollow. Hair that was already wild was even more unkept now, and his
clothing looked slept in. But, at that moment, for the first time in a long
time, there was more than feeble hope in his gaze.
"I- Vejiita," he said as he
approached, glancing to the side with hopeful apprehension, "I heard you,
what-"
"Sshh, Kakarrot," Vejiita replied,
quietly, lifting his hand to stop the other’s tremulous speech. "Come here
and look."
The other Saiya-jin obeyed, with the slightest
hesitation, his footsteps cautious as he approached the doorway, peering in
from the opposite side to the prince.
"Can you feel it? See it?" Vejiita
asked very softly.
Kakarrot’s gaze focused intently on his son’s
quiet form, looking with something other than his eyes. And the his eyes
widened and his lips parted in a silent gasp. For a long, long moment, he
didn’t move or speak, and then his startled gaze leapt to Vejiita’s in unspoken
question.
The prince nodded slightly and he looked past
the other Saiya-jin to the boy once more. "Yes," he said, softly,
"Yes."
"Oh," Kakarrot said after another long
moment, and his voice was alarmingly weak, almost thready.
Vejiita looked at him to find that the taller
man was sagging weakly against the doorframe, clutching it tightly as if he
needed it’s support. He said nothing, merely waiting for the other Saiya-jin to
wrap his mind around what was occurring. A short, soft laugh shook Kakarrot’s
shoulders, and he lifted his head to look at the prince once more. His eyes
were damp with tears, but there was a slowly growing smile on his lips, and a
flare of joy overwhelming the lifelessness of his gaze.
"Grandpa...?" Pan said, unable to keep
silent any longer from where she stood behind Vejiita. "What’s wrong,
what’s... what’s happening?"
Kakarrot looked down at her, seeming to notice
her for the first time, and his smile widened, even as the tears began to spill
down his cheeks. He chuckled softly, reaching out to ruffle her dark hair.
"Your uncle is getting better," he
said softly, a deep happiness threaded all through his voice.
Pan’s eyes widened. "Unc- Uncle
Goten?!"
Kakarrot nodded, and the girl gave a little
squeak, jumping up and down and clapping her hands.
Another low, deep moan from the boy on the bed
snapped all of their attention back to the room, and Kakarrot turned abruptly
to step inside, quickly walking to his son’s side. Pan trotted after him, her
eyes huge as she held onto his shirt with one hand.
Kakarrot reached out, his hand smoothing Goten’s
hair back from his face very gently. Vejiita watched from the doorway in
silence as the other Saiya-jin took his son’s hand and called his name softly.
The hand Kakarrot held tightened fractionally
and Goten’s body stirred with the faintest movement.
Kakarrot spoke his name again, and, as Vejiita
watched, Goten’s eyes slowly opened.
*****
The hospital room was crowded now, alight with
hushed laughter and grateful tears, the low murmur of voices. Flowers and
balloons were stuck in corners and on tables where ever they would fit, and
piles of cards continued to arrive as the news of Goten’s waking spread. It was
evening now, the hour slowly approaching nine o’clock, and all of Goten’s
family and closest friends were trying to squeeze into his hospital room.
Right now the boy was seated in his bed, which
had been raised to a partially upright position. He was weak and colorless, his
movements sluggish and his speech slurred, but he was awake. And he recognized
them, all of them. He did not remember everything that had happened, but pieces
were coming back to him slowly, and the doctors were optimistic. Goku had not
left his son’s side for more than a moment since he had wakened, and was seated
there even now as Gohan, Videl, and Piccolo spoke gently and clearly to Goten.
Everyone else stood in groups waiting their
turn, talking excitedly and animatedly. Everyone was smiling.
Vejiita was not smiling, as he watched the
activity from the corner, but he was not frowning either. He was simply
observing, his expression unreadable to any who looked at him.
And what he noticed, as he watched, was the way
the group pulled together and drew each other in with their mutual happiness
and friendship. When someone new arrived they were immediately welcomed and
dragged into some conversation or another as everyone celebrated Goten’s
return. Trunks had immediately melded into the bunch when he had arrived,
breathless and flushed with happiness. Even Yamcha was pleasant and
conversational with everyone.
Kakarrot welcomed each new arrival with
painfully sincere happiness, pleased to share his joy with all of these friends
that he had known for so long. There were hugs and kisses being given and
received everywhere there was room for them, laughing and crying, just short of
hysterics.
And Vejiita realized he had never seen such a
complete and sincere expression of happiness from such a group. Untainted by
any darker emotion or petty squabbling. Completely whole.
It lacked nothing.
The realization came to him quietly, and its
taste was bittersweet. They lacked nothing.
Moving slowly, quietly, the prince retrieved his
jacket from where he had tossed it over the back of a chair, having removed it
as the room heated with new arrivals. He pulled it on carefully, walking
softly, close to the wall to edge around the large number of individuals in the
room. Juuhachigo stepped aside to let him past at the one point where there was
no room to squeeze through, and he nodded to her silently.
A short minute later he stepped out into the
hallways of the hospital, the air suddenly cooler and brisker, freed from the
stifling confines of the overcrowded room. Adjusting his jacket, he shoved his
hands through his hair and straightened his shirt. His steps then carried him quietly
down the hallway, toward the elevator.
Goten was awake now, and he would heal, there
was no longer any doubt. He had given Kakarrot all the advice that he needed to
help the boy along; there was nothing left to do there.
The elevator door chimed open and he stepped
inside, pushing the button for the ground floor.
They were all together up there, now. They were
a family, complete and reunited. Kakarrot had support and friendship on all
sides, he was fairly brimming with happiness. The group was tight and seamless.
Vejiita exited the elevator, walking out into
the lobby of the hospital, moving past the humans silently. The doors were
straight ahead.
His presence was that of the outsider, the one
piece of the group that didn’t quite mesh with the others. The darker spot
amidst the light. What a silly thing it would be for him to stay, and how
selfish. Something that wasn’t required of him, and he didn’t really want.
The prince hit the doors, pushing them open and
stepping outside, resisting the impulse to look back.
He was no longer needed.
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