In My Darkest Hour

Eh......! ..sorry it took awhile to update i have started school and me and my beta don't talk as MUCH as before (so this will get done..but slower then i thought ^^;..)

~review replies:

DarkSerapha: I dunno what you meant by 'strawberry-field' but sureeee why not XD. Um...also yes, i realized that it went a bit fast..*went back to read it* and i agree however, despite the fastness of the last chapter..it was said early for a purpose. ..and since we all know how Vegeta is ..well you'll see how it helps. I hope ^^.

Thanks for the review as always i appreciate it.

*~NOW ON TO THE STORY!~*
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Pain, blurred lights overhead, screaming and more pain, then blackness. That was all that was witnessed by Vegeta at three in the morning.

Goku was startled awake by the shrill sound of a phone. Glancing to the window instead of the alarm clock, he determined it was way too early to be up. Nevertheless, he climbed out of bed and went to grab the phone.

“’Ello?” he answered, having to push the phone away from his ear right after, not expecting the loud voice that sounded from the other side.

“Goku?! GOKU! You have to hurry! Vegeta’s in the hospital! He collapsed earlier and was screaming in pain! He’s sedated now, but the doctors say it’s not good! Goku, please hurry!” Bulma didn’t pause to breathe, getting all the information out before she turned from the mouthpiece to yell at some ‘idiot doctors.’

A tremor of fear shot down the younger male’s body. He hated hospitals, but he would go. His friend needed him, after all.

Making his way back up the steps to his room, he leaned over Chichi and pecked her on the cheek, a silent promise to the sleeping woman that he would be back. Straightening back up, he got dressed, locked onto Bulma’s ki signature and ITed to the hospital.

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He didn’t know how many hours he’d spent with his mind completely in the dark. The first thing that came back to him was his hearing and it was instantly plagued by the sound of what seemed like monitors and murmurs of voices he didn’t recognize, mostly from females that seemed to be moving around him. An incredible sense of disorientation made his ill stomach twist with anxiety and he willed his heavy eyelids to open, regretting it instantly as he opened his eyes to a very blurry, swirling world. He could tell the lights overhead were brighter than the ones at home, and that led to questions: where was he? Why did his limbs feel like they’d been triturated? Why couldn’t he move?! Now, on a normal day, not only would Vegeta disregard these questions, but he would also FORCE himself to move. However, coupling these questions was a serious matter of him being in intense pain.

The only thing that calmed him then was the surprisingly soothing sound of someone’s voice that stood out over all the others. He could have sworn it was Kakarot’s, but he still wasn’t sure. There was a whole huge moment of time that he was not accountable for.

The pain that assaulted his contour felt worse than any pain he’d experienced in the heat of battle or ever before. Vegeta was sure he was going to die. He could not explain why his body was failing. This wasn’t supposed to be happening to him. He was a Saiyajin. Their bodies were created to withstand pain and physical exertion. This was mind-boggling. Though his thoughts were jumbled and his mind was not completely conscious, a single image jumpstarted his deteriorated train of thought, though it made it worse for his unresponsive body: Frieza. He remembered what the tyrant had said. Could the stupid, sadistic lizard been telling the truth? Was he really dying? That didn’t comfort the Prince nor did it satisfy him. A hoarse moan was breathed out as a particularly strong jolt of pain wracked his system. He could feel the muscles in his arms and legs moving on their own accord, violent spasms making the skin involuntarily twitch underneath the white blanket that had been thrown over him at some point while he was out of it and did a poor job on hiding the torturous coldness of wherever he was.

As his senses gradually sharpened, he slowly turned his head to the side to survey his surroundings and snorted when his sense of smell picked up the horrid scent of a human hospital. With eyes that scanned anything and everything, he also took note there were several tubes inserted into both of his arms. Another thing he detected was the cold air that was being blown into his nostrils, as well as the small, almost unnoticeable pressure of something encompassing everything from his nose to his chin, quickly recognizing it as an oxygen mask. There was also something or someone pushing down on the mattress.

Slowly but surely, his vision began to regain its focus and he shifted it to the other occupants of the room. By the door he could see a head of blue; that was definitely Bulma, who was looking to the outside as if expecting someone. It wasn’t difficult to conclude she was nervous, the anxious chewing of her nails being a dead giveaway. ‘What could she be waiting for?’ Vegeta asked himself. He then let his eyes fall on the person that added the extra weight to his bed to find Kakarot. The male’s hair was unruly and he looked like he was forcing himself to stay awake. Seeing this made the Prince wonder what the hell was going on yet again. Surely he wasn’t that sick or close to dying, was he? Frieza made it seem like he still had some time. This was starting to become quite irritating.

Grunting low in his throat, he made sure he would get not only Kakarot’s attention, but the woman’s as well. With luck and success, both of them heard him and Bulma immediately shoved Goku out of the way and rubbed her hands over Vegeta’s face, neck and shoulders, crying like the world was ending. Goku, however, gave Vegeta a disbelieving stare.

Growing tired of the weeping woman and the stupid look upon the other’s face, he spoke as loud and rude as he could through his oxygen mask. “Stop your pathetic crying and get off me, woman! Tell me what the hell is going on.”

Though muffled, both heard what he said and fell eerily silent. Bulma complied with her lover’s demands and sat heavily in a chair and Kakarot went back to his previous spot. He was the one brave enough to answer, though the insecurity, fear and even dread about what he was going say was evident from a mile away.

“Vegeta, uh, I don’t know how to tell you this. I mean, even the doctors don’t understand. Crazy, right?!” He forced out a laugh in an attempt to lighten the gloomy mood as well as soften the blow of what he was about to say, though the happy expression quickly depleted, his own attempt to appease the tension failing at what was coming next. Scratching the back of his head, Goku continued, his face riddled with uncertainty. “Uh, Vegeta. You, somehow.. are dying.”

Vegeta’s breath stuck in his throat and he felt his entire body lock in place. He regretted ever awakening. A different kind of pain that was eternally worse than the physical one he was experiencing coiled around every centimeter of his frame the instant he heard those words, and he felt his world collapse. Swallowing dryly and with difficulty, he decided to remain silent and, although questions and confusion held fast to his distraught and spinning head, he willed himself to continue to listen to the words of the other Saiyajin, refusing to demonstrate any outer emotions provoked by his inner struggle.

“Bulma and I were trying to look for solutions concerning your health and went to the Lookout to consult Dende, and he said even senzu beans wouldn’t help. They would prolong your life, but since we don’t know how far you are in this illness, they might not do anything at all.”

At the mention of Dende, Vegeta’s mind reeled and he almost smirked as a single thought surfaced. The Dragonballs! Stupid Frieza! He could be wished back with the dragonballs, or better yet! The stupid Namekian could restore his health with his healing powers! Just as he was about to voice his thoughts, however, and almost as if she knew what the Prince was going to say, Bulma spoke up in a broken tone.

“W-we asked him if he could come and heal you, b-but he said it w-wouldn’t work. He said that this is something irreversible and it was even b-beyond the Dragon’s p-power. He was impressed and confused. W-we don’t know what to do!”

Feeling too weak to even muster up a scowl, the Prince slowly closed his eyes and took small breaths.

“Get me a senzu or two then. We will try those.”

After that, he fell silent and heard and felt Kakarot leave to get – he assumed – the beans. Bulma left the room to collect herself again, and Vegeta was left alone with his thoughts.

He didn’t like the thought of dying in such a way, or any way at all. Granted that the thought never frightened the warrior before, but now.. Now he had a son, ‘friends,’ Bulma, and, yes, the one he’d secretly loved and held endearment for, for so long, Kakarot. Kami, he still needed to confess to that clown. He couldn’t die without letting him know how he felt. He was going to do it at the party, but anything that happened after he took that single step out of the room had been erased from his memory. Vegeta didn’t know he had accidentally let it slip. He was in too much pain and his mind was too fogged to recall any of the events after he fainted, only to wake up in some hospital room, to then hear those news from Kakarot’s lips. No, this couldn’t be.

Vegeta told himself what he told everyone. He was the Prince. He was a Saiyajin warrior, an elite. Only the weak die such a pitiful death. He would be damned if he let the lizard freak win like this. He wasn’t going to die without a fight.

It was with that last thought that the slowly dying Saiyajin slipped into a fitful sleep.
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R&R pls
Thank you my lovely beta!