Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Slave ❯ The Awakening ( Chapter 52 )

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or the characters.

 

A/N - Umm...I've had this sitting on my computer for several years now, and that's kind of sad. I'm so so sorry for leaving everybody hanging with that last chapter. I intend to revise this fic and fix up all the horrid mistakes at some point...but I need to finish it and this fic is not done yet. Thank you if you have stuck with me and thank you if you were one of the people who emailed me and got me writing again. You know who you are.

 

 

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Vegeta watched silently as the medical emergency crew loaded Bulma into a life support pod and hurried her away with enough speed to suggest that they were genuinely concerned about her health. He listened to one of the medics calling out progressively lower numbers for her blood pressure, while a female medical staff member spoke anxiously into her COM-link requesting any information about human biology. One medic spared an anxious look in Vegeta's direction and hastily bowed as they evacuated the room in the hope of saving the frail humans life.

 

It was no wonder they were worried. Vegeta had been very clear when he'd told them that if she died; then they died.

 

As the team left the room Vegeta turned back to look at the huge red puddle that had soaked into the carpet near the couch. Bulma's blood wasn't just confined to the carpet though, it was everywhere: on the couch, over their clothes and even splashed into a nearby wall. Vegeta refastened the towel he had around his waist and slowly walked back to look at what he'd done.

 

He had absolutely no doubt that Bulma coming within an inch of death's door was entirely his fault, and this was no little thing for him to admit. It would have been perfectly normal for him to blame her. After all, she'd brought all of this upon herself by leaving him. Not to mention that she was only a slave and he was well within his rights to punish her…

 

But he hadn't been punishing her, not like he'd been planning on doing. He had come to her room intending to hurt her. Really hurt her. He'd been planning on breaking fingers, slapping her around and using other less pleasant forms of torture. Of course, the minute he'd come into the room and found her sleeping on the couch he hadn't been able to do anything.

 

He'd sat down and watched her, unable to take his eyes off her as he'd drunk her in visually. It hadn't been until she'd started whimpering in her sleep that he'd spoken her name to wake her. She'd looked amazing as she'd opened her eyes; so beautiful and so wonderfully frightened. He'd been spellbound for several moments when she'd fastened those baby blue eyes on him. Every thought about torturing her had vanished from his head and all he'd wanted to do was have her back in his arms again. He'd still wanted to hurt her, but it was the kind of hurt he knew they'd both like. He really hadn't been able to control himself. He'd crossed the room and taken her as though she'd never been away.

 

Weaking...Vegeta thought angrily to himself as he knelt near the blood and breathed in it's still warm scent. When he'd finally had her beneath him again he'd been much rougher then normal, but he hadn't been able to help it. Part of him had still been angry about her running away and he'd used that anger to turn sex into the punishment, but by the Gods the rougher he'd been the better it had felt. The woman was probably lucky he hadn't killed her. He hadn't cared about her safety or her well being, he'd just wanted that pleasure back again.

 

Sex and pain had always gone together for him. In fact the worse he treated the women in the bed the better it felt for him. It wasn't actually about hurting the other person; it was about having control and power over them. The excitement he felt when he had a woman at his mercy was almost better then the act of sex itself. Almost. He'd killed women in the act of sex trying to get a sense of that power.

 

One of the reasons that he was still attracted to Bulma was because she made him feel powerful. She did everything that he wanted - she whimpered, she moaned and she somehow managed to be sexy and passive at the same time.

 

How a mere human could be the perfect bedmate for a Saiyan King was beyond him. He probably should have killed her a long time ago…but he would have missed her. She made him feel amazing, and it was so rare that he felt like that with a woman that she was worth keeping around...but still he couldn't help but feel that somehow she was making him weak.

 

Her little confession of love was confusing because he'd never had anyone love him before…at least not once he'd had a woman in his bed for the night. Women who usually claimed to be in love with him would flee in horror once he'd had his way with them. But Bulma, a mere human, loved him. She loved what he did to her - the pain, the helplessness and the imprisonment. He didn't know what to think about it.

 

He didn't love her, but he did feel something for her, something that he hadn't felt for anybody before: protective. Not protective because she was his property, but because he couldn't stand the thought of anybody else touching her and hurting her. It didn't seem wrong for him to hurt her, because she liked it. But if anybody else tried to hurt her and cause her pain…well, he would kill them.

 

No, it was definitely not love her felt for her, but Bulma Briefs was his and he was going to make sure that she stayed his.

 

 

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Bulma didn't dream. She woke from a strange numbing silence to find herself suspended in a warm gel-like substance. Waking happened slowly, bit by bit. She floated in and out of consciousness for days, sometimes hearing strange distorted voices, and sometimes seeing blurred shapes through eyes that couldn't focus properly. When she finally pulled herself out of the blackness of sleep properly she realised she really was suspended in a gel and that she was breathing through a respirator.

 

For her first few conscious moments she struggled to remember where she was, what she was and who she was. Gradually the foggy grogginess lifted and she remembered everything - Vegeta, the sex and the pain. She also remembered that she couldn't breath underwater and despite the respirator Bulma felt the first pangs of panic set in.

 

She couldn't hear anything clearly, see anything clearly and when she reached out a hand it hit a sold smooth wall. Just as the creeping fear that came from being deprived of your major senses was gathering itself into a tidal wave, there was a high-pitched `ping' and the gel began to drain away. She opened her eyes to find that a saiyan medic was staring at her through the blurry glass of a healing tank.

 

“...pulse seems to be steadying and her respitory rate has returned to normal.” The medical was jotting down notes on a clipboard as she spoke, looking Bulma over with a slightly superior air. “Inform His Royal Highness that his...” the medic stared at Bulma again with a slight curl to her lips, “...cuncubine has recovered and is now out of the healing tank.”

 

The woman turned and walked away from the tank, her high heels clicking sharply on the floor. Bulma winced slightly as the gel drained completely and she was deposited on the floor of the tank on her knees, barely with enough strength to stop herself from collapsing to the side. The glass plate on the front of the tank slid down and cold air hit Bulma's sensitive skin, instantly she began to tremble and shiver.

 

A male medic took a step into the tank and began detaching the respiration, nodes and sensors from her skin, he handed her a small drying cloth and without so much as sneaking a peek he her helped her to her feet and all but carried her to an examination table. Bulma clumsily tried to wipe the drying gel from her body, but her fingers and hands felt numb and useless and she moved far slower then normal. The medic took the towel from her and began to do the job himself, effectively wiping the slimy stuff from her skin and lessening the intense feeling of cold that was assaulting her.

 

“What...happened...to me?” She asked between chattering teeth. The medic glanced up and threw the soaked towel away, then handed her a robe which he helped her into.

 

“You suffered several internal injuries and came close to dying from shock and blood loss.” The medic finished tieing the sash of the robe and then turned ot retrieve the clipboard which the female medic had had earlier. He read over the notes and then began to perform a physical examination on Bulma, adding extra notes to what the medic earlier had written.

 

Bulma remained quiet after that, only speaking when the medic asked her questions about how she felt. She could remember what Vegeta had done to her, but she didn't know quite how close to death she had come. Interestingly, although she felt extremely weak and her mind felt quite numb, her body didn't actually hurt at all. In fact considering what had been done to her, she didn't seem to have any bruising or physical injuries. She was just so incredibly weak.

 

Somewhat absently, Bulma wondered if the strange detachment she felt was from the tank...or if it was from the weight that had been lifted from her shoulders with her admission to Vegeta. Finally facing that she liked being his whore, and that she liked what he did to her and loved him for doing it hadn't been the easiest thing to come to grips with. It was one thing to realise it while in the throws of esctasy, it was quite another to face up to it in the cold hard light of day. For the first time in years Bulma felt completely unsure of herself and even a little anxious about the future. Had she done the right thing by admitting her feelings to Vegeta or had she made a mistake of epic preportions?

 

Despite the anxiety swirling about inside of her, she did feel free for the first time. If Vegeta had ensured that she got medical treatment after her 'punishment' then surely he didn't find the prospect of her being in love with him completely repulsive...and if she could finally find peace with her situation then surely life might be a little easier for her? She might not be free in a literal sense, but if she liked her current situation then surely she was free in other ways? Gods, all she wanted now was peace. After what she had gone through with Ilandra, she just wanted a break from all the melodrama that had ruled her life in the Icejin Empire.

 

Abruptly, the door to the treatment room that Bulma was in swung open and her train of thought was shattered as a saiyan warrior entered the room and her eyes clashed with two familiar coal black eyes. Kakarot stood to attention beside the door and held it open while Vegeta strode through, instantly sending the medics into a frenzy of activity around her. Kakarot held Bulma's gaze for a mere instant and Bulma read the message in his eyes easily - say nothing to me and pretend I'm not here - then he tore his eyes away from her and stared straight ahead with a look of boredom.

 

Bulma bit down hard on the inside of her lip to stop herself from laughing as Vegeta strode towards her, the strange detachment she felt making the situation of being in the same room as her master and her secret lover at the same time into something which she found plain hilarious; she was such an idiot! She should have just left Kakarot alone on that damned spaceship instead of trying to seduce him...Gods, she always did stupid things when she was backed into a corner.

 

Vegeta halted in front of her and crossed his arms over his chest as he surveyed her, neither of them speaking. The severe look on his face and the defensive body language he was giving out was too much for Bulma and a small giggle slipped past her tightly sealed lips. The medics around her immediately began to make medical excuses for her 'behaviour', fearing no doubt, that the prince would blame them for what they considered rude and insubordinate behaviour.

 

“I see you're feeling better.” He murmured at her, raising an eyebrow and silencing the medics with a wave. Instantly the medical staff receeded like a wave out the treatment room door, Kakarot following them out and closing the door behind him without so much as a look in Bulma and Vegeta's direction.

 

Bulma shrugged, “Well, I'm not dead and they tell me I was more then halfway there, so yeah, I'm feeling better.” She absently pulled the robe around her tighter and almost jumped when she found Vegeta's hands over hers, his movement so fast she had missed it.

 

His hands closed over hers and moved them away from the front of her robe, pressing them down against the table, and then moving back up to the robe fastening. He untied it and spread the material apart so that it framed her body. Bulma barely breathed as, with a look that was more curious then lustful, he cast his gaze down her body as though assuring himself that she hadn't been marked during their last meeting. He brushed her hair away from her neck and frowned slightly at whatever it was that he saw.

 

“You have a scar.” He touched it very gently and then stepped back from her, crossing his arms back over his chest again and watching as she closed her robe back up.

 

“I have lots of scars,” Bulma reminded him, “and most of them are from you.”

 

“Quite true, but I asked them to heal you perfectly.” Vegeta paced the room and picked up the medical clipboard, reading the scrawled notes with mild interest. “Perhaps I should kill one of them as an example of what happens when they fail me?”

 

Bulma shrugged and smoothed down the robe, knowing that his question didn't require an answer but wanting to give one anyway. The atmosphere between them was strained and conversation was helping to break the tension. “If you're going to kill one of them then kill the bitch woman.” Vegeta raised an eyebrow in query and Bulma added, “She was rude to me.”

 

The saiyan prince nodded and tossed the clipboard back down and faced her squarely, his black eyes narrowing as he caught her in his gaze and evidently decided to spit out whatever was on his mind. “I'm not going to say sorry for almost killing you, I thought you should know that. I'm also not about to confess undying love for you or set you free and send you back to Earth, if that was the intention of your little confession.”

 

“I know.” Bulma nodded. “I'm not expecting anything from you except perhaps what you've always given me, but I did mean what I said. I love you...I'm not sure why,” she let a tone of self mockery come into her voice, “but I do.”

 

Vegeta nodded slowly, “You're an idiot...and I am going to kill you one day when I get tired of you.” Despite his threatening words his tone was almost affectionant and he slowly moved closer to her again.

 

“Oh, I know,” She told him, glancing up coyly from beneath her aqua locks, sensing the change in the atmosphere between them, “But I'm sure you've had one or two fantasies about things you'd like to do to me, while I've been gone,” She licked her lower lip slightly and his eyes flicked down to follow her tongues progress, “and I'm looking forward to having you do each and every one of them to me.”

 

Vegeta moved even closer to her, his eyes dark with lust, and reached a hand into her hair, clasping a hanful of it and roughly jerking her head to the side. She gasped with pain and cried out when she felt his other hand grab both of her hands pin them to the side.

Smirking he lowered his lips to her ear, “Oh, you wouldn't believe the things I've dreampt, Bulma...”

 

 

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A/N - I do intend to finish this fic, and this is not the ending just yet. In case anyone has forgotten, Frieza is alive and well and on his way to destroy the Earth...plus I have a couple of nice ideas for some future lemons.