Even More Of Us
3
xmlns="http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40">
Evene Ofe Of Us
Sequel
to “More of Us.”
Card
Notes: Slash. M/M.
*Gratuitous usage of purring. *
Mpreg. AU; naturally.
Oh, and I don’t own them.
DBZ manga.
But I do own the following birth certificates:
Bardock, Gogeta, Takashi and Bulla.
~~~**
Goku
felt the explosion, even before the shock wave broke. There was an instant reaction, benefiting any full blooded
Saiyan. He turned towards the
explosion, became painfully aware that his children were all sitting behind
him. And Vegeta, and Bulma.
oncoming peril not away. Knowing that
this was his death he was flying toward.
But he trusted Trunks, because he’d been there every day of the boy’s
life for two years. Seen that he would
grow up and survive, despite everything.
And there was a fight out there; he was damn well going to go face it.
When
he got there, he was met with the ugliest looking man he had ever met.
yaddayaddablahblah. Why did earth
people have to talk so much? Just say:
I’m here to kill you. And get on with
it already! Then there was a big fat,
white blobby thing that turned out to be an android. 16 or 19 or something, he never was very good with numbers.
Vegeta
crossed his mind again, he wished that he was here, that whatever was going to
happen wouldn’t. That he would live and
they would have more children. That
Trunks would never get those bruises.
He prepared himself for the battle, braced against the tubby white thing
that flew at him. Unprepared for the
instant feeling of weakness that hit him just after the white thing got in
range. Fighting it was like being a
child again. He struggled against it,
felt weak and heavy and stupid. But it
was still slower than him, and a few well placed kicks, a Kamehameha or two,
and it was lying on the ground.
That
was when Trunks showed up. With
Bulma. She ran up to him, pricked his
skin and then gave him the sweetest, most concerned look.
to Trunks, to hide behind her future son.
His
chest hurt. Horribly.
the children that he had nursed, and felt the pain as it spread.
his arms, down into his stomach. And he
heaved, trying to breath but couldn’t.
Couldn’t barely stand.
That
was when Vegeta showed up. Goku smiled
at him, felt his heart squeezing so tight together it must be the size of an
acorn. He was going to die of a heart
attack. Like a human.
Vegeta’s ki but couldn’t see his face.
He had died before, and this was that feeling.
~~~**
Vegeta
watched him stop breathing. He stopped
breathing. He was no longer
breathing. He had stopped.
had disappeared again!
Rage.
field, watched the child that was not even three years old fall at his mother’s
side, dig his tiny knees into dirt, watched as the child stared, blank-eyed.
standing in a line, sobbing into their hands, shaking and crying, and Gohan,
radiating power. Immense power.
But
all that power was a pinprick compared to the well inside of Vegeta.
Ass, was cackling. Punched him.
power went behind it. He watched the
old man stumble. Stupid hat fell off,
he landed on his back. Vegeta moved
closer, put one foot on his chest, over his heart, leaned down, grinned at the
man. Felt his soul slipping away.
the need to be better. Now that he was
no longer breathing there was nothing but anger. And he pushed his leg down, powered up, felt the world go yellow,
felt the crackles of lighting all around him.
His foot when through the chest.
Crushed the heart, broke ribs into dust. He didn’t care. Hoped it
hurt. Hoped the idiot bastard lived
long enough to feel the pain. Then he
lifted his foot, shook the body off.
Turned. Stared at the android
that had infected his mate.
Something
pricked the back of his arm. He turned,
felt like a thing that was dead, and moving only through anger.
known runninay fay from him. Saw a line
of Saiyans. Wondered who they
were. Thought that maybe he had once
known them. Then turned back to the android.
Smiled.
wire by wire. Moved forward.
for Vegeta’s speed. He caught it by the
eyes, pushed his fingers through, felt the sting of electricity.
and over, leaving a dent. But Androids
didn’t bruise, and he felt bereft.
Anger was not being assuaged.
So
he pushed it down, face down, into the ground, stepped on the back of its head
as it struggled, rubbed that ugly white face in the dirt until it was
black. Like a bruise.
again, not caring that it wasn’t fighting back really.
thing. Not caring at all, because it
wasn’t breaking. It wasn’t
bleeding. It wasn’t gasping for its
last breath like his mate had.
It
wasn’t enough.
More
needed to die.
Much
more.
~~~~**
Trunks
brought Bulma. Watched her get the
required sampl blo blood, scooped her back up and dragged her back to the lab
at the same time he—the little one of him—and his siblings showed up.
mate die. Begged all providence that
Vegeta didn’t destroy Goku’s body before Trunks got back.
it all alright, and ran to the time machine.
Felt that explosion of power as Vegeta powered up.
Climbed
into the machine, pulled the top down, hit all the right buttons.
frantically of everything he remembered about that day.
did when he traveled through time—and he closed his eyes, let it break over
him. Smiled as a tear slid down his
face:
Goten
was purring. Soft skinned and
beautiful. Purring as he leaned on Trunks’
arm. Whined low in his chest, and
murmured little things. Like how much
he loved Trunks, how much he wanted him.
How reading and learning were worthless when they could be
shagging. Trunks smiled, kissed his
mate, heard the book slide off the bed and
thump against the floor as it was replaced with a smiling, naked Goten.
Strong, muscled, but tiny in comparison to the rest of them.
throat, in that way that made everything else so unimportant.
would not matter as long as his mate was here with him.
He felt the tail wrap around his own, felt his
fifteen year old hormones kick in. Felt
hot little hands on his erection, sly smirk on his mate’s face as those legs
opened for him, smooth and pale, inviting him in. And ad bad barely gotten his shirt off when Goten wrapped his
legs around him, freeing his erection from his boxers, and he was in his
love. In that warmth, the tightness,
the beautiful body. Goten ripped the
shirt for him, kneaded the muscles of his upper arms, purred and whimpered, but
didn’t move. They were new to this sex
thing. Goten was so young and so
small. Tight. And Trunks kissed him, waited for his love, felt the quickening,
the smoothness and the wetness of the passage he was inside.
the dark hair, then moved down to suck on that neck. The perfect neck, and felt teeth break through the skin of his
shoulder. Felt legs pull him in
tighter, hands slip down to his waist to push him out and guide him.
they clenched and unclenched around him.
Kissed Goten again, tasted the blood in his mouth,
sucked on it, licked it from his mouth, from his teeth, braced himself with his
arms and started to thrust. Little
groans, and he growled in response, felt instinct rise, tried to push it away,
but it came anyway, and he was thrusting harder, meeting Goten as he shoved his
whole body into it, arching and sweating and sliding against him.
their bodies together, felt the erection against his stomach, the slickness all
around him. Felt their power levels—so
minute compared to their fathers—and yet, it was growing.
magnificent. He kissed Goten again,
pushed in hard one last time and…
The dream ended.
The nightmare began, because the Time machine hed hed ground, and the
hatch opened, a hand grabbed him by the back of the neck, he yelled out when he
was hauled out, slammed face first into the hard rock of his father’s
palace. Felt that horrendous monster
behind him, the stink of decay and death on the monster’s breath.
Bardock whispered to him:
“Back
so soon?” Laughed as he pushed his
hands inside Trunks’ shirt, dug his hard, sharp nails into skin, dragged them
down, reduced his back mas mass of scratches.
“Still trying to save your little bitch boyfriend?”
Trunks
closed his eyes, tried to breath, tried not to fight back.
that he knew, more so than anyone, because this was the same man that had held
him down and ripped off his tail, drank the blood as it gushed, laughed at him
when he struggled back to his feet.
Shoved him down, bruised him everywhere he could.
matched his hair. Purple.
back slammed into the palace, blood seeped through the jacket.
cruelty, the pride. And then, a fist slammed
into his face. Knocked him to the
ground, and he spit out the blood that filled his mouth.
The expected blow came to his ribs, and then the laugh.
“Stupid.”
forth.
He
tried to climb back to his feet, stifled the scream of pain and the yell of
challenge. Defeating Bardock would never
happen. He would have to save the
boy. He pressed a hand to his temple,
tried to calm the spinning migraine, and forced himself to fly, up to his
mother’s rooms—she was forced to move in with the nightmare King following
Trunks’ departure with the Time Machine—and she was sitting there, staring at
the bruise on her arm. Every so often
she pressed her finger into it. But he
had the suspicious that she wasn’t feeling the pain.
“Mom,”
he said. His mouth was swelling.
She
looked at him, and he realized that hope had died for her.
to see his mother in her dead eyes. But
she just touched his face. Then her own
throat, and he saw the scar there, an ugly, twisted thing, like someone had
shoved their hand through her. And she
shook her head.
“I’m
so sorry, mom,” he said. Felt the tears
and the rage, and he let his head fall, rested his face in her lap and wanted
to be able to spahe whe weakness to feel this sorrow. But it had to become rage.
He had to get stronger. So he
stood up, moved away from her and cleared his throat. “Where’s the vaccine?”
She
pointed at a black box that was dented, but unopened, and he flipped the little
numbers on it to the universal code—the one only the two of them knew—and it
opened. Within, there were nine little vials, with a tiny needle on each—a note
told him those were the vaccines for the children, Vegeta and himself, then he
picked up the other one, a larger vial with a needle that had to be at least
two inches long. And there was a note
attached to it:
Get
his heart to beat. CPR.
the hell away from him. Saiyan power
doubles when they face death.
He
pocketed the vials, put the long needle in his coat pocket.
that when he came back she would be nothing like this.
~~~~~~~~~~~**
Oh
no Joe! Is it going to work?!
Vegeta: MUST KILL AUTHOR.
Card: Meep. Please don’t.
Vegeta: MUST KILL.
Trunks: Ignore him. He’ll keep
doing that if you talk to him.
Lil’Bardock:
Card: *ignore, ignore*
Jaygoose:
Angst is easier for me to write than humor.
too angsty. I’ve finished a few
chapters, and hopefully they have the appropriate angst.
Getarian:
Wow. I love
the way that you pick up on all my favorite little details.
little things that make it seem like its good.
And everytime I read your reviews, I get this big ole grin on my face
because you always have a list of things that were small details I expected
everyone to read and like, but not necessarily comment on.
That is all I can say. Thank
you.
LadyLupin:
I’ve spoken with my neighborhood
hell-trash-collector, and he said that he’d be happy to take the flu bug to
hell for you.
Mechanical Butterfly:
I can’t tell you one way or the other what will
happen! Silly!
Aarika:
See, I love DBZ, but what I don’t get is before Goku,
there was only supposed to be one Super Saiyan every ten-thousand years.
then… (realizes is rambling.) So how
many are really born? Or did the Saiyans
have to work really hard and die face death multiple times to get Super Saiyan?
Fifi:
Update’s everyday at 7, dear.
Thanks for reviewing!
Luna:
GASP!!
*forgot that without Goku, sex doesn’t happen. * *marches off to consult
lawyers about this mess. * Well, this
must be stopped. There needs to be more
sex! (ah, never fear for the sex,
dear. Death or not, there will be sex.)
CrazyGurl:
*author cackles like maniac*