Much Like Suffocating
35
xmlns="http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40">
Much Like Suffocating
Card
instead of just reading it? (Insert
standard disclaimer here: I don’t own
Vegeta, Goku, (any other characters mentioned herein) or the show they came
from DBZ DBGT or just plain DB.)
ALL RIGHTY. *rubs hands
together and looks up terms for the list of warnings: *
already screaming. You can read
it. I swear It’ll be chocked full of
lemony goodness. LEMONS (Not talking
about the fruit here, either. I’m
talking about the sex ones; although how did it come to be a ‘lemon’ anyway?)
Gasp): bondage, shady professions, and
graphic descriptions. (Hopefully
graphic anywho.) Also, dirty language
doubtlessly. DARK.
As always I strive to keep folk in character even when they are not
‘themselves’ in the canon-sense. If
you’re reading this and you’re like they are so not in character, give it a
chappie or two and see if you still think that.
I tried very hard not to write this.
bunny (the plot bunny) until it went away.
And you see how far that got me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~****
The
bastard looked shocked. Shocked enough that
when Vegeta shoved open the double doors of the throne room and strode in with
the cat at his side, Bardock didn’t even muster a peep.
room, Bardock looked just a tad too happy for Vegeta’s liking, but he wasn’t
about to ask what the hell was making Bardock grin like that.
Then
there was his father, who sat like a skeleton on the throne, skin and bones
with all the muscle Vegeta remembered atrophying and decaying into nothing but
bags of skin suspended by the bones.
Withered, is what the old man was, withered and gray and his eyes were
thick with cataracts. Whoever sat on
that throne, it wasn’t the man that Vegeta remembered, and as he fought against
the urge to press his hand to his forehead—his head ached insanely and he could
feel the little imprisoned Juro trying to bore through the shield that Goten
held on his mind, but they were worthless compared to him.
The
old King looked up and blinked his eyes, slowly as if filled with lead that
wore him down to the bone, and then in a voice that was nothing of what he
remembered croaked: “Son?”
Everything
that Vegeta had wanted to demand of his father, everything that he needed to
know about the why and the how was lost.
Because his father had suffered worse than him.
over his chest, so amused, so very amused with the spectacle that was about to
happen, and that bastard didn’t have a clue what waited for him.
“Yes,”
Vegeta said, “I’ve come home, Father.”
Moved forward, away from the doors and closer to the throne.
“Dead,”
the old man croaked again, licked his chapped lips with a
but he couldn’t, he was weak and old and Vegeta thought that if he did try to
move that his brittle bones would snap.
“You were dead.”
“No.
mind to keep him from the Juro asses was ripped away, so quickly and so
violently that he clapped his hands to his ears as blood ran out and down his
face. There was a horrible noise, a
hive of thoughts and chattering, all in that singsong chant of the Juro, and he
screamed at them internally, felt something more powerful than him swipe at
those thoughts, felt the destruction and the awe of the Gods of the Juro as
they descended and destroyed, then there was a white static in his mind, and
another little voice. An infinitely
more amused one that spoke like no God he had ever heard.
but there was the image of Goten, of his body as it was wrapped up in the
bleached-white cloud of the Juro wrath and ripped open.
The
question he was asked was to stand for Goten, to claim him as the son of the
Saiyans, and he remembered his promise, told this voice that he would.
left, left him on his knees in the middle of the throne room with bloody hands.
“Just
like a whore belongs,” Bardock snapped, “On his knees.”
The
old King looked at his son as if he were a filth the likes of which was never
seen before, and he said in that brittle old voice: “You disgust me.”
Bardock
grinned. “Thought that you could keep
it from me?” Bardock crossed the throne room, grabbed Vegeta by the neck and
hauled him up into the air. “Thought
that I wouldn’t SEE?!” Bulma darted
forward with her claws, but Bardock knocked her back, shoved her out of his way
without so much as a glance in her direction and she crumbled against the wall,
knocked her head and struggled to get back to her feet.
belong to you?”
~~~***
“Oh
shit!” that was the little Prince
himself, rising from the pit of fog calling the Gods had dropped him in,
because his fingers were on Goten’s skin, and he felt his whole life getting
sucked into the half-Saiyan, felt the mind as it sped up and wrapped around
his, became his and that was the last thing that anyone in the world wanted to
happen. He yanked his hand back and
turned, shouted for Trunks or someone. “Help!”
he screamed, felt the fog—there was real fog—as it rose from all around them,
descended from the sky and swept out through the palace to find the
abused. To find those with the Juro
blood that needed to be punished.
“Trunks!”
he shouted, “Help. Goten’s…”
wasn’t him, that his personality was slipping, but there was blood spouting out
of his body and without his mind to heal himself, he could die there.
Trunks
ran. Ran faster than Krillin had ever
seen a man run, and he tossed his sword to the ground, imbedded it in the stone
of the floor, dropped to his knees in the blood that was coating the floor,
grabbed Goten by the shoulders and shoved him to the ground, flat on his back
in the carnage. Sat on him, grabbed his
hands in one of Trunks, and then slapped his hand—bloody hand—over Goten’s
mouth. Over his nose and his mouth so
he couldn’t breath.
“What
are you doing?” Krillin whispered.
Watched with horrified amazement as Goten twisted against the hands that
held him down. Felt min mind fighting
for the right to keep this new life it had found within itself to reassert that
it wasn’t Goten, it was Krillin. But
the need to breath outweighed the need of self, and Goten’s mind slammed back
into dominance with the click of a steel trap snapping closed.
his hands free.
“Fuck,”
he said, “We’ve got to go. Bardock
knows. Bardock knows and he’s got
Vegeta.” But when he would have climbed
to his feet, the Juro Gods sped back to the origin they had been called forth
from. Back to Krillin and he felt their
icy hands wrap around him, felt their anger and their hate for he who had
called them to kill. He felt the
blinding pain, felt their hands on his forehead and screamed out in some sort
of denial, some sort of plea. He’d
rather die than be faced with a life of shame the likes of which they were to
place on him.
But
all his pleading got him was a cruel smirk, and they ripped the mark of the
Juro from him, wrapped his mind up in their hand and tore away all his powers
just as they turned to strike at Goten again.
Be sce screamed heard the last fleeting scream of every creature in the
room that objected to the pain they wished to inflict on Goten.
Something
changed. Something rose up from the
blood that lay on the floor and it was like a red cloud, rose up and
encompassed the white, so completely that he could hear the Gods’ terrified
whimper, the jealousy and the hate they held for the Saiyan Gods, and then all
at once…
It
was gone.
They
stood, the five of them, in a hallway free from blood and bodies, free from the
signs of the massacre they had made, and Goten was there, still bearing the
marks of the Juro, but every scar that had once lined his body was gone.
“Fuck
me,” Goten whispered. Rose his hand and
telekinetically pulled Trunks’ sword from the floor. Looked at his hands and waited for the rip of his skin, but it
didn’t come, and he looked at them. “Really.
“Lets go.” Then he handed the
sword over to Trunks and ran down the hallway.
“REALLY!” he yelled, “He’s fucking killing Vegeta!”
Krillin
moved to follow, felt gravity invert around him. Fell to the ground and smacked his head against the hard
stone. Knew that his skin had torn open
and knew that he was bleeding, but it didn’t matter. He would rather bleed to death here, than to face what his Gods
had done to him in the face of his piousness.
It was the duty of the Prince to judge the wicked and call for the Gods,
and every single Prince that had done it was killed. But it was too kind of the Gods to kill Krillin, it seemed, they
had done something worse to him.
And
as the blood seeped out of him, onto the floor, and he heard the thundering
footsteps of the rest of them he thought that it would be okay to die here, on
this floor. Okay to die, because if he
did, he would never wake up and know what had been done.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~****
Nooooooooooooooooooooo!
Goku:
Sheesh. Drama queen.
Vegeta: I’m in
real mortal danger here.
Bulma: Ow.
Goten: Cool!
Trunks: Yeah for
you.
Goten: *shivers
in excitement * Lets go try them out!
Macha:
Yep.
Mechanical Butterfly:
Yeah,
that’s human nature for you. You don’t
want to see evil people repent. You don’t
want to be made to feel sorry for them.
You want them to suffer and be evil while they’re suffering so you don’t
feel bad about it yourself. *shrugs *
As they often say. Bardock is going to die. Painfully, hopefully.