Chapter 39- Moving On
"Vegeta will be fine. The bullet didn't go into his brain. He only has a small crack and a minor concussion. We've pulled the bullet from his shoulder, fixed his head up a bit, and put in a few stitches. I noticed that he had previous injuries, but nothing seemed to be out of place—more than it should be anyway." The doctor, dressed in green scrubs told the group of people gathered in the waiting room. He looked at his clipboard and then back to the wide-eyed and worried teens. "We removed the bullet from the other boy...what was his...Goku!...Goku's leg with no problems. His femur is fractured and he'll have to stay off it for a while. The burns on all three of the boys were not horrible, and they should all recover from that with only minimal scarring. Two of them are in the same room, as per requests" He eyed Bulma. "and the other one will be joining them after a few other checks."
"Can we visit them?" ChiChi asked.
"Sure. Room 378. Just down the hall." The doctor pointed which way, and then left.
The three girls scurried out of the waiting room and down the hallway until they reached the room the doctor indicated. They walked in with a bit more composure than they'd had a minute ago to find Goku and Krillin awake and staring at them.
"Oh good." Goku said looking relieved. "I thought you were somebody here to give us shots."
ChiChi rolled her eyes at her boyfriend's ridiculous phobia.
"Grab a chair." Krillin said.
"So what about Vegeta?" Goku asked.
"He's fine. It's not as bad as it looked, apparently." Bulma said. "I'm bribing the staff to put you in the same room, by the way."
"Oh is that how that happened?" Krillin mused.
Goku chuckled at Bulma's news. "And here I thought they really liked us."
The gang continued to talk, carefully avoiding any mention of what had happened earlier, until Vegeta was rolled in.
He was still unconscious, but the doctors said that he would wake up soon.
The teenagers continued to talk, but lowered their voices.
About an hour later, a low groan was heard from Vegeta's bed. Bulma immediately scurried over, motioning for the other girls to stay where they were.
Vegeta's eyes were fluttering open just as Bulma approached. He seemed to be confused as he looked around with half glazed eyes.
Bulma rested a light hand on his cheek and gently stroked it. "Vegeta?" She whispered. "Are you with us?"
His eyes finally settled on her and he nodded slowly.
"You feeling okay, baby." She asked him softly.
He nodded again.
"You can go back to sleep if you want." She said. "We're all staying here."
Vegeta looked over to see the other people in the room, and then looked back to Bulma. "Thanks." He whispered hoarsely before his eyes slowly closed again.
Goku and Krillin were released from the hospital after a few days, but Vegeta was forced to remain. He was moved to his own room, which he was extremely grateful for after spending three days in the same room as Goku and Krillin.
Bulma's parents had come home the day after the fire. The three of them were staying at a nearby hotel until everything that the fire had damaged could be repaired.
Bulma came by everyday to talk to Vegeta and give him company. To her relief, the shot to his head had indeed been less serious than it looked. In less than a week, Vegeta was able to walk, though he was a bit wobbly.
Bulma sometimes brought movies or games when she visited, but usually they just talked. Vegeta, by nature, was not fond of conversation, but Bulma always pestered him until he talked to her. The more she did that, and the more time she spent with him, the more Vegeta realized how much he really liked her. He was actually willing to talk to her, and usually even enjoyed their conversations and playful arguments. He would watch the clock all day, until she was out of school and came to visit him. He always felt his heart lift when she walked into the room, and he worried when she was late. He had never felt the way he felt about her, and it confused him.
Bulma was not so confused. She had always thought that she loved Yamcha, but now she realized that it hadn't been that at all. With Vegeta, she was willing to just sit and talk to him, instead of constantly groping and kissing as most of her relationship with Yamcha had consisted of. Some days, if he fell asleep, she would just sit in silence and watch him. This, she knew, was love.
After nearly three weeks, Vegeta was allowed to leave the hospital. Capsule Corp. had been returned to its former glory, and Vegeta was put back into his old room.
He was allowed back to school after a few days, and was dismayed to find that everyone still stared at him and asked him questions. He had hoped that they wouldn't.
He knew the trial was approaching, and he was getting more nervous about it everyday. Some nights he could hardly sleep, and his school work suffered for it.
Bulma had started to worry about him, but she didn't say anything. This, she knew, was something that he had to handle on his own, and she knew that he wouldn't want her to push him to talk. He would come when he was ready.
He always did.
And she was always there, ready to listen, or just to be there.
Vegeta sat in the back of the court room, his heart thumping. He was silently praying that he wouldn't have to testify. He didn't think he could do it.
When his father had been brought in, he had looked shocked for a second to see Vegeta there. Then, he regained himself and sent Vegeta the most hateful glare Vegeta had ever seen. Vegeta had just sat there frozen. He couldn't even look away.
"Will the defense rise." The judge said with distaste as he stared down at the man in handcuffs before him. Vegeta watched as his father and his attorney stood. "Bailiff, please read the charges."
A man in uniform also stood and began to read off of a paper. "Thedrick Senovitz, you are charged with murder in the first degree of four people, being affiliated with assassins, repeated attempts at murder, holding two people hostage, stalking, kidnapping, assault on a minor, breaking and entering, child abuse, domestic violence, arson, possession of illegal drugs, forcing illegal drugs on a minor, and car theft."
"Is that all?" The judge asked fully expecting the man to continue.
"Yes sir." The bailiff answered.
"Well then. Defense how do you plead?"
"Your honor," The lawyer, Edward Unst, began. "my client is not mentally sound."
"Can you prove this?"
"Yes sir. The psychiatrist at the West City Police Department, has examined him and reached the same conclusion."
"So in pleading insanity, you are saying that your client is guilty of all these charges?" The judge asked, scowling even more.
"Yes sir."
"If he is insane, he cannot receive the death penalty, but, I would like to hear from this psychiatrist myself."
"Patricia Sandsworth, would you please take the stand."
A woman, probably in her early thirties, with short cropped black hair rose and walked to the stand. After the bailiff swore her in, she sat down.
Unst walked to stand before her. "Miss Sandsworth," He began. "You have examined Mr. Senovitz correct."
"Correct." She stated.
"And upon this examination, what conclusions can you make about his mental health?"
"Mr. Senovitz is a very complex case. I could not diagnose him with any specific disorder, but it was plain to me that he was mentally disturbed. Years of alcoholism and drug addictions have obviously altered his mental state and destroyed his ability to think rationally, particularly in his ability to distinguish bad from good. While he could point out people who he though were bad, he displayed an inability to clearly tell me what made them good or bad or their actions right or wrong. His case is not a surface level dementia, but a malfunction in the cerebrum caused by stress, drugs, and a degraded mental state."
"Would he be a danger to himself or other people if placed in jail."
"Mr. Senovitz presents no danger to himself at the moment, but is a clear danger to others if left unsupervised. With the proper treatment and care, however, I believe it is possible to stop his violent tendencies. No such care can be provided in any prison. In fact, it is highly probable that placing him into a prison setting will result in him becoming more violent."
"Thank you Miss Sandsworth. Nothing further."
"Does the prosecution have any questions for Miss. Sandsworth?"
"No your honor."
"In that case, I am sentencing Mr. Senovitz to be placed into the West City Mental Asylum for sixty years, during which time, he shall undergo treatment to rectify his mental state." The judge banged his gavel once. "Court dismissed."
Vegeta released a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding at the judge's decree. Although he was relieved that his father was now completely out of his life, he was kind of disappointed that he would not serve time in jail. Completely unbidden, his thoughts traveled to his mother. He'd always tried not to think of her, of what his father had done to her. He thought his father was getting off easy, far too easy for all of the horrible crimes he'd committed.
As he watched the police escort his father from the court room, Vegeta tried to feel at least some satisfaction in the fact that he would probably never be able to walk about freely again. He couldn't.
"You okay?" Someone asked. He looked to the speaker: Detective Johnson.
"Yeah." Vegeta said quietly his eyes moving back to his lap. He was at least relieved that he hadn't had to testify.
"Your friends are waiting outside." The procession had been closed to the public.
"Okay." Vegeta said standing. He was about to leave, when the detective lightly grabbed his arm.
"Look if you ever need someone to talk to…"
Vegeta just nodded. He knew that he'd never take the detective up on the offer, and from the look on the detective's face, he supposed that he knew it too.
Bulma, Goku, Chuckie, Gee, and ChiChi were waiting right outside the chamber door. They all looked at him expectantly.
"He pleaded insane." Vegeta informed them trying to keep his voice even. "They're giving him 60 in an asylum." No one commented, knowing that that wasn't what he'd hoped for.
Chuckie gave him a hug. "How about we get something to eat." She suggested.
Vegeta shrugged.
Goku draped and arm around Vegeta's shoulder in a brotherly way as they started walking toward the exit.
Detectives Johnson and Brianna had been standing off to the side a bit, but came over to them as soon as they started walking. "We're going to escort you guys out. There are a lot of photographers." Brianna told them.
They all walked out to the car, everyone working to shield Vegeta from the photographers as they chased them down the sidewalk. Bulma and Vegeta got into Gee's car, while Goku and ChiChi went to Goku's truck. The photographers were still trying to get around the two detectives and get a clear picture as Gee's car drove away.
"You sure you're okay, Vegeta?" Bulma asked once they were on the road.
"I'm fine." He answered.
Bulma scooted over toward him and then leaned on him. She smiled a bit as Vegeta wrapped an arm around her. "Maybe we could just order a pizza." Bulma suggested.
"Yeah." Vegeta agreed.
After the trial, Vegeta moved back into his old apartment. Bulma had begged him to stay at Capsule Corp. with her, but Vegeta had explained to her that life at Capsule Corp didn't suit him. He wasn't used to being catered to. He wanted to get back to his old job, and to his old apartment.
Bulma had known that she'd still see him everyday, at school, at his apartment, and once she turned 18, at his job. They had hung out together after school, until Vegeta was well enough to begin practice, and then, Bulma would go to his apartment, which he had given her the key to, and wait for him with supper before he went to work. A few times, Vegeta had sneaked her into Gee's just for fun, usually on Saturday nights.
The first time he'd done it, she'd stayed beside him the entire night, only moving when it was so late that most of the people had left. Vegeta had watched suspiciously from his post by the door as Bulma had whispered something to Chuckie. He grew even more suspicious when Chuckie had disappeared into the back room, and some slow music had begun to play on the bar's speakers.
Bulma had run over to him and started pulling him to the middle of the floor. He'd panicked once he'd realized what she'd wanted, and started giving her random arguments as to why he couldn't dance with her. Once she'd argued with him until he admitted that his shoulder didn't hurt, and Gee had told him that he'd allow it, Bulma had wrapper her arms around his neck and pressed herself lightly against him.
Truthfully, he'd never danced before, except for with Bulma's mother and Chuckie those times that they'd tried to teach him.
He'd been totally frozen at first, but Bulma had gently placed his hands on her hips and led him until he'd gotten over his idea that dancing was difficult.
It soon became their habit. They would wait until most of the people went home, and then Chuckie would put on some slow music they'd dance. Bulma's parents never found out about those times, but it was those quiet times, with dim lights and slow music, when the two could just enjoy each other's company without anyone judging them that Vegeta and Bulma felt closest.
Vegeta stood silently as he gazed through the glass. He had no idea why he came here. He never wanted to see this man again, yet for some reason he had come to visit him. Bulma had said it was something about past demons, but he had hardly paid attention to her.
"Father." He finally said.
The man he had addressed cocked his head slightly but did not get off the bed he had been sitting on, nor did he turn to face him.
Vegeta didn't know what to say to this man, so he just lapsed back into the same uncomfortable silence he had been upholding for the last ten minutes. Somehow, seeing this man in padded walls and medical wear did not satisfy him. He had hoped it would. For some reason though, he was saddened. Seeing his father made him wish that he'd had a normal life, a normal childhood. He wanted to hate this man like he had for his entire life, but seeing him reduced to this state, somehow had him wanting to be civil toward him.
"So...uh...how have you been?" He asked grabbing a chair from against the wall and sitting down. He got no answer, so decided to continue talking. "Well I graduated from high school a few months ago, and I'm going to college at Northern to play football. I've got a girlfriend too. I'm going to ask her to marry me. I think I'm going to miss my old job though as much as I didn't want to stay there, but I'll still be working there through..."
"What do you want?" The man didn't move when he said it.
"Huh?"
"Did you come here just to brag? To rub it in my face that I lost and you won?"
"Won?"
"They've been trying to "treat" me. They read me stories and ask me what the moral is. They make me talk about you and what you did."
"Did?"
"They try to convince me that I was wrong...about everything. About you. Do you think I was wrong?"
"Yes."
"What do you know?" He grumbled. "This is all your fault to begin with."
"Don't you think it odd that you're the only person who thinks the way you do? That everyone else says you're wrong?"
"Popular belief isn't absolute."
Vegeta didn't know what to say to that. He knew what he said was true in some cases. "But couldn't you just..."
"Just what? Try to believe everyone is good? Let evil just run rampant? I created you, what does anyone care whether I destroy you? People do it all the time."
Vegeta just sighed. He couldn't contradict the last part, and he couldn't think of anything to say to the first. The man was infuriating. "Why couldn't you have just been a normal father?" He whispered, but his father heard him.
"Normal? You mean just blend in and do whatever everyone else does? Follow "society" straight to the underworld?"
"Not everyone's the same. You can be a good person and not be a vigilante. Plant a tree, recycle, support orphanages, go to church, join the police force. I don't know. You could have just had a job and supported your family."
"Why are you still here?"
"I don't know." Vegeta said, and truly he didn't. "I guess…I guess just because you're my father."
"The devil is your father boy."
Vegeta just stared at him. Slowly, he stood. He was about to walk away when he suddenly remembered something.
"…The symbol means evil…once the symbol is carved, it will judge you. If you are really evil the mark will stay on your chest forever. If you are not, it will disappear…"
Without saying a word, Vegeta lifted his shirt. His father's eyes widened at the sight of Vegeta's scar-less, symbol-less chest.
Vegeta left without looking back, a small smirk on his face.
"So?" Bulma asked as Vegeta got into the car. There was a light drizzle outside, but the day was pretty warm.
"Still crazy." Vegeta said. Wiping some water off of his arm.
Bulma looked at him to see if that was bad or good. She saw his smirk and smiled a bit. "So where to?" She asked after a few seconds.
"Huh?" Vegeta asked. He'd been lost in thought.
"Where are we going?"
"Doesn't matter." Vegeta said.
Bulma was about to put the car in drive when Vegeta grabbed her hand. "Wait." He said digging in his pocket.
Bulma looked on curiously. Her eyes lit up as Vegeta pulled out a small box and opened it. Inside laid a beautiful golden ring.
"Bulma, will you marry me?" He asked, fear and hope mingling in his eyes.
Bulma smiled a dazzling smile as she jumped into his lap. "Yes!" She said while smothering his face with kisses. "Yes!"
The End
Well I hope you enjoyed it. I must say that it's a relief to finally have finished with this. I thought it was a nice touch to finish it for Christmas. Hehe.
Merry Christmas!