Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Warning ❯ Chapter Two ( Chapter 2 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Andais Jacobs 
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Drama | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 04.17.2009 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.4K | Visits: 256 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Drama | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 04.17.2009 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.4K | Visits: 256 | Status: Work In Progress
A/N: Thank you to everyone that has read this so far. I'm trying to write something a little different than I usually do and every review will help tremendously. The last chapter and this one are kinda short but I promise they will get longer as the story progresses. Remember I don't own the song or the series and I don't make money off of this.
It was mid afternoon when the plane touched down on the tailored green grass of the Capsule Corporation Compound in West City. Trunks carried Marron into the house behind his mother and she led the way to the guest bedroom. He laid Marron gently down on the large bed and as he pulled away to leave, she grabbed his arm.
“There’s no time to waste; they’re coming.” She said, speaking English for the first time since she’d been found yesterday. Trunks’ eyes widen as he sat on the bed beside her.
“Who’s coming, Marron? What do they want?” Her eyes widened in terror and then squeezed shut. While the tears streamed down her face, she let out a high pitched shriek and brought her tiny fists to her head, hitting herself repeatedly before Trunks could stop her.
“Marron Chestnut, twenty-five year old female. Displays catatonic state between bouts of psychotic incidents, speaking a language unknown to humans. Full brain MRI commencing at five PM.” Dr. Brief said aloud to himself as he wrote in the manila folder. He looked up and watched the hard bed of the MRI machine slide into the machine with Marron lying on it.
“Trunks, I want you to go to her apartment and see if you can find anything there.” Bulma said to her only son as they sat at the dinette in the kitchen, eating dinner.
“Mom, I don’t feel comfortable there. I don’t think I can do it.” He said quietly, not looking up from his plate.
“If I could get back to Satan City as fast as you can, I’d go myself.” She sighed and took her sons hand. “You didn’t cause this, sweetheart. The two of you broke up awhile ago and she was fine. I’m not sure what’s changed in the last month since we saw her but there may be a clue in her house. Please do this for me.” He nodded, finishing his dinner.
The door to her apartment was unlocked and he quietly let himself in, flicking the light switch. The harsh yellow light coming from the ceiling fan splashed angry shadows on the walls and illuminated the filthy apartment. Trash was pitched everywhere and broken glass littered the floor. Trunks picked up a shard and found it to be a drinking glass. He moved into the kitchen next and found the same mess there. He continued, looking for something other than broken glasses and shredded newspaper, and found himself standing in front of her bedroom door.
He hesitated, mustering enough courage to open the door. The door squeaked on the hinges, sending an eerie noise through the silent apartment, and he flicked the switch by the door. After flicking it up and down a few times, he realized the bulb was out and me moved into the pitch black room, feeling for the bedside lamp. The dim bulb barely light the room and he looked down, finding the only clean thing in the apartment. On the night stand sat two pictures, one of Marron and her parents, the other of him and Marron just weeks before they’d broken up.
He stared through the glass at himself; he’d looked so happy with his arms encircling her. After a few lingering moments, he pulled himself away from the picture and looked at the wall across from him. The wall was covered floor to ceiling, corner to corner in colored sticky notes.
As he turned to put the picture down, an arm wrapped around his neck and pushed him into the corner.
“Where’s my daughter?” a cold voice whispered in his ear.
“Android 18?” Her arm tightened around his neck and the hand from her other arm gripped his hair painfully, jerking his head back to one side.
“Where’s my fucking daughter?” His hands went to her arm, trying to pry her off.
“Let me go.” Trunks gasped, as his airway closed off.
“I could rip your head off in a second. Now, tell me where she is.” She hissed in his ear.
“Compound.” Was all Trunks could gasp out. With a shove, she pushed him into the wall, banging his head off of it. His vision blurred as he fell and he was unable to stop himself from falling into the night stand.
As Bulma walked to her room to get some much needed rest, she passed by Marron’s room and paused, peeking in through the cracked door. She heard her husband inside, speaking the gutternal language of his race, and after a few moments she her Marron respond in the same language. Bulma lingered for a moment before continuing down the hall to her room.
Vegeta entered his bedroom some time later and found his mate sitting up in bed reading a book. He pulled his clothes off and got under the covers in only his boxer shorts.
“So, what did she say?” Bulma asked him, marking her page and setting the book aside.
“She said she had a dream last week about three Saiyans. They told her that they were on their way here.” He replied simply.
“But why are they coming?” she asked, growing annoyed with him.
“It seems as though these Saiyans have gone back to planet harvesting to make a living.”
“That’s it?” Bulma said, laughing. “Three Saiyans? Don’t your people read history books? If they did, they’d know what happened to the last three Saiyans to come here. No offense, darling.” Vegeta huffed in response.
“They’re still in her mind; talking to her and telling her to do things. They are very powerful to be able to do that from so far away but don’t worry, woman. I’ll destroy all of them when they get here.”
“How long do we have?”
“A week. Ten twenty-four means October twenty fourth.” As Bulma sank down into the soft mattress, she remembered what had happened earlier.
“Vegeta, she spoke to us in English earlier and then she started screaming and hitting herself. We had to sedate her to get her to settle down.”
“Like I told you, woman, they are still in her head and as far as I can tell they don’t understand our language yet. They are picking up bits and pieces as people speak to her but when she speaks to us, they get angry. And before you ask, no I don’t know how she is speaking my language. Now, go to bed.”
He woke some time later on the floor of her dirty apartment. He lifted his head, wincing in pain, and tried to remember where he was. It came to him after a few moments and he put his hand to his forehead, feeling the tacky dried blood there. The lamp had fallen and shattered when he’d smashed into it. He pulled his cell phone out, using the light from it to see where he was going and walked over to the opposite wall.
He held his cell phone up to the sticky notes and started reading them. ‘They want me to understand.’ ‘It hurts.’ And ‘They’re coming’ were written over and over again, along with ‘10:24’.
Trunks searched the apartment once more and, after finding nothing else, he left. He raced the sun home to West City and crawled into bed just in time to see the sun peek through his window.
She landed on cat like feet on the balcony outside her daughter’s bedroom and waited. After hearing Vegeta leave, she opened the French door quietly and entered the room. Her daughter laid facing away from her on the bed across the room. Android 18 glided over to the bed and lay down behind her daughter, holding her close.
It was mid afternoon when the plane touched down on the tailored green grass of the Capsule Corporation Compound in West City. Trunks carried Marron into the house behind his mother and she led the way to the guest bedroom. He laid Marron gently down on the large bed and as he pulled away to leave, she grabbed his arm.
“There’s no time to waste; they’re coming.” She said, speaking English for the first time since she’d been found yesterday. Trunks’ eyes widen as he sat on the bed beside her.
“Who’s coming, Marron? What do they want?” Her eyes widened in terror and then squeezed shut. While the tears streamed down her face, she let out a high pitched shriek and brought her tiny fists to her head, hitting herself repeatedly before Trunks could stop her.
“Marron Chestnut, twenty-five year old female. Displays catatonic state between bouts of psychotic incidents, speaking a language unknown to humans. Full brain MRI commencing at five PM.” Dr. Brief said aloud to himself as he wrote in the manila folder. He looked up and watched the hard bed of the MRI machine slide into the machine with Marron lying on it.
“Trunks, I want you to go to her apartment and see if you can find anything there.” Bulma said to her only son as they sat at the dinette in the kitchen, eating dinner.
“Mom, I don’t feel comfortable there. I don’t think I can do it.” He said quietly, not looking up from his plate.
“If I could get back to Satan City as fast as you can, I’d go myself.” She sighed and took her sons hand. “You didn’t cause this, sweetheart. The two of you broke up awhile ago and she was fine. I’m not sure what’s changed in the last month since we saw her but there may be a clue in her house. Please do this for me.” He nodded, finishing his dinner.
The door to her apartment was unlocked and he quietly let himself in, flicking the light switch. The harsh yellow light coming from the ceiling fan splashed angry shadows on the walls and illuminated the filthy apartment. Trash was pitched everywhere and broken glass littered the floor. Trunks picked up a shard and found it to be a drinking glass. He moved into the kitchen next and found the same mess there. He continued, looking for something other than broken glasses and shredded newspaper, and found himself standing in front of her bedroom door.
He hesitated, mustering enough courage to open the door. The door squeaked on the hinges, sending an eerie noise through the silent apartment, and he flicked the switch by the door. After flicking it up and down a few times, he realized the bulb was out and me moved into the pitch black room, feeling for the bedside lamp. The dim bulb barely light the room and he looked down, finding the only clean thing in the apartment. On the night stand sat two pictures, one of Marron and her parents, the other of him and Marron just weeks before they’d broken up.
He stared through the glass at himself; he’d looked so happy with his arms encircling her. After a few lingering moments, he pulled himself away from the picture and looked at the wall across from him. The wall was covered floor to ceiling, corner to corner in colored sticky notes.
As he turned to put the picture down, an arm wrapped around his neck and pushed him into the corner.
“Where’s my daughter?” a cold voice whispered in his ear.
“Android 18?” Her arm tightened around his neck and the hand from her other arm gripped his hair painfully, jerking his head back to one side.
“Where’s my fucking daughter?” His hands went to her arm, trying to pry her off.
“Let me go.” Trunks gasped, as his airway closed off.
“I could rip your head off in a second. Now, tell me where she is.” She hissed in his ear.
“Compound.” Was all Trunks could gasp out. With a shove, she pushed him into the wall, banging his head off of it. His vision blurred as he fell and he was unable to stop himself from falling into the night stand.
As Bulma walked to her room to get some much needed rest, she passed by Marron’s room and paused, peeking in through the cracked door. She heard her husband inside, speaking the gutternal language of his race, and after a few moments she her Marron respond in the same language. Bulma lingered for a moment before continuing down the hall to her room.
Vegeta entered his bedroom some time later and found his mate sitting up in bed reading a book. He pulled his clothes off and got under the covers in only his boxer shorts.
“So, what did she say?” Bulma asked him, marking her page and setting the book aside.
“She said she had a dream last week about three Saiyans. They told her that they were on their way here.” He replied simply.
“But why are they coming?” she asked, growing annoyed with him.
“It seems as though these Saiyans have gone back to planet harvesting to make a living.”
“That’s it?” Bulma said, laughing. “Three Saiyans? Don’t your people read history books? If they did, they’d know what happened to the last three Saiyans to come here. No offense, darling.” Vegeta huffed in response.
“They’re still in her mind; talking to her and telling her to do things. They are very powerful to be able to do that from so far away but don’t worry, woman. I’ll destroy all of them when they get here.”
“How long do we have?”
“A week. Ten twenty-four means October twenty fourth.” As Bulma sank down into the soft mattress, she remembered what had happened earlier.
“Vegeta, she spoke to us in English earlier and then she started screaming and hitting herself. We had to sedate her to get her to settle down.”
“Like I told you, woman, they are still in her head and as far as I can tell they don’t understand our language yet. They are picking up bits and pieces as people speak to her but when she speaks to us, they get angry. And before you ask, no I don’t know how she is speaking my language. Now, go to bed.”
He woke some time later on the floor of her dirty apartment. He lifted his head, wincing in pain, and tried to remember where he was. It came to him after a few moments and he put his hand to his forehead, feeling the tacky dried blood there. The lamp had fallen and shattered when he’d smashed into it. He pulled his cell phone out, using the light from it to see where he was going and walked over to the opposite wall.
He held his cell phone up to the sticky notes and started reading them. ‘They want me to understand.’ ‘It hurts.’ And ‘They’re coming’ were written over and over again, along with ‘10:24’.
Trunks searched the apartment once more and, after finding nothing else, he left. He raced the sun home to West City and crawled into bed just in time to see the sun peek through his window.
She landed on cat like feet on the balcony outside her daughter’s bedroom and waited. After hearing Vegeta leave, she opened the French door quietly and entered the room. Her daughter laid facing away from her on the bed across the room. Android 18 glided over to the bed and lay down behind her daughter, holding her close.