Passport to Paradise

Chapter 10

A few more days passed. Vegeta continued to care for Kakarotto, hoping against hope that he would wake up eventually. Alain no longer visited every day, but he did visit often to check up on the prince and ask if he needed anything. On the second day he did this, five days after he'd left the inn for another, he found Vegeta on his knees beside the bed, his hands clasped and his eyes closed, his face raised to the heavens. He stopped in the doorway and started to quietly back away when he heard the prince begin to speak.

"I'm not sure I believe in any of you, but I'm going to take a chance and ask for a favor anyway. You know what Kakarotto's going through and I want you to consider seriously the point of causing him so much suffering. First you take away everyone he's ever known, next you allow him to be sold into slavery where he was abused and neglected on a constant basis, then you let the barbarians find him, and now you've got him in a coma that he's unable to wake up from. Do you honestly think this is fair to Kakarotto?

"I will do anything to have him back as long as it doesn't take me away from him because that would kill me as surely as his death would. I know it sounds selfish to place a condition on his recovery, but that's just the way I am and nothing's going to change that. Anyway, that's all I have to say. Please save him. He's the only person I've ever loved." Vegeta lowered his head dejectedly and Alain left him alone.

On the sixteenth day since the breaking of Kakarotto's fever, Vegeta was drowsing in the early morning twilight when he felt Kakarotto stir. It instantly brought him awake completely as he hadn't moved since before they'd left the desert. He held his breath and watched the teen's face carefully for any signs that he was waking and when none were forthcoming, he settled back down onto the bed with a disappointed sigh.

"It's alright," he whispered soothingly. "Wake up when you want to. I'll still be here." He kissed him gently on the lips and settled back down beside him.

Kakarotto's mouth moved, but no sound came out. As Vegeta's eyes were closed, he didn't see him trying to speak, but he did feel the movement of his jaw against his face. He shifted so that he was on his knees and took his lover's nearest hand while examining his face closely. "Kakarotto, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand."

It was faint, but he detected movement. Vegeta began to grin and he brought Kakarotto's hand up to his chest. "You're going to be all right. Alain and I took you away from the desert about a month ago. You're in a town called Janan where a really good healer took a look at you and stitched up your injury the right way. Whoever did it before was an imbecile and I should dismember them for exposing you to infection like that."

"No," the teen whispered hoarsely. "Don't leave."

"I won't." He settled back down at his side, throwing an arm gently across his abdomen. "I'm going to stay by your side forever."

And he did stay right there, at least until his bladder's insistence could no longer be ignored. Kakarotto had fallen into a light doze that he did his best not to wake him from as he moved off the bed.

When he finished using the chamber pot, Kakarotto's eyes were open and staring at him. He smiled and just looked at him for a long moment. The teen was pale and shaky-looking, but he was conscious and that's all that mattered.

"Are you hungry? I've only been able to get broth and water into you."

"I'm starving," he sighed. "Can you do me a favor first, please?"

"Anything."

"Can you bring the pot over here? I really have to go." And then he blushed in embarrassment.

Vegeta didn't say a word. He helped him swing his legs over the side of the bed, steadying him with one hand when a momentary bout of dizziness made him lightheaded, then retrieved the chamber pot. He raised it up so that Kakarotto would find it easier to aim, politely averting his eyes when it was obvious that he was uncomfortable with being looked at while peeing. When he was back in bed beneath the covers, Vegeta went downstairs to order a breakfast tray for him. It was still fairly early so the day's morning meal had yet to be prepared, but the cook sent him back with a few leftover sweet rolls from the day before and a glass of milk. Kakarotto's eyes lit up at the sight of it, which caused Vegeta to laugh.

"I know it's been a while since you've eaten solid food, but you weren't even awake for most of it." He had to make light of the entire thing or he could easily find himself in a corner trembling as everything that had happened from the second day of being in Fisher's Cove finally caught up with him.

"Well, my mind might not miss it, but my body sure does." Then he proceeded to attack the food like a ravenous wild animal, hardly pausing to chew before he swallowed. Vegeta just watched him with a look of fascination on his face.

After he moved the tray to a small wooden table beneath the room's only window, Kakarotto talked Vegeta into cuddling with him. Although the prince had done almost nothing but hold his lover while he was unconscious, it was incredibly embarrassing to do it while he was awake. But he evetually relented since his body was crying out for the contact. It felt infinitely better to hold Kakarotto when he was able to hold him back.

"The healer instructed me to fetch him when you woke up. It won't take very long."

"I wish you didn't have to go," he said so quietly that the words almost held no sound. He folded his hands in his lap and looked down at them as Vegeta dressed. Without anything to distract him the memories were free to come again. He didn't want to remember how Fisher's Cove had looked as the fires ate away at it. He didn't want to remember the ceremony and the way the ritual knife had felt cutting deep into his body. He didn't want to remember that he had failed the entire world.

"There was nothing you could do," Vegeta said firmly from the doorway.

Kakarotto looked up and pasted a false smile on his face. "I know," he lied easily. The prince frowned, but did not try to correct him.

When he left there was nothing else to distract him from his grief. The tears ran unchecked down his cheeks, made even more poignant by the lack of sound accompanying them.