Waiting
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Vegeta/Goku
POV: Goku
Summary: Goku reflects after Vegeta dies from a disease.
Warnings: Reference towards yaoi, sappiness
Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ, so don't sue me.
Author's Note: In this story, Goku and Vegeta were divorced from their wives and were in a relationship together. I hope that this isn't too sappy. I know the people around here favor the more darker, angsty stories (so it seems), but I do not write well when it comes to those, so I tried this. Also I apologize for killing Vegeta off with a disease. I just wanted Vegeta to actually die of something that might come around naturally in him, not being killed in battle or something like that. -_- I believe that some of you may get angry at me for that. *hides behind desk* I suppose that this is an A/U one-shot, because in the series Goku and Vegeta were never together. *blinks* Okay, one more thing! For the people I have reviewed, I'm sorry if I gave you crappy, short reviews. I really did like your stories a lot. Please forgive me for my inability to review well. -_-;;
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What a soft sorrow life is. It is so easy to love the one thing that we care for the most. Everything can disappear in a flash. Everything can wither and dide in an instant. It is like the plant that blooms at night; once the sun awakens, the plant dies. How pitiying one can be towards others, when it is he who deserves the pity the most. Life is so dramatic about trivial incidents. When the most important events occur, they are thrown to the side, discarded. One does not appreciate how dear life can be. But then, sometimes, it is so worthless, to someone else, or toms higher entity, that it can be destroyed with ease.
Sleep, my love, sleep in your shallow grave. On the anniversary of your death, I shall visit you, place some flowers on your tombstone. I will not weep for you, because your death is not worth crying over. It was such a quick death, that my sobs would be heartless. Still, you deserve at least a quiet reminder of whom you left behind. The flowers at your resting place will be red, the color of your blood, the color of my blood, the color of the blood that binds us. My blood pumps through me as yours lies still, this is also a way to make you remember what is still back home.
When it is quiet and I am lonely, I will think of you. Your spirit will comfort me as I silently allow my emotions to be unchained. As the sky darknes and night eats me up alive, I wil think of you, of the time we shared together. I will remember your eyes, how full they were, your lips, and your hands as they carressed me. Slowly, I sink into my memories. You shall be there and we will be together again. We both will be happy, finally. Then I drown in my tears, and as I reach the surface and gasp for air, the memories fade, and I am alone again.
Your love I cannot forget. Neither can I not remember the evil in your hear, and how you forced it upon me. The many nights we shared either ended in us lying next to each other peacefully, warm and content from love making, or me, unconscious and bleeding on the floor, and you, out in the night, drinking yourself into a fantasy world. In that land, you were back with your family, your friends still liked you...your life was normal again. In that place, you were happy. When I came into your life, you were free of responsibility; I took care of everything for you. You had no children to raise and care for, because your wife took them far away from you. My wife did the same. We both abandoned everything we could grasp tightly in our hands. Did you care? No, you only were happy to be removed from it all. With me, you could be yourself, and not have to worry about a repuation to maintain. I loved you, you loved me, and life was simple. You had nothing else to give; neither did I.
The nights we spent together were splendid, or at least most of them were. One night in particular will always stay with me. It was hot the summer it occurred, and in our small abode, the air conditioning broke frequently. The air conditioning finally died that night. You sweated buckets, while I kept cool by staying near the fans all the time. I could see the desire in your eyes, but you were so tired that you could barely stumble over to the fridge to get some water. Finally, though, you climbed on top of me and kissed me as though it was our last kiss. I remember every touch, every moan, every ecstasy-filled moment of that steamy night. It was one of our last, because that winter, on a cold, brisk night, you passed on to the next world.
Your battle for life was dashing, but heart-breaking too. I watched you deteriate from a strong, healthy, youthful man to a decrepit, hobbling dog. The disease didn't catch on until our relationship reached its full potential; we were both head over heels in love and didn't care what the rest of the world thought. I never thought that I could ever feels this way towards anyone, but my love for you was so strong that I could not control it. You love was the same; it flowed from you like a waterfall. Still, the disease ate away at you. You tried to convince me it was nothing, that it wasn't hurting you. I saw, though, the pain in your face as you walked about our home, the pain that cursed your days and reigned over your nights. When the set set, you coughed up the blood that kept you alive. Whne you finally fell into fitful unconsciouness, you were haunted by dreams of death and regret. Then, as the sun rose up into the sky again, you awoke, clutching your stomach, and wandered around the silent house, groaning. Sometimes, you would fall down the steps, so out of your mind you were. I heard you at those times; I came to you and aided you. Never did you verbally thank me, but the slow decrease in the pain in your eyes was enough for me.
Night slipped into day and autumn passed into winter. You lay on your death bed, gagging up your guts. I sat beside you, all the time. I watched you die.
Now life goes on beyond you. You dropped through the cracks and landed on your spine, cracking it and killing yourself. I cannot get you back; I cannt reach into the abyss and pull you soul back into your rotting body. You are gone, you have passed. Death curved its scythe toward you. I am the unfortunate remains.
Your son and daughter sometimes call, and ask me how I am feeling. They miss you, truly. Even your son, the one who used to worship you, then learned of your evils and backed away, needs you still. He cried one time, on the phone, just broke down and weeped. I guess you know that, since you're looking at us from heaven. Just thinking of you up there, in such a good place, makes me feel somewhat better. You deserve it, even with everything wrong you have done in your life. I hope that when I die, you'll be at the gates, waiting for me.
Forgive me for my selfishness. Forgive me for my never-ending humility and fragile state. Take me into your arms again. All I do is dream of our nights, dream of our days, and wait for my death. Years shall wither; so shall I. Then I can be with you, and we will be forgiven of our sins. Heaven may not like it, but I know that we will be together for eternity.
My heart was broken in two upon your death, but you can mend it your touch, your kiss, your adoration. I live for you, my prince, and I live in your memory. You're the only I could ever truly, wholly love with everything I have. Let the humble servant be cherished for once. Your love is all I need.