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The weight of Trunks lying boneless against his back felt heavier than it should have, the boy’s hand grasping feebly at the sleeve of Vegeta’s saiyin suit while the other one hung limp, the blood from his head wound dripping down his face and soaking into the fabric that clung to Vegeta’s shoulder blades as he carried them to safety. It was all he could do to keep them upright; their ki was dangerously low after the battle, and he feared he wouldn’t be able to make it to the lookout without sending both of them hurtling towards the ground if he tried to fly. And if that happened…
Trunks wouldn’t make it.
The thought came to Vegeta unbidden, and he shook it from his head. Trunks would be fine, even if his heartbeat was ragged and slow, and his ki was almost nonexistent, and his suit was torn to shreds from the wounds he’d sustained. He’d be fine. The boy was almost fully grown, after all, and he’d been through worse. There was no need to mollycoddle him.
“‘m sorry, dad…,” a weak voice murmured into his back. Vegeta’s ears perked up, and he peered over his shoulder to find Trunks’s looking up at him. The rich tone his skin usually bore had been drained of color, and Vegeta could tell Trunks was struggling to stay awake.
He scoffed. “You should be,” he scolded, although there was no conviction behind it. “Maybe if you’d trained harder, you wouldn’t be in this mess.”
It was an empty observation, seeing as how Vegeta was in only slightly better shape than Trunks was, but maybe it would keep him talking, keep him awake. Keep him alive.
“I know,” Trunks muttered, sounding miserable. His sweat-slick hair stuck to Vegeta’s shoulder. “‘ll do better next time, I’ll…”
He trailed off, and Vegeta’s heart skipped a beat. “Trunks?”
There was no answer. Vegeta shifted his son’s weight, hoping to jostle a response out of him. “Trunks.”
The boy’s ki dipped again, and the hand that had been gripping his father’s arm fell to his side. Fear coursed through Vegeta like an icy river.
“Hey!” he shouted. He paused, the fingers that clung to Trunks’s thighs growing tighter, until Vegeta’s knuckles went white. “Trunks? Trunks! Shit, come on, son, stay with me!”
Trunks stirred against his back, and a weak hand struggled to grip Vegeta’s wrist in what he could only assume was supposed to be a comforting gesture.
“‘m okay...sorry,” he said, so quiet that Vegeta almost didn’t catch it. “I’m...okay…”
Vegeta clenched his jaw and continued walking, the majority of his attention focused on feeling for any changes in the heartbeat that fluttered against his back.
“Just be quiet!” he shouted, although he wasn’t sure why. He wanted the boy to keep talking, to keep him from falling asleep and never waking up, but the sound of his frail voice filled Vegeta with dread, and he was afraid that Trunks would use up the rest of his strength apologizing to him.
I’m afraid, Vegeta realized. I’m afraid. I don’t want to lose him.
After all this time, after 17 years of watching Trunks grow and even after the birth of his second child, the fear Vegeta felt whenever one of them was hurt was still incredibly hard to deal with. His own father had never seemed unduly troubled about his children’s well-being, and Vegeta had just assumed that he would be much the same way, cold and distant and unconcerned. But even when Trunks had been small, hearing him cry out in pain or watching him hurt himself set off something in Vegeta that he hadn’t even known existed.
I’m afraid, he said to himself again. My child is dying, and I’m afraid.
“Dad?” Trunks called out.
“Shut up”, Vegeta snapped. “Save your strength.”
“Dad...I’m scared.”
Something clicked into place when Vegeta heard the vulnerability in his son’s voice. All the fear he’d felt earlier melted away, replaced by an overpowering drive to get his son to safety, to save him, to do what Trunks expected him to do.
He feels so safe around me, Vegeta thought. I can’t squander that.
Gritting his teeth, Vegeta scrounged up every bit of energy he had left in him and channeled it through his body, not caring if the over-exertion ended up killing him. It didn’t matter what happened to him, as long as Trunks was safe. He howled, tightened his hold on Trunks’s legs and shot off into the sky, setting a course for the lookout.