Choice to be Different

Chapter 5:Fears and Choices

Bulma gave the closet door one last look then sighed and turned to go check on Vegeta-chan again when Vegeta suddenly stalked into the room and tore the door off the coat closet.

Goku tumbled out with a yelp. He quickly slapped his hands over his eyes.

Vegeta picked Goku up by the scruff of the neck. "I changed my mind Kakarrot. I think I'll teach you to control the Oozaru after all."

Bulma stepped into Vegeta's path. "Vegeta, do you really think it's a good idea to do this?" she asked.

Vegeta felt something twist inside him at the look in her eyes and the realization that his wife didn't trust him with a child anymore. He brushed past her without a word and took to the air. Vegeta flew out to the stark wasteland where he and Goku had first fought. "We're here brat, open your eyes," Vegeta ordered as he tossed Goku to the ground.

"But I'll-"

"How did you think you'd learn to control it?" Vegeta demanded. "Just realize a dumb beast won't be able to fight me. Then, when you get tired of being thrown around, wake-up."

"What you mean, 'wake-up'? I'm already awake." Goku asked. His eyes popped open as curiosity overwhelmed him. Vegeta was floating in mid-air, silhouetted against the harvest moon.

Goku froze. His eyes went wide and blank, a heart-beat too powerful for his present frame thudded in his ears.

Vegeta turned to stare at the moon as well. His tail and his ability to transform were long gone, but he remembered.
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Vegeta-chan crouched in the center of his room. His eyes were empty, his expression shuttered. Someday no one, no one would be able to make him afraid like that! Someday he'd be more powerful than anyone, but not today. He wanted to hurt someone, to destroy something. He wanted to remind everyone, most especially himself, of the power that he did possess. He wanted to make someone else more afraid and more hurt than he was. But he couldn't, not here, his older counterpart wouldn't allowed it. If he'd been on one of Frieza's bases he would have picked a fight with a group of lesser mercenaries and killed them or taken a mission and slaughtered the population of some random planet to get rid of the feeling of helplessness. Here he'd been warned against doing that. Here he wasn't allowed to lash out at anyone he could actually hurt.

He smashed his fist into the floor. The floor-boards shattered, the concrete foundation beneath them cracked. Pain lanced up his arm from his knuckles. Vegeta-chan drew back and hit the concrete again, harder. His fist sunk into the concrete. The jagged edges of the hole torn at his flesh as he pulled his arm out and hit it again. He wanted to hurt something so badly he could taste it, but he wasn't allowed. Some small part of the urge seemed to trickle out of him along with the blood that was just beginning to seep from the scratches in his arm.

Experimentally he forced his power down then hit the concrete again. He felt the bones in his hand crack. The pain radiating up his arm obscured the duller ache from his bruised throat. He hit the concrete again and again. Bones splintered in his hand and the fragments tore through his flesh. The sound of his fist impacting the broken concrete changed from sharp cracks to a wet sound as his flesh gave way. Everything faded away except the pain.

Then someone was screaming at him. Begging him to stop. Arms wrapped around him, futilely trying to restrain him. He could feel the weakness in the arms, he knew he could break their hold on him without even trying but he stopped. There was something so novel about being held that it shocked him out of the trance he'd been in. He let himself be pulled into a warm embraced.

The whispered promises that she would fix things were empty words. Vegeta had grown up knowing that his only escape, the only way to make things better was for him to become the strongest. Still he could sense that the intent behind the promises was sincere. If she'd had the ability she would have taken away all the hurt and anger and shame.