Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Doubts ❯ Desperation ( Chapter 8 )

Doubts: Chapter 8

He was a vagrant. He wandered listlessly from city and hamlet alike, finding neither solace nor camaraderie in either. At times he would hop trains, hitchhike... whatever moved him from country to city and then back again in a timeless waltz only those of his station would understand. There was no name for one such as he; any true name that was applied to him was quickly lost as he traveled from area to area. There were a great many other names, of course, but none that he was ultimately fond of.

He was many things, and well known for them, too. Those that had the misfortune of crossing his path could describe him as a beggar, cheat, thief, con-artist, and manipulator. He hadn't had the chance to earn titles even lower on that sunken scale, but he was always up for the challenge. To his great, twisted delight, he had found that fate smiled upon him yet again through her few, golden teeth. The two females that had passed him almost half an hour ago were now without their precious mode of transportation. The little miscreants had nearly sideswiped him as he had ambled along, minding his own business. With a desperate hop based solely on luck, he had managed to avert his person from their poor steering abilities. In fact, they had barely noticed him at all as they had zipped on ahead. He was used to going unnoticed and undefined, but no one would put him in harm's way and act like it never happened. No one, he silently vowed.

So now here they were on foot, without the speed and agility of their fancy, polished motorbike. As he came closer to their slight forms, he finally began to see how young they appeared. He did not know what they were doing without their motorcycle, or how even ones of their age group had managed to drive such a thing, but he did get the impression that they were of some wealth. After all, what kind of parents would give their young children a brand new motorcycle to go gallivanting about in? The answer was simple. Those were the people with far too much spare cash on the side. Therefore, it only led him to believe that if he got his mitts on those girls, he could enact a whopping sum.

He had to play it carefully. One wrong move and the two could reasonably give him some grief. He had never been a kidnapper, molester or murderer, but he would do what he had to if the situation called for it.

On the girls' side of things, the creepy, middle-aged man was nothing but another obstacle to overcome. He was uncalled for and unwanted, but they would have to deal with him anyhow. With less than a quarter of a kilometer between them now, Bra darted a frantic hand out to Pan, clamping it down on the crook of her elbow. Still whispering in muted tones, she exclaimed, "I think we should head off the road, Pan! That man.. he scares me!"

Pan attempted to shake the hand off in exasperation. "Stop it, Bra! He'll hear you!"

Indeed, it was too late. Although he couldn't hear the full length of their quiet banter, the hitchhiker picked up snippets. 'He'll hear you!' hit him loud and clear.

Briskly staunching off the last of the meters that dwindled in the gap between himself and the children, the man stopped only when he had breached their range of personal space. With a deep, sweeping bow, he gave a crooked grin down at the pair. "Evenin', ladies."

Pan and Bra came to a sudden halt, their jaws going slack. Now that they were so close, they took in the irregularities of his appearance and demeanor. The irises of his eyes were not twins of each other, as the left was a muddy brown, leaving the right to the color of an indistinguishable gray. Potholes dotted the exaggeratedly large chunk of cartilage that was known as his nose, while his beard hung in gnarls of greasy face-fur. At the same time, he greeted them courteously, which was in a manner inconsistent with the way he appeared.

Pan spoke first, bravely putting the younger girl behind her while she backed them both up a few paces by pushing against Bra steadily in reverse. "Uh, hey.."

"Yeah, hi.." Bra seconded.

A maniacal gleam transversed the extent of the man's mismatched eyes. "You two made quite the impression on your motorcycle a little while back. I was impressed by your driving." As the bum lied through his teeth, he was unaware of the fact that the motorcycle in question was still fully function, albeit scratched and dinged. Not only that, but it was surrounded by better food than he had seen in a month's time. If he had known that, he just might of given up on the two kids, opting to satiate his needs and wants sooner, while going to less trouble for it.

"You really think?" Bra chirped, instantly warming up to the man by his flattery.

Pan was not so convinced. "Yeah, uh, thanks. We need to be going now." She grabbed Bra by her upper arm, hauling her along a large, invisible circumference that she had created around the filthy vagrant.

Bra gave the man a helpless little wave, as well as one of those sickeningly sugar-sweet smiles that she was famous for. "Nice to meet you. Bye!"

"Now, just wait a darn minute!" The disparaged man's voice rose, carrying a commanding note. Both girls froze in their tracks as he reached out to them. Like deer frozen in headlights, they stared in terror and disgust as his grimy digits floated closer and closer like detached tendrils. Dirt was imbedded beneath his fingernails, and his palms were encrusted with the remnants of dried sweat and more filth.

Bra zeroed in on this facet instantly, and let anyone within earshot know her opinion on the matter. "Ewww!" Without anymore urging by Pan, she was already struggling to put distance between herself and the unclean male.

Pan had dropped into a defensive crouch, releasing Bra to put up her hands before her. They tightened into fists, while her eyes narrowed. Despite the rapid beating of her heart, reminiscent of a caged hummingbird, she stood her ground. She had been trained to fight, and even though the strange, little man before her was a head or so taller, she was ready to take him on if need be. Underneath it all, she was scared to death. Never before had she so desperately depended on the training her father and mother handed down to her.

The hitchhiker watched as the ebony-haired child prepared to fight him. He rubbed his hands together, and then cracked them lewdly. All pretenses had vanished within a wisp of smoke. "Little baby wants to fight?" He couldn't believe the absurdity. "Bring it on."

"Get out of here, Bra!" It was Pan calling over her shoulder to the frightened six-year-old standing just behind her.

Bra swallowed, feeling the blood pumping to her ears like a savage drumbeat. She was scared, there was no doubt about that, but something else kept her glued to the spot in which she still stood. She couldn't leave Pan to fight that monster all by herself, no way. At the same time, she knew she had no knowledge of martial arts skills whatsoever. It didn't matter much to her, in the end. It was a time of duress, and Bra saw Pan as her best friend. She couldn't leave her hanging, no matter what happened.

When no answer came on Bra's behalf, Pan forced herself to keep her eyes on the cold creature directly in front of her. One measly slip and it would all be over before it had even begun. "I said run, Bra!"

"NO!" Bra cried, jumping forward so that she was even with Pan. "I'm not leaving you with him!"

The hitchhiker shook his head at the piteous display that was transpiring before him. The way those girls acted, one could have sworn that they actually believed they had a chance against him. "This is so sweet," he intoned darkly, his veiled gaze switching back and forth between Bra and Pan, "..But I have no time for semantics. Time to come with me, kiddies." He latched a hand onto Pan's shoulder first, being she was the closest to him and likely to give him the most trouble by a scant margin.

Before he even knew what hit him, Pan had issued a battle cry and let him sample the taste of a round kick to the temple. He staggered back, eyes bulging and protruding comically from their small sockets. One hand went to steady the burning throb in his skull, while he shouted, "You little bitch! You'll pay for that!" Lunging forward, he dived for the girl, arms wide and foreboding.

His overt attention was thanked by an uppercut to the chin on the second attack. His head reeled backwards, snapping skyward with a click. Stunned, he wasted a few precious moments by getting his bearings straight and holding his ugly mug in his hands. Distantly, he could hear the younger one cheering the black-haired child on.

"Yeah, Pan! You show him who's boss!"

Yes, the smaller girl. He had no idea that the older one possessed any fighting technique whatsoever, but the younger was definitely more naive. He doubted that she knew how to defend herself at all, foretold by the way she hid behind the brat that had hit him. As the first rivulet of crimson blood made its way down the corner of his hairy mouth, he turned on them again. The smile he wore stopped them in their tracks. Without warning, he charged a third time.

Pan was momentarily taken off guard by the funny, little grin he had worn. She hadn't expected it, and the act alone dropped her defense for a moment or two. That was all the vagrant needed. He shoved Pan to her knees by ramming a greasy fist into her chest. She collapsed, winded. It was all she could do to watch as he grabbed a horrified Bra by the collar of her dress and lifted her as if she weighed nothing. As Bra dangled like a rag doll over the man's beaten and bruised noggin, he laughed contentedly at his accomplishment. The blue-haired girl kicked and struggled, fighting to free herself as the first tears sprung to her eyes. "Lemme go!!!"

Coughing and forcing her contorted lungs to draw breath, Pan drew upon the last of her strength to drive herself to her feet. She took one shaky step towards the wanderer that held Bra, before her knees gave out. Her kneecaps hit the hard asphalt a second time, the muscles weak from the lack of oxygen her lungs would not supply.

In the meantime, the grimy man was flinging Bra back and forth, causing the girl to swing back and forth through the air. The constriction of her collar about her neck began to create deep red welts, while the material cut into her skin with each jerk. She was sobbing openly now, but for once she didn't shut her eyes to do it. While the man brayed his triumph, she watched carefully for the exact moment that one of her legs came into the airspace near his head. One good kick and... there! Taking her opportunity, tears still trailing freely down the contours of her cheeks, Bra landed the front of a small, closed-toed shoe into the hitchhiker's mouth. He let out a strangled cry as she broke several teeth, shattering his jaw like glass. The man let go in complete agony, temporarily forgetting about his prey. Bra dropped to the ground, landing in a heap at his feet.

Once firmly back on the ground, Bra stood upright in one swift motion. She raced to Pan, crying in near-hysterics. Pan had by then reached a certain point where a bit of breathing was possible if done slowly and carefully, but the surprise at what Bra had done was temporarily causing her to forget to do that at all. "C'mon, Pan! We- we- gotta go!" Bra wiped at her reddening face, trying in vain to remove the blurry tears from her eyes.

Pan nodded, not quite ready to speak yet. With a little help from Bra, she stood and the two made their way around the man, who had by then sunk to his knees. He was grappling at his lower face and beard, making gurgling protests within his throat. His beady eyes were bloodshot, and his own red fluid had escaped their capillaries to spill down the front of his gray beard, matting it to his shirt. His bulbous orbs were rolling uncontrollably about him, as if he had completely gone stark raving mad. As far as the girls knew, he had already been from the beginning.

They left him there, gasping themselves as they took off at the fastest pace possible down the road. Pan had recovered well for the blow she had taken, but it wasn't enough to keep a good speed going. Bra wasn't doing much better, still convulsing with sobs and unable to go full throttle with the emotional torment assailing her mind. Still, they made a point to hold hands as they moved on at the best rate possible. They never really got very far.

Something fell from the sky with such a force that it rendered them blind for a span of seconds. They both felt a familiar presence and a steady, pulsating ki that reeked of power. A voice drifted through their muddled senses, a cry of relief. "BRA! PAN!" It was Bulma's voice.

The next thing Bra knew, she was being scooped up yet again, only the hands that held her now were gentle and meant her no harm. Bulma wrapped her child in her embrace, squeezing her against her chest the moment Vegeta set her down. Bra sniffled once, letting herself fall into the deep feeling of security that wrapped about her like a fuzzy blanket. She began to bawl again, harder than ever.

Pan eyed Bulma and Vegeta, before closing the gap between herself, Bulma and Bra. It felt so good to be near them again... people she knew and trusted. Yes, even she was glad to see Vegeta at that particular moment. It was nothing she would admit aloud, but he was definitely runner up to having either Goku, Gohan or Videl present. Taking a few more shallow sips of air, Pan collapsed heavily against Bulma and Bra in pure relief. She shared the same emotion as the other two in the heaviest of doses, and the long gazes they shared let each other know it.

While Bulma encompassed Pan into the hug she shared with Bra, Vegeta took the time to unfold the scene piece by piece. Upon pinpointing his daughter and her friend's ki, he had landed only to be greeted by a panting Pan and a weeping Bra. If Pan were not there, he just might have bended to the overwhelming instinct of thoroughly checking over his daughter for signs of damage or harm. As he spared a look to the three females, he could tell that Bulma had by now already taken up the initiative with them. His blood boiled at the stunt they had pulled, and what was worse was that he had no idea of what led them to act as they did now. His mate's concerned voice soon drifted through his calculations, interrupting his train of thoughts. Only then did he sense a fourth ki that was not his own. His head snapped upright, his eyes narrowing down at the tremulous form of a slouched man a few meters up the road. He began to put two and two together.

"Oh, Pan! Lean against me, don't strain yourself..." A pause, and then, "Oh, sweetie! What are those awful marks on your neck?!" Even Bulma sounded as if she were on the verge of tears with these new findings.

Lightning arced and cracked around the Saiyan, his power boosting beyond what it usually did, fed by the rage and disgust that dampened his better logic. He did not waste words on what would happen next, nor did he dally any longer next to Bulma, Pan and Bra. He was beyond reasoning, even if they had said something about his behavior. It wouldn't have mattered, anyways. Not any one of Earth's strongest armies could have even delayed the inevitable.

Vegeta stalked forward towards the vagrant, hell-bent on redemption for the fate of the two girls.

-AN: Thanks for all the reviews, guys! I'll keep going and finish, not to worry. As soon as this story ends, I'm going to begin a new one that will be far longer. I know lots of people have done this before, but I want to actually write a fanfic about Vegeta and Bulma during those infamous first three years. Whaddya think? Thanks!

Disclaimer: You know how this goes...