One Wish Part V

As soon as he was halfway up in the air, Vegeta noticed the blood dripping down his boot. He was confused at first, then he remembered the giant bird. He had been pretty distracted when it scratched him. Now he was nothing but embarrassed. How could he let a damn toucan injure him? The whole thing was ridiculous, and he just knew that Bulma was watching from Otherworld, laughing at his expense. He was doing a lot of things and going a lot places that he wouldn’t normally go. Cursing, he pulled out the radar. The Dragonball in the desert was still the closest, but he didn’t want to confront Yamcha all bloodied up. He zoomed out, and noticed one near Kakarrot’s house. Strange...Then he remembered that it was the 4 star ball. Gohan had mentioned something about holding onto it. Apparently that ball was a family heirloom now. It was perfect. If he went there, he could take care of the scratch. He tried to look at it, but it was high on his side, almost under his arm, and difficult to see. When he noticed the slash through his leather jacket, he cursed again. It was Bulma’s favorite one on him. He didn’t normally wear clothes with her in mind, but whenever he wore this jacket, she paid him special attention. It was the kind of attention that he liked. Oh well. He looked good in everything he wore.
The blood was seeping through the jacket, and when he peeled it off he sucked in a breath. Damn. That feathered bastard had gotten him worse than he thought. The cut was deep and bleeding profusely. Saiyan blood was thick, so it would slow down soon. But it made him angry. He was much too strong of a warrior to be bleeding this much over a bird. Now he was almost ashamed to go to Gohan’s house. However, it couldn’t be helped. He had to get that Dragonball.

He flew across the ocean with one hand pressed against his side. The cool air also helped slow the bleeding down. He passed the Old Turtle Hermit’s house, but flew by quickly. He couldn’t stand being around him from very long. The man was disgusting, and always had his eyes on Bulma. Gohan’s place was a straight shot northeast from the Hermit’s. It would only take him a few more minutes.

When he landed in their backyard, Gohan was already at the door. He could sense Vegeta from pretty far off, and since he had been putting on full speed, he was easy to detect.  
“Hey, Vegeta. I’m guessing you came for the 4 star ball?”
“How did you know?” Vegeta was sweating a little and his voice was quiet. Gohan came over to him quickly.
“Whoa, what happened? You’re bleeding all over the place!”
“I don’t really care to mention how it happened.” He stumbled a little.
“Well, whatever it was, you look a little pale.”
“It’s nothing…” He followed Gohan into the house.

Gohan and Videl had an extra room for medical use and lab work. It reminded Vegeta of Bulma’s med room, but it was much smaller. She hadn’t really had one growing up, but since all of her friends became warriors, she kept it in full stock. She had also made a healing room that Vegeta found useful. It had no gravity, and you could float around, letting the vapor-like air heal you. The idea was a bit like the healing pods he had grown up with, but she had designed them differently. Vegeta suspected it was because he didn’t want to be reminded of his past.
When Gohan tried to remove his clothes, he flinched and pushed the boy’s hands away.
“I’m not weak enough that I can’t take off my own clothes.” Gohan smiled.
“Sorry. Just a reflex, I guess.” Vegeta smirked at that.
“A reflex? Taking off people’s clothes?” He enjoyed how red Gohan’s face got.
“That came out wrong, didn’t it?” He looked at the gash down Vegeta’s side.
“How did this...oh wait, you didn’t want to tell me. It would help if I knew… It’s such a straight cut. Almost like a weapon.”
“Oh, just shut up and help me wrap it up.”
“I can’t just wrap this. It needs stitches, Vegeta.” The prince just laughed. “Do you see these scars?” He gestured to the rest of his body.
“Wow. You have more than Dad has.”
“Notice anything about them?”
“Um...no stitch marks?”
“That’s right. I never needed them. Saiyans heal fast and our blood is thick. You should know that, Gohan.”
“I guess so. All right. I’ll just have to wrap it up really tight.” He pulled a long strip of white gauze off the roll.
“I’d let you do this yourself, but it’s in kind of a hard place-”
“Just hurry it up already. I don’t have all day.”
“You don’t, huh?” Gohan smiled knowingly. “Is being apart from Bulma that hard on you?” Now it was Vegeta’s turn to blush.
“No...I…” He growled and stayed silent. Gohan kept smiling and placed the end of the gauze on Vegeta’s chest. Using an instinct he learned long ago, Vegeta pressed it into place while Gohan started unwinding the gauze. He pulled it tight against the wound, and Vegeta’s eyes blinked hard once. He made no other movement or sound.
“Geez.” Gohan chuckled. “You really are the toughest guy I know. It’s okay to flinch a little.”
“It doesn’t hurt enough for that.” Vegeta muttered.
“I’m not even sure what would hurt with you.”
“Oh, I’m sure you can think of something. You’ve seen enough of me on the battlefield.” Gohan was quiet for a moment. Then he nodded slowly.
“True. I have seen a lot. You’d think after all we’ve been through, that you’d at least be nicer to me by now.” Vegeta gave a strained laugh as Gohan continued to pull the gauze.
“Yes, you would think that, wouldn’t you?”  Gohan shrugged.
“It’s alright though. I’m used to it. I don’t think I would know what to do if you suddenly turned nice.”
“You’re lucky enough that I am the way I am now. I could just kill you and steal your Dragonball.” Vegeta turned and looked into Gohan’s eyes. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t even stop his slow rotation around Vegeta.
“Your eyes used to have much more steel in them.”
“If you’re trying to telling me I’ve grown soft, I’ll blast you.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it in this room. Lots of chemicals. It would blow sky hi-” Gohan stopped when he saw Vegeta swallow hard and look away. Was he afraid of something? It wasn’t like him to act like this. Then, like a flash, he remembered. Bulma. Before Goku had gone back to Uub’s island, he told Gohan and Chi Chi about what happened. He’d been expecting Vegeta to come for the 4 star ball.
“I-I’m sorry, Vegeta. I wasn’t thinking…” The prince’s bronze skin looked unusually pale as he finished wrapping the wound.
“I have a hard time believing it. I mean, she’s the best scientist around. How could-” Vegeta stood up, quickly.
“Gohan. Give me the Dragonball. Now.” His back was facing the young scholar, but he could still imagine what his eyes looked like.
“Right.” On his way out of the lab, he looked over his shoulder cautiously. Vegeta was still standing, but one hand was gripping the back of the chair, hard. His head was down, and his eyes were closed. If he didn’t know any better, it would almost look like  he was holding back tears.

“Videl? Where’s the Dragonball?” When Gohan went into the bedroom and pulled open the dresser drawer, it was empty. Only a velvet pillow remained. His stomach leaped. Vegeta would be uncontrollable if he couldn’t find that ball. He tried to think of what it would be like if he lost Videl. He imagined flying all over the world, searching for the one chance that would bring her back. Would he do it all in one day? Definitely. He knew then what he had suspected for awhile. Vegeta loved Bulma. He never showed it, but it was just like a saying he had once read. “Still waters run deep.” Sometimes the most subtle actions revealed themselves as love. The Saiyan prince didn’t even want to live one day without her.
Gohan walked briskly out of the bedroom.
“Videl?”
“In here, Gohan.” He heard her soft voice from the kitchen.
When he ducked through the doorway, he was greeted with a sweet smell. She was rolling out dough, and Pan was licking a wooden spoon.
“Where’s Vegeta?” Videl raised an eyebrow. “I saw him with you in the front yard.”
“He was hurt. I had to wrap him up a bit.”
“Is he okay?” Videl’s dark eyes showed concern. She didn’t know Vegeta well, but unlike some of their other friends, she admired toughness and determination in all its forms. Even if that particular form could be a stone in someone’s shoe. Her own father was a fake weakling, and sometimes he wondered if Videl respected the other Z fighters more than him.
“He’s fine. But he really needs the Dragonball. Where is it?” Gohan tried not to look too desperate in front of his small daughter. She looked up from her spoon, her eyes wide.
“I have it with me.” She put her hand in the apron pocket and pulled it out.
“Oh, thank goodness. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m sorry. I figured if Vegeta was coming for it, we should have it right here. Considering how impatient he is.”
“Yeah, well. I think he finally has a right to be that way this time.” They were quiet for a moment.
“Poor Bulma. Go give it to him, Gohan.” He nodded and turned around. Before he was in the hallway he felt Videl’s hands on his shoulders.
“I love you.” She whispered in his ear.
“You too, Videl.”

When Gohan returned to the lab, Vegeta was gone. He focused for a second, locating his ki outside. He went out a side door and found him in the yard again.
“Here it is, Vegeta. Sorry for the wait.” When he placed the ball into his hand, he noticed Vegeta’s eyes looked glassy. His energy was still high, but there was something off about him.
“Hey...are you sure you don’t want a glass of water? Something to eat? You look…” Vegeta blinked hard and shook his head. Gohan couldn’t  tell if he was saying “no” to his suggestion, or if he had been dizzy, and he was shaking it off.
Vegeta felt his stomach pinch with hunger, and his mouth did feel dry. But the very thought of eating something right now made nauseous. The next time he ate something, he wanted it to be food that Bulma made. The thought was ridiculous, but it was still in his head, nonetheless. However, he really could use some water. Saiyans drank more than humans did, and the last thing he had was a half a gallon of juice with his breakfast. Come to think of it...that was still in there. He blushed a little. Bulma would shake her head if she knew he wasn’t even allowing himself to go to the bathroom. Either that or she’d think it was utterly romantic. That settled things. He would take a minute to hydrate himself at least.

“So, do you know where the last two balls are?” Videl asked. She looked Vegeta right in the eye when she addressed him, unafraid. It reminded him of Bulma. He drank the last of the water from his glass.
“I’m pretty sure the next one is in the desert. Yamcha’s territory.”
“Uh, oh.” Gohan laughed.
“No problem. I’m sure he’ll leave me alone.” Vegeta smirked.
“Actually, Vegeta, I think Yamcha has a pretty healthy respect for you.”
“Healthy. I like that. It means he knows what’s good for him.”
“What am I missing here?” Videl asked. Gohan smiled at her.
“Well, Yamcha used to date Bulma in the old days.”
“So?” Videl shrugged. “If it was a long time ago, it doesn’t matter.”
“That still doesn’t make me and Yamcha best friends or anything.” Vegeta countered.
“What else is new?” Gohan joked. “You’ve never been best friends with anyone, right?” Vegeta’s smirk deepened.
“You know me too well, boy.”
“What about Bulma?” The room was quiet, and Videl blushed. She was known to say the wrong thing. It was why she got along with Gohan so well. Neither one of them were experts in the social department.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have...”
“Never mind. It’s alright. Besides, Bulma is my wife. Not my friend.” Videl noticed something in Vegeta’s eyes. They were softer than before. Anyone would read that comment as: ‘A wife is not a friend. Just a wife.’ But Videl read it as: ‘A wife is more than just a mere friend.’ She nodded ever so slightly and smiled. Gohan interrupted the brief exchange. His eyes were on Videl’s pastries.
“So, you don’t know where the last Dragonball is?” Vegeta shrugged.
“I have the radar. I’ll find it.” Something was nagging at Gohan’s cluttered brain. He remembered it involved Piccolo mentioning a Dragonball.
“Go bring her back, Vegeta.” Videl whispered. This brought Gohan out of his thoughts.
“What?” He looked around, and Vegeta was gone. Suddenly there was a shrill scream, and they both turned to see Pan next to the oven,  clutching her hand. When Videl dashed over to her, any thought of Piccolo and the Dragonball evaporated from Gohan’s mind.

Vegeta leapt into the air. He had put the 4 star ball in his empty left pocket. It was a short flight to the desert, so he slipped his fingers around it and let his mind wander.

The sky had been full of stars. Usually in the city, you couldn’t see them very well, but Dr. Briefs and Bulma had collaborated on a project that cleansed the city air, and over time, it had cleared the sky. West City also had a large number of trees compared to most cities. Vegeta was secretly glad of this. He didn’t like the idea of living in filth. And he to be able to see the stars. Space was a vital connection to who he was.
He sat on the edge of the balcony, remembering events from a week ago. He could still feel the pain vividly. Sacrificing his life for his family had been the most intense agony he had ever felt. Even when Android 18 broke his arm, it hadn’t been like that. Sometimes when he closed his eyes, he could still see his own light, bright as the sun. He still felt his skin burning away. Every single particle of him had been on fire. There was no way he could ever forget that. But that was easier to remember than when he had allowed himself to turn Majin. The darkness he had felt. The cold heaviness of falling out of control. He had regained it rather quickly, but it had been like rolling an entire planet up the face of an endless mountain. There had been so much of him that just wanted to destroy everything in sight.
Now, as he sat there, that feeling was utterly gone. It was the first time in his life that he didn’t want to kill anyone. He had burned it all away. He took a deep breath, enjoying how easy it was. When he let it out, he felt Bulma’s small ki tickling his senses. He used to be bothered by it, not knowing how to feel or act around her. Now, her ki was as familiar as the stars around him. He heard her soft footsteps, and the rustling of her silk robe. She sat on the rail, her back to the stars. Her eyes watched him. When he didn’t say anything, she pushed at the balcony floor with her feet, making her body rock back and forth on the rail. The building wasn’t too high, but it was high enough that she was risking a broken neck.
“You’re doing that on purpose.” Bulma just laughed at him.
“What are going to do about it?”
“Well, since you’re being an idiot, I should let you fall.”
“You should.” Her eyes gleamed. “But you won’t.” She rocked harder. Vegeta put his hand out and pressed on her back, enough to push her onto the balcony. She landed on her feet, laughing softly.
“You’re lucky I’m not the kind of woman that jumps off of balconies to test the love of her husband.”
“If you were that desperately dramatic, I wouldn’t be your husband.” She stepped up to where he was sitting and placed her hands on the rail, right between his legs. Her face was close, her lips almost touched his.
“Why are you my husband, I wonder?” She whispered. Vegeta chuckled softly.
“Because one evening, I was taking a shower, minding my own business, and you took advantage of me, and forced me to make a child with you.” His eyes flashed, teasing her. She gave a light punch to his chest.
“Took advantage of you? Oh, you are good. You know as well as I do that it take two to tango.” He reached out and wrapped his arm around her waist.
“You know I’ve never been good at dancing.” He whispered.
“You’re good at this kind.” She leaned in, and he kissed her. Her eyes closed, but he kept his open, watching her. He liked the way her hair shone in the starlight, and how her eyebrows pushed close together while he kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his waist, and he pulled her up onto the rail beside him. By pure instinct she settled into his lap, not even breaking the kiss. When he felt his heartbeat starting to pick up, he released her. There were too many people in this city that knew them. He didn't want to see himself in the morning paper, naked and tangled up with her on the balcony.
She settled her head in the crook of his neck, sighing contently. After a while, she spoke again.
“That’s not what I meant, you know, when I asked why you are my husband. Anyone can have a kid with someone. But you chose to stay here and marry me.”
“Haven’t you asked me this before?” He wrapped a finger around her hair absently.
“I think so...but…”
“And what did I say?”
“Something along the lines of…you didn’t have anything better to do.”
“Well?”
“Well? That’s a crappy answer. I want something better than that.”
“Why are you my wife?”
“Hey, don’t change it around-”
“No, I mean it.” He sat up straighter, and she pulled away from him, looking into his eyes.
“There are countless reasons why I should be your husband. You are smart and attractive. But why are you still with me?” He saw her starting to blush at the comments, but then she smiled wickedly.
“You don’t think you’re smart and attractive?”
“Tch...don’t make it into a game. I want a real answer.”
“Not until you give me yours.”
“Damn it, woman! Isn’t it obvious?” Bulma dropped down from the rail, facing him head on.
“You haven’t been obvious with me a single day in our relationship!”
“You know why I married you! But you just want to hear me say it, as some sort of proof!”
“Well, isn’t that what you want from me?”
“No! You want to know why I married a strong, confident woman. I want to know why you married an arrogant, murderous alien monster!”
His voice sliced through the air, rendering everything silent. Bulma looked away from him, drawing strength from some unknown force.
“You are not a monster, Vegeta.”
“How on earth can you say that? Only a week ago, I allowed myself to be taken over by an evil entity. Only a week ago, I blew up half a stadium of people. I very narrowly missed you and all your friends! How can you still think I’m not a monster? How can you even…” His voice trailed off.
“How can I even what? Love you? Is that what you were thinking?” She looked into his eyes now, daring him to say otherwise.
“Well, yes…” She blinked, surprised that he admitted it.
“Vegeta.” She came close to him, and cupped his face with her hand.
“I’ve loved you for too long. I don’t know how to stop. No matter what you do. You were still a murderer when I met you. But after that, I was curious about you. I knew there was something else inside of you. Before I went to Namek I was afraid. I could feel my body shake. That’s why I put on that damn space suit, just for take off. It looked ridiculous, but it hid my fear. I was thinking about you. I knew I would see you again. And yes, I was afraid of you. But it was not just fear. I could feel myself come alive. Through all my adventures, I had never felt like that. And later on, when you were on Earth again, with no place to go, I felt it again. When I looked over at you, asking if you wanted to come live here, I was trembling inside. With the possibility of you. I saw beyond the darkness. I always have. And a couple years later, when you came out wearing that pink shirt...it was the end for me. The end of searching for someone that would make me feel that way. I knew then. I loved you. Why do you think I was so relentless after that? I followed you around everywhere. There was no turning back after that. And when you gave into me? Let me love you? Vegeta...everything after that was more than I could imagine. I never thought you would love me back. But, despite what everyone thought, I knew you did. Nobody sees you the way I do. No one really gets it.” Her hand fell back and she was quiet.
“So, when you turned Majin...I knew that you were fighting it. I could feel it. I never blamed you for a moment. I knew for years before that you would face that kind of trial. And you did. Head on. And you won. If anything, I am proud of you. Yes, Vegeta. You used to be a monster. You used to not care who or what you destroyed. But you are not that person anymore. And I am still your wife. I will never stop being loyal to you.” They stared into each other’s eyes for a long time after that. Vegeta was rendered speechless. Throughout their whole relationship, she had never spoken with such candor. He didn’t have a comeback for all that. After awhile, he pushed himself off the rail, and stood at her level. He put both hands on her shoulders, his eyes searching.
“Bulma.” He moved closer then, pressing his forehead against hers. He whispered into her ear.
“Thank you.”