[fic] Mirrored Images
Title: Mirrored Images (part three)
Fandom: Dragon Ball Z (AU...ish. Also within main continuity post-Buu)
Character(s): ...a lot
Pairing(s): several
Word Count: ~20000
Rating: PG-13/R-ish
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Akira Toriyama does along with assorted others.
Warnings: none.
Author's Note: I finally finished this! Aw, yeah!
Summary: After a strange happenstance on his way home from school, Gohan finds himself in an alternate reality where he finds everyone he knows the same...but different.
--
Yamcha had long since decided that meeting his contact in a crowded, public area was the best way. Clandestine meetings were too suspicious. Going to fast food places during lunch hour and sitting in booths while devouring hamburgers? That was outwardly innocuous.
He saw him on line and waited for a few other people to get between them before he ordered his own food. Tray in hand, he spotted him sitting in a booth near a window.
The younger man was in casual clothes-an off-duty soldier. His dark hair was freshly washed and still wet, clinging darkly to his scalp and sticking to the back of his neck. His gaze was set into that of concern as he watched people mill about outside.
“Can I sit here?” Yamcha asked. “The other tables are full.”
He turned his head slightly and gave the briefest of nods. He took a seat and carefully unwrapped his burger. Once they were both eating, the man lifted his head.
“Hello, Yamcha.” The words were muffled by food but only slightly.
“Hey back, Broly,” he replied, smirking into his burger.
He wondered if the Saiyan army knew they had a mole. The others in the Resistance didn’t. It wasn’t to protect himself for associating with a Saiyan but to protect his contact-his friend. The more people who knew about his mole status, the more dangerous that status was. He didn’t want to endanger him.
Truth be told, he had been starting to gain feelings of the romantic persuasion about three weeks into their information-sharing. He had tried to suppress them. Romantic relationships in the Resistance didn’t work. Once upon a time, he and Bulma were together but they were young and stupid and it didn’t work. Later, he had tried with Tien and, again, it didn’t work. He and Broly would especially not work. Inter-species, inter-class, and-most importantly-his status as a spy would be revealed eventually. No. No relationships in what they did would work. He thought Krillin and Ebi were nuts for trying, even if they rarely got a moment to themselves.
He could understand why they wanted to send the new kid out to get information. He looked like a Saiyan-he was apparently half if what Bulma told him was true-and none of them knew about Broly.
“So what’s the good word?” He bit down into his burger and began to chew.
Broly grabbed a handful of fries and stuffed them into his mouth. It always astonished Yamcha how much Saiyans could eat. It was as if they were bottomless pits.
“Apparently a boarding house for working kids didn’t pay their taxes,” he said once he swallowed. “General Nappa is going there himself to ‘collect’ it.”
Yamcha sucked down a sip of soda and nodded for him to continue.
“You guys should hit the jailhouse. With Nappa gone, that means it’ll be mostly unguarded except for some low-level idiots-speaking of, nice job on Shugesh the other day-there’s a cache of weapons and some collected zenie they keep there. The king doesn’t know about it.”
At his quirked brow, Broly continued.
“Nappa does…a lot…that the king doesn’t know about.”
Satisfied with the information, he pushed his unfinished food towards the other man.
“Thanks, Broly. Really.”
Broly reached out and gently took his hand. Yamcha glanced around the crowded establishment, wondering if anyone noticed.
“Be careful out there, scars,” he murmured and gently brought his hand to his mouth before gingerly kissing his fingers.
A shiver made its way down his back and, before he could stop himself, Yamcha had leaned in and pressed his lips softly against Broly’s.
Maybe he wasn’t completely immune to wanting relationships.
--
Kakarrot was a simple man with simple needs. He liked eating, drinking, fighting, and occasionally sticking it in somewhere. He even liked combining them: incorporating fighting and tussling in sex or eating a sandwich mid-coitus. That last one seemed to piss the women off, though, and he wasn’t sure why.
His father was pretty well known in the Saiyan army, despite being low-class. It gave him and his older brother some degree of distinction to where they had actually had dinner at the palace a few times alongside Bardock. It was this notoriety that got Kakarrot put with General Nappa on a quick trip to a boarding house in order to collect back taxes. Raditz was with them and he kept grinning and flashing a thumbs-up at him. He understood why: being asked to accompany General Nappa was a huge honor. Even if the “mission” was just picking up some zenie, it was still exhilarating.
Feeling a bit like a little kid, Kakarrot walked a bit taller and puffed his chest out, trying to seem less puny next to Nappa. It was to no avail. Even his much larger brother seemed diminutive when put up to the massive general.
They neared the tall, narrow building that was the boarding house and Kakarrot attempted to exchange the happy grin on his face for a serious grimace but it didn’t seem to be working for him. Nappa lifted his hand and rapped twice on the door. The wood splintered under the impact of his knuckles.
“Wipe that smile off, Kakarrot,” Nappa growled. “And remember that I’m only letting you two low-class snots tag along as a favor to your father.”
That, at least, got his smile to fade but now he had to battle the urge to pout. The door opened to reveal a short human woman with graying brown hair pulled back from her face. Hungry-looking children with big eyes peered out from behind her.
“General Nappa!” Despite the exclamation, she didn’t seem surprised that they were there. “My husband appealed to the king-he gave us an extension.”
“His majesty is going soft,” Nappa replied gruffly. “We’ll need the zenie now.”
Both he and his brother whipped their heads to the side simultaneously to look at Nappa with matching, incredulous looks. Raditz opened his mouth to say something but promptly shut it, knowing better.
“What about the king?” Kakarrot asked, knowing he wasn’t nearly as smart. His father often told him that if his stomach didn’t get him in trouble, his mouth would.
“Shut up, Kakarrot.”
Following his brother’s example, he shut his mouth. Nappa turned back to the woman and held out a large hand.
“The money you owe,” he demanded.
“We…we don’t have it. The children need to eat so we used tax money on that.” She lowered her eyes. “We took in a bit too many but the children…we can’t say no.”
Nappa lowered his hand and brought it to his chin. “So, you can’t pay because you have too many mouths to feed?”
The woman glanced back up and nodded. “Yes.”
The general forcibly pushed her aside with one hand and held the other out in front of him. Energy gathered towards the center of his palm and he fired a blast into the house. Two of the four children who had come along with the owner of the house were no more.
Kakarrot’s eyes went wide and, before he could stop himself, he had slammed his fist into the side of Nappa’s head.
“Kakarrot!” Raditz yelled. “What are you-?”
The rest of his sentence was blocked out by Kakarrot firing a hand blast into Nappa’s side to get him to stop. Angry, the much larger man swung his arm out. It connected in Kakarrot’s midsection and he felt the wind get knocked out of him. He flew through the air in a spectacular arc and landed painfully on the sidewalk. He wasn’t aware of much else that was happening. He heard his brother telling Nappa to stop and the woman screaming about children.
It wasn’t until he was being hauled to his feet and being shackled did he realize that attacking a high-ranking general was probably a bad idea, even if he was murdering children.
“Nappa, stop!” Raditz was running towards them, waving his arms. “My little brother just acts without thinking!”
Behind him, the woman was holding the remaining children and sobbing. Kakarrot noticed that the entire second floor of the boarding house was now gone, undoubtedly Nappa’s doing.
“He attacked me,” Nappa growled. “That’s treachery as far as I’m concerned. Tell your daddy that he’s lucky we aren’t executing him right away.”
Kakarrot whipped his head up. Execution? He was going to die for this?
“He’ll get a trial, though, right?” Raditz was keeping pace with Nappa and the two other soldiers who had materialized from nowhere to haul him off. They must have arrived when he was still on the ground.
“He will,” Nappa allowed. “But it’ll probably end in execution anyway. We can’t have disloyal Saiyans in our ranks. You know that.”
“But-”
Raditz was cut off by Nappa placing his hand firmly on his chest and shoving him to the side.
Strangely, as he was being dragged away, all Kakarrot could think of was that girl who told him off at that restaurant in town. How he’d never get to taste her cooking again or get to know her better. He figured he had to still be kind of delirious from when he landed on the ground.
Gods, I’m going to die…
--
That cowardly, treacherous, cheating, lying bastard. Vegeta leaned against the stone wall of the jailhouse, awaiting Nappa’s return. While he did, he tried to think of more adjectives to describe that worm. That rat bastard was keeping money and weapons squirreled away in the prison under his father’s nose. To do what, he wondered?
Images from every royal intrigue play he’d read since coming to earth played in his head. Oh, he had a good idea what Nappa was going to use those things for.
Not that his own motives were entirely pure. He loved his father, yes, and he respected him as a ruler but his notions were antiquated. He still clung to the Divine Right of Kings way of thinking and absolute monarchy. That never worked. It wouldn’t work. He knew because he was seeing a member of the Resistance.
That had happened by accident, really. He knew she was a revolutionary when he saw her at that protest all those months ago. Even then, she intoxicated him. How she didn’t care about his strength or power when she chucked a bottle at his head. How her ideas and thoughts about a potential republic opened the prince’s mind in ways he couldn’t imagine. She was a technological genius and beautiful, too. When the time came, he wanted to work with her and the others to better both their races.
Vegeta growled under his breath. Eight months ago, he wouldn’t dream of reducing his status as prince to that of a figurehead or working alongside weak humans. What that woman-what Bulma had done to him. Sometimes, after their clandestine meetings in dark, dingy hotel rooms, he could still feel her. Could still smell her intoxicating smell on his skin and feel her silky blue hair in his hands.
He wasn’t sure if he was bothered more by the fact that she was making him romantic and compassionate or that the fact that she was making him romantic and compassionate didn’t honestly bother him that much.
The main door to the jailhouse opened and Vegeta eased himself off of the wall. While he knew he was growing more tolerant and compassionate in matters of the state, he also knew that tonight was probably going to end with him killing Nappa.
The treacherous scum stalked into the jailhouse with two low-level soldiers. Between them, they held a third man, much younger than they were. He recognized him: he was one of Bardock’s sons. They had dined at the palace once or twice.
“Your majesty.” Nappa stopped and widened his eyes in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
Instead of answering him and confronting him with whatever underhanded dealing he had been doing, Vegeta simply raised his eyebrows at the man. He noticed that the side of his face was already purpling with the promise of a bruise.
“I could ask you the same question,” he said finally. “What is Kakarrot doing here in handcuffs?”
“Treason,” Nappa replied. “Little snot attacked me for no reason.”
“You were killing children!” Kakarrot cried vehemently.
One of the soldiers holding him twisted his arm in a painful-looking manner, causing him to cry out.
“Interesting choice of word-treason. You would know all about that, wouldn’t you Nappa?”
It was at that point that the wall of the jailhouse blew up, ending whatever reply the general had.
--
Gohan wasn’t sure how Yamcha knew that the jailhouse was used to store weapons and zenie but he did and he said he had it on good authority as well. He hoped he was right.
Since his confession to Bulma, it had quickly spread through the rest of the Resistance (not that it took much, mind you) about his dual heritage. He suddenly became indispensable on missions, which included this one. Along with him was Bulma, Chi-Chi and Yamcha himself. Everyone else had stayed back. As the thief had assured them no one would be there except some low-level guards, it was projected to be a simple mission.
Gohan was a bit tentative about having Bulma go with them but a quick, pointed look from her had kept his mouth shut. How was he going to explain that he was worried about her baby without telling them everything?
They crouched low on the outside of the jail, watching general Nappa return through the door along with what appeared to be three other people. Gohan sensed a familiar ki amongst them but pushed it down. It couldn’t be.
“Great,” Chi-Chi hissed, leaning forward to hit Yamcha in the back of the head. “He came back early. What now?”
“Yeah,” Bulma whispered urgently. “What’s the plan?”
Yamcha screwed his face up and tightened his ponytail before speaking.
“I say we blow out a wall and leap in there, bullets blasting.”
Gohan blinked his eyes rapidly in utter bewilderment.
“That’s the plan?” He struggled to keep his voice down.
“That’s the plan.”
Chi-Chi sighed and rushed her fingers through her short hair.
“We’re all going to die.”
“Cheech, have I ever told you that what I’ve always admired about you is your sunny outlook?”
Bulma grabbed his arm and gave him a devastating glare to shut him up.
“Less banter, more smashing. Let’s just go.”
The three of them turned their attention to Gohan and he realized after a moment that the looks meant that they expected him to do the blasting. Sighing, he lifted his hand and fired a ki blast through the wall.
Immediately, they sprung into action, leaping through the rubble. Gohan had yet to move and was astonished at how quickly the three of them reacted. The air was suddenly abuzz with the sound of bullets. He realized he had been standing stupidly in the alleyway for too long and followed them into the jailhouse.
“Yamcha!” He heard Chi-Chi’s voice from somewhere in the cellblock. “Stop killing them!”
Gohan flew after them, going slowly to try and keep his ki as low as possible. He had no idea if anyone could sense him or if they had scouters but it was better safe than sorry. An open, empty cell caught his attention and he flew into it for a moment. Closing his eyes, he scanned for ki signatures in order to properly assess the situation-something his friends didn’t seem to be doing.
He could feels Yamcha’s, somewhere near the entry of the prison. Chi-Chi’s and Bulma’s were fainter but they were close to him. Within her, he noted, was the small but concentrated ki of her child. He spread beyond them and towards where they were headed. Nappa was there. Two guards with embarrassingly low ki. Vegeta. His eyes snapped open. What in the hell was Vegeta doing here?
Gohan closed his eyes again, trying to forget that for the moment and finish his scan. He sensed the ki of the prisoners-some surrounding him-and the guards Yamcha hadn’t killed. He also sensed, with no mistake, Kakarrot’s. It was weaker than his father’s back in his own world but he would know that signature anywhere. The question was, though, what was he doing in the jailhouse?
“No matter,” he mumbled to himself.
He propelled himself forward again, moving to catch up with the others. They were nearly at the front now. He saw a wall separating him from the action and, without a thought, blew it up.
Bits of stone flew into the main entryway of the prison where the real action was. Gohan was honestly surprised that no prisoners were taking advantage of the bedlam to escape. Then again, fear of what would happen when they were inevitably caught again probably kept them in line.
“Goddamnit!”
Gohan turned his head to see a very irate Yamcha holding what appeared to be a grenade.
“Goddamnit?” Chi-Chi paused from kicking a guard in a stomach momentarily to give their companion an odd look.
“I totally had a line for this,” he complained. “But I lost it.”
“Enough banter!” Bulma shouted again. “Throw the damn thing!”
“I need a one-liner! You don’t understand!”
“Throw it!” Chi-Chi and Bulma shouted in unison.
Nappa stared at them in disbelief.
“They’re children,” he said, dumbfounded. “The Resistance is children. And they’re all idiots.”
“Fine!” he snapped and flung the grenade at a cluster of remaining guards. “Eat grenade…stupids!”
Despite the sheer terribleness of that line, the grenade itself was successful and the guards were no more. It didn’t do more damage than that leading Gohan to figure that it was another one of Bulma’s inventions and not your regular, garden variety grenade.
“I’d say ‘stop killing them’ again but you clearly are just going to keep killing them so…”
“Banter. Stop it.”
The blast from the grenade seemed to shatter whatever stupor Nappa was in and he sprung. He caught Bulma by the arm and threw her into the wall. She hit it hard and slumped to the ground, unmoving. Gohan realized that, throughout all of this, Vegeta hadn’t moved. He had stood watching the fight with his arms folded over his chest. He hadn’t been in the room to see his reaction when his secret, forbidden girlfriend had appeared but, knowing the prince (at least, knowing his Vegeta) he had probably masked it well. The moment Bulma flew into the wall, though, he snapped.
Letting out an ungodly wail, he flew headlong at the massive general and rammed his fists right into his stomach.
“What?” Yamcha asked flatly, lowering his gun.
Chi-Chi looked on in confusion as well. Just as well. Outside of Nappa, Vegeta, and Kakarrot, everyone else was down.
“You worm!” Vegeta snarled. “I was going to kill you for being traitorous scum! If there is a scratch on her, I will kill you twice!”
He grabbed the much larger general by his beefy arm and spun him around twice before flinging him into one of the few walls still standing. Nappa didn’t move once he landed but Gohan could still sense his ki. Vegeta hadn’t entirely killed him. And what about him being traitorous? He shook his head. Had to concentrate on the now.
“What the fuck is going on?” Yamcha demanded.
No one answered him. Vegeta flew over to where Bulma lay and gingerly lifted her up into his arms. She stirred and opened her eyes, shaking her head and then grasping it in pain.
“Are you alright?” he murmured in a nearly inaudible voice.
She nodded. “Don’t worry about me-I’m not. I’m just worried about…the baby.”
At that, he gently put her back on the ground and turned to Nappa’s unconscious form.
“If you’ve somehow hurt my child,” he seethed in a low voice that dripped with rage, “I will find a way to resurrect you and kill you again.”
“His what?” Chi-Chi cried incredulously.
The air grew hot as Vegeta summoned energy into his palm and brought both of his hands together before firing straight at Nappa, incinerating his body.
“So…” Yamcha said. “Is he on our side? Can he be on our side? I’ll refrain from wetting my pants if he’s on our side.”
“He killed Chaotzu,” Chi-Chi reminded him. “And…Bulma’s…pregnant with his kid.”
Gohan pretended to look shocked but he was never a very good actor. Vegeta floated back over to where Bulma lay and picked her up.
“Idiots,” he growled. “I’m on no one’s side but mine and hers.”
“Her side is our side,” Gohan pointed out, stepping forward and feeling a bit foolish. “What do you say, your majesty? Come with us? At least until we know Bulma and the baby are safe.”
“Watch how you speak to your prince.” His expression changed and even softened for a moment when he looked at Bulma in his arms. “But…fine. For now. Until I know they are both alright.”
Gohan turned to the young man sitting in a pile of rubble, blinking his dark eyes as if he was unsure about what happened.
“What about you, Kakarrot?”
“How do you know my-?”
Chi-Chi stomped forward, holding her gun in both hands. “He can’t come with us! He’s one of them!”
“Not really,” Kakarrot put in, rising to his feet. “Not anymore. I was declared a traitor. I was probably going to be executed in a few days.”
Yamcha stepped forward and lifted a brow. Like Chi-Chi, he held his gun in front of him.
“For what?”
“Attacking General Nappa-he was killing children.”
Gohan felt something warm spread in his chest. Hope-was it hope? Yes. That thing with feathers as a dead writer once said. He was still, at his core, a decent person.
“Then come with us,” he offered. “What’s the alternative? Waiting here to die?”
Kakarrot lifted his chin defiantly. “A Saiyan doesn’t fear death.”
Chi-Chi rolled her eyes and grabbed his arm.
“Take that ‘pride’ bullshit and shove it. Either come with us or get your head chopped off, you idiot!”
He looked at her and a smile spread on his face.
“Hey! You’re that chef from that restaurant! I didn’t know you were a rebel!”
“Focus!” Vegeta roared.
It was decided, in the end, that Kakarrot would accompany them. Gohan wasn’t worried about him coming along. Not at all. Even an escaped prisoner was no bother if they were a commoner-low-class. He was more worried about the fact that the crown prince was traveling with them as well. He regretted asking him along, having momentarily forgotten that the “prince” in “Prince Vegeta” was more than just a bygone, forgotten title of a dead race.
“So…how long have you and Bulma…” Yamcha tried.
“Shut up.”
Gohan sighed. Yes, he was really regretting asking him along.
--
The others were understandably pissed when they came back to the bar with reports of Nappa’s death and two arrivals. It angered the further that the trip was all for nothing seeing as they didn’t get the zenie or weapons-both of which were probably destroyed in the attack on the jailhouse.
“You brought those monsters back?!” Shime cried in disbelief.
“Hey!” Kakarrot interjected. “I am not a monster!”
Tien was glaring daggers at Vegeta. “He is. He killed Chaotzu.”
“Why is he holding Bulma?” Krillin asked suddenly, probably speaking up to avoid a confrontation. “Is she alright?”
Vegeta pushed past them and put Bulma down on a cot. She had lapsed back into unconsciousness shortly before they left.
“No, she is not. Both she and my child could be seriously hurt. So stop whining about our presence and do something.”
The others stared in shock, save for Piccolo who was meditating silently in the corner.
“Your…child?” Ebi asked, bewildered.
“Yes.” Vegeta turned around and folded his arms over his chest. “Now find a way to get her medical attention or I will-”
Chi-Chi stepped forward and the sudden movement made whatever threat the prince was about to utter die in his throat.
“We have someone who can take care of her,” she said. “Don’t worry.”
“Good because if anything happens to her, I will do to all of you what I did to Nappa.”
Tien cocked a brow. “Is Nappa dead?”
Yamcha nodded.
“Yeah, and I didn’t kill him so you can’t be mad at me.”
Kakarrot stepped forward and rubbed the back of his neck, smiling a little.
“But he killed a buncha other people so…”
He clearly thought he was helping, Gohan realized. Because he was raised as a Saiyan where killing your enemies was not only applauded but encouraged. He dimmed when the other man gave him a dirty look. Tien sighed and threw his hands up. He left the main room and disappeared into the back, grumbling about not knowing what to do with “scar-faced idiots.”
“Scar-faced idiots you used to fuck!” he called after him in a taunting voice.
Gohan felt his face heat up. They used…to date? No matter how long he spent with the Resistance, he still found himself learning new things about them each day. And, if he was being honest, he still wasn’t used to sex being mentioned so overtly and crudely.
Those remaining stared at the newcomers, probably realizing the issue having them present would cause.
“So, let me get this straight,” Shime said, folding his arms across his chest. “We have with us not only an escaped convict but also the prince of the Saiyan royal family staying with us. In our hidden bunker where we plot a revolution.”
“That’s about the size of it, yes,” Yamcha replied.
With speed that would make his counterpart in Gohan’s world proud, Shime smacked the other man in the head.
“You. Are. All. Idiots.” He punctuated each word with another smack.
“OW!” Yamcha complained. “It wasn’t my idea-Gohan asked Kakarrot to come!”
All eyes turned on him and Gohan gulped nervously. How was he going to explain that he only asked Kakarrot because he was his father? Especially when, here, Kakarrot was only a couple of years older than him? He could tell them the truth as to why he asked him along. Explain his situation slightly. The dimension-hopping at least.
“Well…uh…he was declared a traitor and I felt bad for him?” he tried.
Their gazes didn’t waver. Gohan sighed. He was a bad liar and, besides, it was high time for the truth.
“I invited him along because…well…I’m not from here,” he said. At their confused stares, Gohan realized that didn’t explain anything and seemed like a disjointed, unrelated statement. “Okay…I’m from another universe. I’m not sure how I got here but where I’m from is really different.”
Chi-Chi was the first to reply.
“You’re…from another universe?”
He nodded. “Yes. And…there are versions of all of you in that universe. And the G-the Kakarrot in that universe is the greatest hero the earth has ever seen.”
Kakarrot blinked his eyes in confusion.
“I…I am?”
“Yes. The best. Even if here…even if you’re ‘just’ a Saiyan soldier here…I saw you in the prison and was reminded of the one in my universe and asked you along.”
There was a long pause after his words. Gohan smiled awkwardly, suddenly wishing he had just kept his mouth shut. Yamcha spoke next.
“What about the me in your universe?”
That seemed to break the tension and, soon, the others were all asking about their counterparts. Gohan answered the questions as modestly as possibly, trying not to give too much away.
“And me?” Chi-Chi asked.
He cringed. What to say?
“You’re…a wonderful mother,” he said finally, figuring that was the safest best. “Who loves her children very much.”
She snorted in laughter. “Me? A mom?”
Behind them, Vegeta agitatedly cleared his throat. He was glowering at them, his arms folded tightly over his chest.
“I am going to say this one more time before I start killing you all,” he growled. “Get Bulma medical attention. Now.”
Fandom: Dragon Ball Z (AU...ish. Also within main continuity post-Buu)
Character(s): ...a lot
Pairing(s): several
Word Count: ~20000
Rating: PG-13/R-ish
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Akira Toriyama does along with assorted others.
Warnings: none.
Author's Note: I finally finished this! Aw, yeah!
Summary: After a strange happenstance on his way home from school, Gohan finds himself in an alternate reality where he finds everyone he knows the same...but different.
--
Yamcha had long since decided that meeting his contact in a crowded, public area was the best way. Clandestine meetings were too suspicious. Going to fast food places during lunch hour and sitting in booths while devouring hamburgers? That was outwardly innocuous.
He saw him on line and waited for a few other people to get between them before he ordered his own food. Tray in hand, he spotted him sitting in a booth near a window.
The younger man was in casual clothes-an off-duty soldier. His dark hair was freshly washed and still wet, clinging darkly to his scalp and sticking to the back of his neck. His gaze was set into that of concern as he watched people mill about outside.
“Can I sit here?” Yamcha asked. “The other tables are full.”
He turned his head slightly and gave the briefest of nods. He took a seat and carefully unwrapped his burger. Once they were both eating, the man lifted his head.
“Hello, Yamcha.” The words were muffled by food but only slightly.
“Hey back, Broly,” he replied, smirking into his burger.
He wondered if the Saiyan army knew they had a mole. The others in the Resistance didn’t. It wasn’t to protect himself for associating with a Saiyan but to protect his contact-his friend. The more people who knew about his mole status, the more dangerous that status was. He didn’t want to endanger him.
Truth be told, he had been starting to gain feelings of the romantic persuasion about three weeks into their information-sharing. He had tried to suppress them. Romantic relationships in the Resistance didn’t work. Once upon a time, he and Bulma were together but they were young and stupid and it didn’t work. Later, he had tried with Tien and, again, it didn’t work. He and Broly would especially not work. Inter-species, inter-class, and-most importantly-his status as a spy would be revealed eventually. No. No relationships in what they did would work. He thought Krillin and Ebi were nuts for trying, even if they rarely got a moment to themselves.
He could understand why they wanted to send the new kid out to get information. He looked like a Saiyan-he was apparently half if what Bulma told him was true-and none of them knew about Broly.
“So what’s the good word?” He bit down into his burger and began to chew.
Broly grabbed a handful of fries and stuffed them into his mouth. It always astonished Yamcha how much Saiyans could eat. It was as if they were bottomless pits.
“Apparently a boarding house for working kids didn’t pay their taxes,” he said once he swallowed. “General Nappa is going there himself to ‘collect’ it.”
Yamcha sucked down a sip of soda and nodded for him to continue.
“You guys should hit the jailhouse. With Nappa gone, that means it’ll be mostly unguarded except for some low-level idiots-speaking of, nice job on Shugesh the other day-there’s a cache of weapons and some collected zenie they keep there. The king doesn’t know about it.”
At his quirked brow, Broly continued.
“Nappa does…a lot…that the king doesn’t know about.”
Satisfied with the information, he pushed his unfinished food towards the other man.
“Thanks, Broly. Really.”
Broly reached out and gently took his hand. Yamcha glanced around the crowded establishment, wondering if anyone noticed.
“Be careful out there, scars,” he murmured and gently brought his hand to his mouth before gingerly kissing his fingers.
A shiver made its way down his back and, before he could stop himself, Yamcha had leaned in and pressed his lips softly against Broly’s.
Maybe he wasn’t completely immune to wanting relationships.
--
Kakarrot was a simple man with simple needs. He liked eating, drinking, fighting, and occasionally sticking it in somewhere. He even liked combining them: incorporating fighting and tussling in sex or eating a sandwich mid-coitus. That last one seemed to piss the women off, though, and he wasn’t sure why.
His father was pretty well known in the Saiyan army, despite being low-class. It gave him and his older brother some degree of distinction to where they had actually had dinner at the palace a few times alongside Bardock. It was this notoriety that got Kakarrot put with General Nappa on a quick trip to a boarding house in order to collect back taxes. Raditz was with them and he kept grinning and flashing a thumbs-up at him. He understood why: being asked to accompany General Nappa was a huge honor. Even if the “mission” was just picking up some zenie, it was still exhilarating.
Feeling a bit like a little kid, Kakarrot walked a bit taller and puffed his chest out, trying to seem less puny next to Nappa. It was to no avail. Even his much larger brother seemed diminutive when put up to the massive general.
They neared the tall, narrow building that was the boarding house and Kakarrot attempted to exchange the happy grin on his face for a serious grimace but it didn’t seem to be working for him. Nappa lifted his hand and rapped twice on the door. The wood splintered under the impact of his knuckles.
“Wipe that smile off, Kakarrot,” Nappa growled. “And remember that I’m only letting you two low-class snots tag along as a favor to your father.”
That, at least, got his smile to fade but now he had to battle the urge to pout. The door opened to reveal a short human woman with graying brown hair pulled back from her face. Hungry-looking children with big eyes peered out from behind her.
“General Nappa!” Despite the exclamation, she didn’t seem surprised that they were there. “My husband appealed to the king-he gave us an extension.”
“His majesty is going soft,” Nappa replied gruffly. “We’ll need the zenie now.”
Both he and his brother whipped their heads to the side simultaneously to look at Nappa with matching, incredulous looks. Raditz opened his mouth to say something but promptly shut it, knowing better.
“What about the king?” Kakarrot asked, knowing he wasn’t nearly as smart. His father often told him that if his stomach didn’t get him in trouble, his mouth would.
“Shut up, Kakarrot.”
Following his brother’s example, he shut his mouth. Nappa turned back to the woman and held out a large hand.
“The money you owe,” he demanded.
“We…we don’t have it. The children need to eat so we used tax money on that.” She lowered her eyes. “We took in a bit too many but the children…we can’t say no.”
Nappa lowered his hand and brought it to his chin. “So, you can’t pay because you have too many mouths to feed?”
The woman glanced back up and nodded. “Yes.”
The general forcibly pushed her aside with one hand and held the other out in front of him. Energy gathered towards the center of his palm and he fired a blast into the house. Two of the four children who had come along with the owner of the house were no more.
Kakarrot’s eyes went wide and, before he could stop himself, he had slammed his fist into the side of Nappa’s head.
“Kakarrot!” Raditz yelled. “What are you-?”
The rest of his sentence was blocked out by Kakarrot firing a hand blast into Nappa’s side to get him to stop. Angry, the much larger man swung his arm out. It connected in Kakarrot’s midsection and he felt the wind get knocked out of him. He flew through the air in a spectacular arc and landed painfully on the sidewalk. He wasn’t aware of much else that was happening. He heard his brother telling Nappa to stop and the woman screaming about children.
It wasn’t until he was being hauled to his feet and being shackled did he realize that attacking a high-ranking general was probably a bad idea, even if he was murdering children.
“Nappa, stop!” Raditz was running towards them, waving his arms. “My little brother just acts without thinking!”
Behind him, the woman was holding the remaining children and sobbing. Kakarrot noticed that the entire second floor of the boarding house was now gone, undoubtedly Nappa’s doing.
“He attacked me,” Nappa growled. “That’s treachery as far as I’m concerned. Tell your daddy that he’s lucky we aren’t executing him right away.”
Kakarrot whipped his head up. Execution? He was going to die for this?
“He’ll get a trial, though, right?” Raditz was keeping pace with Nappa and the two other soldiers who had materialized from nowhere to haul him off. They must have arrived when he was still on the ground.
“He will,” Nappa allowed. “But it’ll probably end in execution anyway. We can’t have disloyal Saiyans in our ranks. You know that.”
“But-”
Raditz was cut off by Nappa placing his hand firmly on his chest and shoving him to the side.
Strangely, as he was being dragged away, all Kakarrot could think of was that girl who told him off at that restaurant in town. How he’d never get to taste her cooking again or get to know her better. He figured he had to still be kind of delirious from when he landed on the ground.
Gods, I’m going to die…
--
That cowardly, treacherous, cheating, lying bastard. Vegeta leaned against the stone wall of the jailhouse, awaiting Nappa’s return. While he did, he tried to think of more adjectives to describe that worm. That rat bastard was keeping money and weapons squirreled away in the prison under his father’s nose. To do what, he wondered?
Images from every royal intrigue play he’d read since coming to earth played in his head. Oh, he had a good idea what Nappa was going to use those things for.
Not that his own motives were entirely pure. He loved his father, yes, and he respected him as a ruler but his notions were antiquated. He still clung to the Divine Right of Kings way of thinking and absolute monarchy. That never worked. It wouldn’t work. He knew because he was seeing a member of the Resistance.
That had happened by accident, really. He knew she was a revolutionary when he saw her at that protest all those months ago. Even then, she intoxicated him. How she didn’t care about his strength or power when she chucked a bottle at his head. How her ideas and thoughts about a potential republic opened the prince’s mind in ways he couldn’t imagine. She was a technological genius and beautiful, too. When the time came, he wanted to work with her and the others to better both their races.
Vegeta growled under his breath. Eight months ago, he wouldn’t dream of reducing his status as prince to that of a figurehead or working alongside weak humans. What that woman-what Bulma had done to him. Sometimes, after their clandestine meetings in dark, dingy hotel rooms, he could still feel her. Could still smell her intoxicating smell on his skin and feel her silky blue hair in his hands.
He wasn’t sure if he was bothered more by the fact that she was making him romantic and compassionate or that the fact that she was making him romantic and compassionate didn’t honestly bother him that much.
The main door to the jailhouse opened and Vegeta eased himself off of the wall. While he knew he was growing more tolerant and compassionate in matters of the state, he also knew that tonight was probably going to end with him killing Nappa.
The treacherous scum stalked into the jailhouse with two low-level soldiers. Between them, they held a third man, much younger than they were. He recognized him: he was one of Bardock’s sons. They had dined at the palace once or twice.
“Your majesty.” Nappa stopped and widened his eyes in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
Instead of answering him and confronting him with whatever underhanded dealing he had been doing, Vegeta simply raised his eyebrows at the man. He noticed that the side of his face was already purpling with the promise of a bruise.
“I could ask you the same question,” he said finally. “What is Kakarrot doing here in handcuffs?”
“Treason,” Nappa replied. “Little snot attacked me for no reason.”
“You were killing children!” Kakarrot cried vehemently.
One of the soldiers holding him twisted his arm in a painful-looking manner, causing him to cry out.
“Interesting choice of word-treason. You would know all about that, wouldn’t you Nappa?”
It was at that point that the wall of the jailhouse blew up, ending whatever reply the general had.
--
Gohan wasn’t sure how Yamcha knew that the jailhouse was used to store weapons and zenie but he did and he said he had it on good authority as well. He hoped he was right.
Since his confession to Bulma, it had quickly spread through the rest of the Resistance (not that it took much, mind you) about his dual heritage. He suddenly became indispensable on missions, which included this one. Along with him was Bulma, Chi-Chi and Yamcha himself. Everyone else had stayed back. As the thief had assured them no one would be there except some low-level guards, it was projected to be a simple mission.
Gohan was a bit tentative about having Bulma go with them but a quick, pointed look from her had kept his mouth shut. How was he going to explain that he was worried about her baby without telling them everything?
They crouched low on the outside of the jail, watching general Nappa return through the door along with what appeared to be three other people. Gohan sensed a familiar ki amongst them but pushed it down. It couldn’t be.
“Great,” Chi-Chi hissed, leaning forward to hit Yamcha in the back of the head. “He came back early. What now?”
“Yeah,” Bulma whispered urgently. “What’s the plan?”
Yamcha screwed his face up and tightened his ponytail before speaking.
“I say we blow out a wall and leap in there, bullets blasting.”
Gohan blinked his eyes rapidly in utter bewilderment.
“That’s the plan?” He struggled to keep his voice down.
“That’s the plan.”
Chi-Chi sighed and rushed her fingers through her short hair.
“We’re all going to die.”
“Cheech, have I ever told you that what I’ve always admired about you is your sunny outlook?”
Bulma grabbed his arm and gave him a devastating glare to shut him up.
“Less banter, more smashing. Let’s just go.”
The three of them turned their attention to Gohan and he realized after a moment that the looks meant that they expected him to do the blasting. Sighing, he lifted his hand and fired a ki blast through the wall.
Immediately, they sprung into action, leaping through the rubble. Gohan had yet to move and was astonished at how quickly the three of them reacted. The air was suddenly abuzz with the sound of bullets. He realized he had been standing stupidly in the alleyway for too long and followed them into the jailhouse.
“Yamcha!” He heard Chi-Chi’s voice from somewhere in the cellblock. “Stop killing them!”
Gohan flew after them, going slowly to try and keep his ki as low as possible. He had no idea if anyone could sense him or if they had scouters but it was better safe than sorry. An open, empty cell caught his attention and he flew into it for a moment. Closing his eyes, he scanned for ki signatures in order to properly assess the situation-something his friends didn’t seem to be doing.
He could feels Yamcha’s, somewhere near the entry of the prison. Chi-Chi’s and Bulma’s were fainter but they were close to him. Within her, he noted, was the small but concentrated ki of her child. He spread beyond them and towards where they were headed. Nappa was there. Two guards with embarrassingly low ki. Vegeta. His eyes snapped open. What in the hell was Vegeta doing here?
Gohan closed his eyes again, trying to forget that for the moment and finish his scan. He sensed the ki of the prisoners-some surrounding him-and the guards Yamcha hadn’t killed. He also sensed, with no mistake, Kakarrot’s. It was weaker than his father’s back in his own world but he would know that signature anywhere. The question was, though, what was he doing in the jailhouse?
“No matter,” he mumbled to himself.
He propelled himself forward again, moving to catch up with the others. They were nearly at the front now. He saw a wall separating him from the action and, without a thought, blew it up.
Bits of stone flew into the main entryway of the prison where the real action was. Gohan was honestly surprised that no prisoners were taking advantage of the bedlam to escape. Then again, fear of what would happen when they were inevitably caught again probably kept them in line.
“Goddamnit!”
Gohan turned his head to see a very irate Yamcha holding what appeared to be a grenade.
“Goddamnit?” Chi-Chi paused from kicking a guard in a stomach momentarily to give their companion an odd look.
“I totally had a line for this,” he complained. “But I lost it.”
“Enough banter!” Bulma shouted again. “Throw the damn thing!”
“I need a one-liner! You don’t understand!”
“Throw it!” Chi-Chi and Bulma shouted in unison.
Nappa stared at them in disbelief.
“They’re children,” he said, dumbfounded. “The Resistance is children. And they’re all idiots.”
“Fine!” he snapped and flung the grenade at a cluster of remaining guards. “Eat grenade…stupids!”
Despite the sheer terribleness of that line, the grenade itself was successful and the guards were no more. It didn’t do more damage than that leading Gohan to figure that it was another one of Bulma’s inventions and not your regular, garden variety grenade.
“I’d say ‘stop killing them’ again but you clearly are just going to keep killing them so…”
“Banter. Stop it.”
The blast from the grenade seemed to shatter whatever stupor Nappa was in and he sprung. He caught Bulma by the arm and threw her into the wall. She hit it hard and slumped to the ground, unmoving. Gohan realized that, throughout all of this, Vegeta hadn’t moved. He had stood watching the fight with his arms folded over his chest. He hadn’t been in the room to see his reaction when his secret, forbidden girlfriend had appeared but, knowing the prince (at least, knowing his Vegeta) he had probably masked it well. The moment Bulma flew into the wall, though, he snapped.
Letting out an ungodly wail, he flew headlong at the massive general and rammed his fists right into his stomach.
“What?” Yamcha asked flatly, lowering his gun.
Chi-Chi looked on in confusion as well. Just as well. Outside of Nappa, Vegeta, and Kakarrot, everyone else was down.
“You worm!” Vegeta snarled. “I was going to kill you for being traitorous scum! If there is a scratch on her, I will kill you twice!”
He grabbed the much larger general by his beefy arm and spun him around twice before flinging him into one of the few walls still standing. Nappa didn’t move once he landed but Gohan could still sense his ki. Vegeta hadn’t entirely killed him. And what about him being traitorous? He shook his head. Had to concentrate on the now.
“What the fuck is going on?” Yamcha demanded.
No one answered him. Vegeta flew over to where Bulma lay and gingerly lifted her up into his arms. She stirred and opened her eyes, shaking her head and then grasping it in pain.
“Are you alright?” he murmured in a nearly inaudible voice.
She nodded. “Don’t worry about me-I’m not. I’m just worried about…the baby.”
At that, he gently put her back on the ground and turned to Nappa’s unconscious form.
“If you’ve somehow hurt my child,” he seethed in a low voice that dripped with rage, “I will find a way to resurrect you and kill you again.”
“His what?” Chi-Chi cried incredulously.
The air grew hot as Vegeta summoned energy into his palm and brought both of his hands together before firing straight at Nappa, incinerating his body.
“So…” Yamcha said. “Is he on our side? Can he be on our side? I’ll refrain from wetting my pants if he’s on our side.”
“He killed Chaotzu,” Chi-Chi reminded him. “And…Bulma’s…pregnant with his kid.”
Gohan pretended to look shocked but he was never a very good actor. Vegeta floated back over to where Bulma lay and picked her up.
“Idiots,” he growled. “I’m on no one’s side but mine and hers.”
“Her side is our side,” Gohan pointed out, stepping forward and feeling a bit foolish. “What do you say, your majesty? Come with us? At least until we know Bulma and the baby are safe.”
“Watch how you speak to your prince.” His expression changed and even softened for a moment when he looked at Bulma in his arms. “But…fine. For now. Until I know they are both alright.”
Gohan turned to the young man sitting in a pile of rubble, blinking his dark eyes as if he was unsure about what happened.
“What about you, Kakarrot?”
“How do you know my-?”
Chi-Chi stomped forward, holding her gun in both hands. “He can’t come with us! He’s one of them!”
“Not really,” Kakarrot put in, rising to his feet. “Not anymore. I was declared a traitor. I was probably going to be executed in a few days.”
Yamcha stepped forward and lifted a brow. Like Chi-Chi, he held his gun in front of him.
“For what?”
“Attacking General Nappa-he was killing children.”
Gohan felt something warm spread in his chest. Hope-was it hope? Yes. That thing with feathers as a dead writer once said. He was still, at his core, a decent person.
“Then come with us,” he offered. “What’s the alternative? Waiting here to die?”
Kakarrot lifted his chin defiantly. “A Saiyan doesn’t fear death.”
Chi-Chi rolled her eyes and grabbed his arm.
“Take that ‘pride’ bullshit and shove it. Either come with us or get your head chopped off, you idiot!”
He looked at her and a smile spread on his face.
“Hey! You’re that chef from that restaurant! I didn’t know you were a rebel!”
“Focus!” Vegeta roared.
It was decided, in the end, that Kakarrot would accompany them. Gohan wasn’t worried about him coming along. Not at all. Even an escaped prisoner was no bother if they were a commoner-low-class. He was more worried about the fact that the crown prince was traveling with them as well. He regretted asking him along, having momentarily forgotten that the “prince” in “Prince Vegeta” was more than just a bygone, forgotten title of a dead race.
“So…how long have you and Bulma…” Yamcha tried.
“Shut up.”
Gohan sighed. Yes, he was really regretting asking him along.
--
The others were understandably pissed when they came back to the bar with reports of Nappa’s death and two arrivals. It angered the further that the trip was all for nothing seeing as they didn’t get the zenie or weapons-both of which were probably destroyed in the attack on the jailhouse.
“You brought those monsters back?!” Shime cried in disbelief.
“Hey!” Kakarrot interjected. “I am not a monster!”
Tien was glaring daggers at Vegeta. “He is. He killed Chaotzu.”
“Why is he holding Bulma?” Krillin asked suddenly, probably speaking up to avoid a confrontation. “Is she alright?”
Vegeta pushed past them and put Bulma down on a cot. She had lapsed back into unconsciousness shortly before they left.
“No, she is not. Both she and my child could be seriously hurt. So stop whining about our presence and do something.”
The others stared in shock, save for Piccolo who was meditating silently in the corner.
“Your…child?” Ebi asked, bewildered.
“Yes.” Vegeta turned around and folded his arms over his chest. “Now find a way to get her medical attention or I will-”
Chi-Chi stepped forward and the sudden movement made whatever threat the prince was about to utter die in his throat.
“We have someone who can take care of her,” she said. “Don’t worry.”
“Good because if anything happens to her, I will do to all of you what I did to Nappa.”
Tien cocked a brow. “Is Nappa dead?”
Yamcha nodded.
“Yeah, and I didn’t kill him so you can’t be mad at me.”
Kakarrot stepped forward and rubbed the back of his neck, smiling a little.
“But he killed a buncha other people so…”
He clearly thought he was helping, Gohan realized. Because he was raised as a Saiyan where killing your enemies was not only applauded but encouraged. He dimmed when the other man gave him a dirty look. Tien sighed and threw his hands up. He left the main room and disappeared into the back, grumbling about not knowing what to do with “scar-faced idiots.”
“Scar-faced idiots you used to fuck!” he called after him in a taunting voice.
Gohan felt his face heat up. They used…to date? No matter how long he spent with the Resistance, he still found himself learning new things about them each day. And, if he was being honest, he still wasn’t used to sex being mentioned so overtly and crudely.
Those remaining stared at the newcomers, probably realizing the issue having them present would cause.
“So, let me get this straight,” Shime said, folding his arms across his chest. “We have with us not only an escaped convict but also the prince of the Saiyan royal family staying with us. In our hidden bunker where we plot a revolution.”
“That’s about the size of it, yes,” Yamcha replied.
With speed that would make his counterpart in Gohan’s world proud, Shime smacked the other man in the head.
“You. Are. All. Idiots.” He punctuated each word with another smack.
“OW!” Yamcha complained. “It wasn’t my idea-Gohan asked Kakarrot to come!”
All eyes turned on him and Gohan gulped nervously. How was he going to explain that he only asked Kakarrot because he was his father? Especially when, here, Kakarrot was only a couple of years older than him? He could tell them the truth as to why he asked him along. Explain his situation slightly. The dimension-hopping at least.
“Well…uh…he was declared a traitor and I felt bad for him?” he tried.
Their gazes didn’t waver. Gohan sighed. He was a bad liar and, besides, it was high time for the truth.
“I invited him along because…well…I’m not from here,” he said. At their confused stares, Gohan realized that didn’t explain anything and seemed like a disjointed, unrelated statement. “Okay…I’m from another universe. I’m not sure how I got here but where I’m from is really different.”
Chi-Chi was the first to reply.
“You’re…from another universe?”
He nodded. “Yes. And…there are versions of all of you in that universe. And the G-the Kakarrot in that universe is the greatest hero the earth has ever seen.”
Kakarrot blinked his eyes in confusion.
“I…I am?”
“Yes. The best. Even if here…even if you’re ‘just’ a Saiyan soldier here…I saw you in the prison and was reminded of the one in my universe and asked you along.”
There was a long pause after his words. Gohan smiled awkwardly, suddenly wishing he had just kept his mouth shut. Yamcha spoke next.
“What about the me in your universe?”
That seemed to break the tension and, soon, the others were all asking about their counterparts. Gohan answered the questions as modestly as possibly, trying not to give too much away.
“And me?” Chi-Chi asked.
He cringed. What to say?
“You’re…a wonderful mother,” he said finally, figuring that was the safest best. “Who loves her children very much.”
She snorted in laughter. “Me? A mom?”
Behind them, Vegeta agitatedly cleared his throat. He was glowering at them, his arms folded tightly over his chest.
“I am going to say this one more time before I start killing you all,” he growled. “Get Bulma medical attention. Now.”