Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ AFTER THE KISS ❯ Chapter 10 ( Chapter 10 )

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonballz nor am I making any money off this story. I'm just having a wee bit of fun.

AFTER THE KISS

*Chapter 10*

The eye of the hurricane, that was how Bulma would later think of this time. The previous week had been a storm of battles, activity, prayers and losses. One step forward and two steps back, she thought, remembering how every time they felt they had a small advantage over their opponents, someone would squander it, leaving them in a worse position than before. If only Krillen had used the remote control device, she thought. If only Vegeta had destroyed Cell when he had the chance. . . or Trunks for that matter. He could have done it too, before Vegeta let him absorb Android Eighteen. The first part of the storm passed and then came the eerie calm of waiting. Ten days that seemed both never-ending and too short at the same time. Tomorrow the storm would return with the incongruous title of "Games". Would it leave even greater destruction in its wake? She thought so. Somehow she couldn't shake this feeling of death. This time, they wouldn't get off scot-free.

She had spent time with her friends, determined to enjoy these last good days. Krillen and Yamcha were found at Master Roshi's and even the old pervert's ass-grabs and double-entendres couldn't dampen the visit. They had reminisced about the "old days." Geez, are we really so old that we can have "old days?" Bulma thought. They didn't discuss the upcoming battle with Cell, although Bulma found the courage to ask Krillen what had really happened with the remote control device. He had blushed profusely and mumbled something about "the right opportunity" and "an accident," then he ran off claiming the call of nature. Yamcha overheard the conversation, though, and told Bulma the truth.

"He had a crush on her-- the girl android," he said. "He just couldn't press the button and crushed the controller. Hard to believe, isn't it? She was cute, I'll give her that, but I just don't see what Krillen saw in that cold-hearted, murdering machine. Now that's desperate!" He laughed a little and caught Bulma's eyes, which were not smiling. "Oops. Sorry."

"It's alright. Nobody knows better than me the depths of my insanity," she said.

"So do you and Vegeta talk at all?"

"No, and that's probably for the best. He's in full "repair my damaged pride" mode right now, which means he walks around like he's got a mouthful of razorblades and spits them out to cut whoever is foolish enough to speak to him. He spends most of his time away from Capsule Corporation. He's. . . I can't believe he's the same man I slept with. At the time, I was so certain I was getting to know him somehow, breaking through some barriers. Now I look back and it seems like such a waste."

Yamcha was never happy about Bulma's affair with Vegeta and he didn't like it when she referred to it, but she sounded so glum he did what he could to cheer her up.

"Hey, at least you got this great consolation prize!" Yamcha said, tickling Trunks's feet. Trunks giggled and Bulma brightened up.

"You're right about that! Trunks is perfect, aren't you, baby?" She lifted his shirt and blew a raspberry on his belly, making him giggle even more.

"He grows up pretty good, too. Don't you think?" Yamcha asked.

"Yeah, that Trunks is such nice boy, but so serious! At first it was weird, me calling him Trunks and him calling me Mom, but now I know I'm going to miss him-which is ridiculous because I've got him right here! I just have to wait a while for him to grow up, that's all. And not screw him up in the meantime!"

"I don't think that'll happen. I think you're a great mom, Bulma."

"Thanks, Yamcha." She looked out at the blue ocean. "It's been a good day, hasn't it?"

"The best," he said.

Another day she flew out to Goku's house and while Chi-chi seemed a little put out at having to share Goku and Gohan with others, (Tien and Chaotzu were also there,) she still put out a feast for everyone. More memories were shared and even Chi-chi joined in with a few of her own, pulling out Gohan's baby pictures and embarrassing the boy thoroughly.

Before she left, Bulma cornered Goku alone.

"So how many punches do you think it will take before you put out Cell's lights?" she asked.

"Oh, I don't think I can beat him. He's a lot stronger than I am."

"What! You don't mean that!"

"It's true, Bulma. He's stronger."

"But. . . that means. . . you don't think we have a chance?"

"Oh, we have a chance. Don't worry, Bulma. Everything will be fine."

"How can you tell me not to worry when you just said you can't beat him!"

"Trust me, Bulma. And don't worry," he said and he gave her that look, the serious look he got when everything was at stake and he knew it was his job to save it all. Bulma knew better than to doubt that look and swallowed what she was about to say.

Goku's face cleared. "Hey, I think you'd better go rescue Trunks. Chaotzu is trying to make him laugh and he doesn't look like he thinks it's funny."

Bulma giggled. "Trunks doesn't like clowns, so I think I'd better rescue Chaotzu!"

********************************************************* ******************

"Mom, can you unlock this capsule? Grandpa needs the photon laser."

Bulma looked up from the computer to see Trunks at her desk. She had been backing up files on her hard drive to store them off-site should the worst occur tomorrow. She took the capsule from him with a smile and a roll of her eyes.

"He insists we store things like this in combination capsules, but he never can remember the combination. I'm about to change it to his birthday, but I have serious doubts he can remember that!"

She punched in the code on the capsule, heard the ping of success and handed it back to Trunks. She looked back at her computer screen, but Trunks didn't leave.

"Did you need something else?" she asked.

"No . . . er, yes," He looked decidedly uncomfortable. "Can I ask you something?"

Here it comes, Bulma thought. She had been dreading this moment ever since she'd soaked in the reality of Trunks's other life, since she realized the depths of his grief. It wasn't the mourning for a world destroyed. Worlds could be rebuilt. It was the people that never came back. In his world, death was final. There were no second chances, no ways to redo the moments in life you regret.

Bulma waited, but the words did not come. So like Vegeta, she thought. He'd die before he'd admit he needed something from another person. Was he always like this or had being around Vegeta for a year changed him?

"Is this about Vegeta?" she asked gently and relief flooded his features. "You want to know how you happened?"

"Yes," he said. "I tried to ask my mom, but she . . . she never really says anything."

"Sit down, Trunks," she said and turned away from the keyboard. If the topic had been fusion engines she would have continued to tap away at her task and remained fully in control of the conversation, but Vegeta was not a topic to multi-task through. "What did your mother tell you?"

"She said not to expect too much," he said with a weak laugh.

Bulma smiled. "That sounds like good advice where Vegeta is concerned."

"She said she knew he cared though, even though he never said anything."

Bulma's eyebrows raised and she sighed. "Vegeta is not the type to make declarations . . . but I can say that I too believed he cared."

"You don't think he does anymore?"

"Trunks, you need to understand that Vegeta - this Vegeta, I have no idea what your father was like --- has a very limited definition of himself. Anything that interferes with his determination to be the strongest warrior is unacceptable and won't be tolerated. That includes me, baby Trunks and you. We're reminders that there's more to him than what he thinks there is. Sometimes I think that scares him and that's why he acts the way he does towards us."

"Father scared? That's hard to believe."

"He's lived most of his life for one ideal; I think the idea of change terrifies him."

Trunks fell silent as he absorbed this information. She could see him trying to fit this piece of information into the puzzle that was Vegeta.

"You spent a year with him in the Room of Spirit and Time. Didn't you talk to him at all?" she asked. She was intensely curious about the time Vegeta spent with his son alone in the Room, but she hadn't wanted to broach the subject with Trunks. Son or no son, it seemed like too personal a subject.

"I tried at first, but he mostly ignored me unless he wanted to fight."

"I'm sorry," she said. "It must be a disappointment to come all this way only to be ignored."

"He only outright ignored me when I tried to talk to him about stuff like, you know, you. He pissed me off the way he was going to let your ship fall and I told him so."

Bulma winced. She didn't like to think about her ultimate folly-how she foolishly and pridefully put herself and Trunks in danger. She remembered teasing Yajirobe-Vegeta won't let anything happen to us! Boy, had that statement jinxed the whole afternoon! Had she unconsciously decided to test the limits of his refusal to care? She didn't think so, but it didn't matter in the end why she had flown half-cocked into battle. If Vegeta had wanted to prove to her his resolve, he couldn't have chosen a better method. Bulma only wished that she could stop caring as easily.

"Well, it was a bad idea for me to go there in the first place. I don't know what I was thinking-I wasn't thinking, I guess. But you were there to save us, so no harm done!" She smiled brightly. "And remember, from the instant you returned, the timeline shifted. What your mom and Vegeta experienced is probably very different from what happened here. If your dad was still alive in your time I know he couldn't ignore you."

Cautious hope filled his eyes. "You think so?"

"I know so, Trunks. What parent wouldn't be proud to have a son like you? You smart and strong and handsome! I bet the girls go crazy over you!"

He blushed. "No, not yet. But people are so scattered now. They're afraid to make themselves targets by living in the cities."

"Oh. Well, when you go back and defeat the androids in your time people won't be afraid anymore. They'll come back and the girls won't know what hit 'em!"

He didn't seem cheered by her upbeat attitude; he sat there, thoughtful and silent. Was he thinking of his world's destruction or was he still thinking of Vegeta? At last, he stood up, took the capsule and said, "Well, I guess I'd better get this to Grandpa. He's probably wondering what happened to me."

Bulma came around her desk to give him a hug, but afterward she didn't let him go and pulled back to look him in the eyes.

"Look, Trunks, I don't have any answers for you about Vegeta. All I can tell you is he's driven by demons that have been chasing him since long before you or I ever met him. He's never had a family or even any friends really. He's never been able to rely on anyone but himself. Relationships like we want to have with him are alien to him. He doesn't understand them. He's scared of them . . . I really think he's scared. So . . . don't judge him too harshly, OK?"

"I don't, Mom. I think I understand him a little better now." He pulled out of her embrace to leave, but paused at the door. "You want to hear something crazy? He hasn't done anything to be proud of, but I'm still proud of him."

"Then we're both crazy, because I feel the same way," Bulma said. She suddenly felt like crying, but she didn't until Trunks was out the door and far down the hall.

********************************************************* *****************

Bulma spent the rest of the day pensive, recalling the visits she'd made the past week. She had been determined to make sure the possible last ten days of her life were going to be memorable and they had been. It was a shame it took something like the end of the world to make people realize what was important; not money or possessions, beauty or fame, but friends and family. Bulma had managed to spend some time with everyone, making sure they knew how important they were in her life. Well, everyone but Piccolo and Vegeta.

Piccolo she didn't worry about. She knew he was on their side now and she was glad for it, but the alien's disposition never really lent itself to the kind of friendship that Bulma could provide. She was grateful for that, since she wouldn't know how to go about being friends with someone like Piccolo anyway. She supposed Gohan's friendship was enough for him and it was probably more appreciated anyway.

Which left Vegeta. She didn't like the way they'd parted that night and everything that had happened since then hadn't improved anything. His behavior this past week had been obnoxious to say the least. Sometimes though, sometimes she thought she saw something else in his straight back and proud eyes. Sometimes she thought she saw uncertainty and perhaps regret. Of what he was uncertain, she couldn't say. He certainly had plenty to regret, but whether it was something she wished he would regret; like his treatment of her, the cold shoulder he constantly gave the son who so wanted his approval, or his vanity that allowed him to let Cell absorb the other android; she couldn't know. He was, as always, an enigma.

So she'd saved him for last. Literally. The Games began tomorrow and if she was going to say anything to him, it had to be tonight. Assuming he was in his room. She suspected her subconscious mind had made her plan it this way so she could tell herself she tried, but he wasn't there. And if he dies tomorrow? Would I still feel like the last minute effort was enough? Or will I spend the rest of my life wishing I'd at least told him the truth?

Not wanting to traipse through the house, alerting her ever inquisitive mother that she was there, she brought a ladder to get to Vegeta's second story room. She looked up and noticed the window was open, but the room was dark. That's not promising, she thought. She plopped the ladder against the house, climbed up to the open window and crawled inside.

The room was empty. She looked into the black corners and squinted her eyes to see if there was any sign he was at least in the compound, but she didn't see anything.

"Vegeta?" she called softly.

No answer. Disappointed, she turned and stuck one leg back out the window onto the ladder.

"What do you want?"

"Vegeta?" She crawled back inside and looked around the room again. "Where are you?"

In a dark corner, Vegeta levitated slowly to the floor.

"Waiting to see who was foolish enough to climb into my room," he said. "I should have known it was you."

"I see your mood has improved." she said dryly.

"Is that why you're here? To check my 'mood'?"

"No."

"What then? Did you come here to berate me for not destroying Cell when I had the chance? Don't bother. Your son has done that quite enough, thank you."

"I won't deny that it would have saved us all a lot of trouble if you had, but you're not the only one who blew it. Krillen could have destroyed the android before Cell absorbed her. Trunks could have destroyed Cell himself, but stayed his hand out of some misguided attempt to please you. I suppose Goku even shares some blame because he should have destroyed Dr. Gero when he had the chance. "

"How is Kakarott? Trunks said he hasn't trained at all."

"No, he's been spending time with his family. He. . . he says Cell is stronger than he is, but he still thinks we have a chance to win. I wish I could be as sure."

She fell silent. She half-expected Vegeta to launch into one of his "I'm going to defeat Cell" tirades, but he didn't. She wished he would move out of the dark corner so she could see more than his outline. That's all he ever lets anyone see, she thought. Just an outline, a sketch, and just those features that he deems important. That's why being his lover was so revealing. I saw so much more than he normally shows.

"So?" Vegeta prompted.

"So what?"

"What is your purpose for invading my room and by the window, no less?" Bulma wished he hadn't added that last bit. It brought up memories of other entries by window and the pleasure that followed. She hoped he didn't think she was here for that!

"I, uh, I just wanted to say I'm sorry." she said. "I said a lot of mean things to you that night outside my house. You really hurt me when you left for space the way you did and I was still angry. 'Hell hath no fury' and all that." She gave a weak smile. "The truth is I don't want you dead. And I don't really regret sleeping with you. The three weeks I spent in your arms was the most soul-shattering experience of my life. It has brought me a lot of pain, yes, but I've learned so much about myself. And it gave me Trunks. You gave me the most wonderful gift I've ever received, even if you didn't mean to. So I can't regret being with you. Ever."

She paused and waited to see if he would say anything. There was no response, no indication he was even paying attention.

"I also wanted to thank you for fighting tomorrow. . ."

"I'm not fighting for your stupid world! I fight for myself, for pride."

"I know that Vegeta. I'm not stupid or deaf. You've been saying that for the last ten days! But the fact remains that you are fighting. Even if you defeat Cell for your own reasons, we still win. We get to live the rest of our lives. I get to see Trunks grow up. . . . I wonder if he'll turn out like the one from the future."

There was a snort from the corner. "I hope not. Impudent boy. No respect for his betters."

"He tries so hard to please you. All he wants is some sign of your approval. Is that so hard to give?"

There was more silence, then, "Yes."

"Is it because you don't approve of him or because you don't know how to show him you approve?" she asked.

She waited through the silence, but this time there was no answer.

"Well," she sighed, "I've said what I came to say. I'll leave you to your darkness." She turned to go.

"How is Trunks?"

Bulma froze. Somehow she knew he didn't mean the one from the future. He meant her son. . .their son. He had never asked about Trunks before, never even referred to him by name. She couldn't have been more shocked if he'd asked what designer label was in her shirt.

"Trunks? He. . .he's fine. He's perfect actually. Such a sweet little boy. He's trying to walk now which is good because he'll be a lot happier when he can get around better and bad because he'll be able to get into more stuff that he shouldn't. The other night I spent forty-five minutes watching some infomercial on knives because he'd gotten his chubby fingers on the remote and I couldn't pry his hand off. He's already so strong! I don't know what I'll do when he learns to fly. . . ."

She stopped when she realized she was babbling and probably making a fool of herself in the process.

"You won't have to worry about that for a while yet. I didn't fly until I was four," Vegeta said.

His voice sounded so. . .gentle. If it weren't for the facts that he was imparting personal information and that they hadn't exchanged a civil word in over two weeks, the conversation would seem normal. Was he trying to bridge a gap or was he just in some kind of funk and tomorrow he'd be back to his usual spiteful self? Bulma couldn't tell. Reading Vegeta was like reading a subway map in a foreign language. You could pick a destination, but it was anybody's guess if you would wind up where you wanted to be.

Take a chance, her brain said. What's the worst that could happen?

"You know," she said, "if everything works out the way we hope tomorrow, maybe you could come over for dinner one night and meet Trunks. I don't think you two have ever been properly introduced."

There was a pause as he seemed to consider her offer.

"Doubtful," he replied. "After I defeat Cell I have other plans."

Figures, she thought. Just an aberration, that moment a few seconds ago. The exception that proves the rule.

"Of course," she said. "But the offer stands, if your plans change."

She waited a moment more to see if he would answer, then she left through the window and down the ladder. She flew home to her little house and rocked her baby. She finally went to bed when she realized she was falling asleep herself and would wake up with a huge crick in her neck if she didn't lie down. If tomorrow was going to be her last day, she wasn't going to spend it in pain.

********************************************************* *******************************************

The Earth had stopped shaking and the dust had settled. Almost everywhere else on Earth, there was celebration. People were cheering, laughing and clasping each other in joy, even dancing in the streets. The chant of "Satan, Satan" could be heard for miles around any large city. But not here. Here, a lone figure did not feel joy at the victory over Cell; he didn't laugh or dance. He didn't cheer for the Savior of the Earth, Mr. Satan. He was not relieved that the Earth would live another day. This man felt nothing. For this man, there was nothing.

Nothing.

Never in his life had he had less than he did now. Even when he learned planet Vegeta was destroyed and he would never return to the palace on the shores of Brean, never see his father again, never ascend to the Getal throne of the first Vegeta; even then he had more.

He had hate. He had anger. He had revenge.

They were his only possessions for twenty years, but they were enough. Even when Kakarott killed Frieza and removed the object of all his malice, he so thoughtfully left himself as the new target of Vegeta's hate, anger and thirst for revenge. Vegeta was hardly empty-handed.

Now in one fell swoop, Kakarott had swept them away. In dying, he had left Vegeta with nothing. Nothing to hate, nothing at which to rage and no one on whom to exact revenge. Vegeta had nothing.

Kakarott! You killed yourself on purpose so you wouldn't have to face me, he thought. Yet even as he thought it, he knew it was false. Vegeta had never been a motivating factor in Kakarott's life. Vegeta had probably not even crossed Kakarott's mind as he sacrificed himself. Vegeta and anything he might want, need or crave wasn't even a footnote on Kakarott's 'to-do' list. These thoughts infuriated Vegeta, but without anyone at whom to direct his fury, there was no point to it. It was impotent, unsatisfying and he let it go.

So now I have nothing. I could go try to pick a fight with Gohan, but he doesn't want to fight. He doesn't like to fight. He's not a warrior, he doesn't understand. Not like Kakarott. Kakarott understood. . .and he's gone.

A wave of loneliness passed over Vegeta. He stamped it down quickly, refusing to accept that on some level he might miss the moron. Kakarott was nothing to him. . . .nothing! A disgrace to the name of Saiyan! He was glad, yes glad, the idiot was no longer around to plague him. The entire universe awaited him! He certainly wasn't going to sit here and mope about someone who wasn't fit to lick his boots! The Earth was just a stop on the way to greatness. There was nothing for him here. . . .

Unbidden, Bulma's face came to his mind. He thought about their last encounter and was glad it hadn't been hostile. It was good that she seemed to have found some measure of peace regarding their stormy relationship. She deserved peace. She had given him so many things. Not just food and shelter or even the gravity room and all that came with it, but beauty, affection and even a small measure of peace for himself, however brief. And a son! A child that was never intended, a mistake even, but real nonetheless. He had never given much thought to having a child. It had always been a part of his grandiose "rule the galaxy" fantasy which included founding a dynasty; anything more specific than that hadn't been considered. Now the thought of "ruling the galaxy" had lost much of its appeal. It had always been part and parcel with defeating Frieza and taking control of his territories. Frieza had been dead for years. Others had already carved up his empire and wresting control from the new regimes just didn't have the same appeal as wresting control from Frieza. . . .

So it was good that he had already passed on the royal genes. With no empire to rule there was no need for a dynasty, but it wasn't right that his line vanish from the universe. Trunks would be safe here with Bulma. He would grow up rich and powerful in his own way. Perhaps Bulma might one day tell him that he was from a line of great kings from a long gone world. The boy wouldn't understand, of course, not really, but he might feel pride all the same. It would be enough, he thought. In truth, it's more than I ever really thought I would have.

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The last person Dr. Briefs expected to walk into his office that afternoon was Vegeta. They had said their goodbyes to his grandson from the future earlier that day. Vegeta had put in an appearance, standing outside the group but clearly there to see the young man off, mildly surprising Dr. Briefs. Vegeta had gone out of his way to avoid the boy while he was here and Dr. Briefs didn't think there was any love lost between the two. Perhaps they came to some kind of understanding, what with all the fighting going on. Nothing like the end of the world to bring people together. Vegeta had blasted off after Trunks's ship had vanished; Bulma and her mother took the baby shopping now that the stores were back open and Dr. Briefs went to his office to work on something that didn't involve saving the world.

"What do you want, Vegeta?" Dr. Briefs said. There was a little hostility in his voice, which was not surprising considering his daughter had spent quite a lot of the last two years unhappy and most of it was this man's fault.

"I want to leave," Vegeta said.

"Leave? Capsule Corporation? What's stopping you?"

"I want to leave Earth. . .permanently,"

"I see," Dr. Briefs said. "Have you talked to Bulma about this?"

"Whatever for?"

Whatever indeed? Dr. Briefs thought about mentioning the fact that he had a child here and therefore some responsibility, but decided against it. All things considered, it would be better for everyone if Vegeta left the Earth. Bulma would mope around a bit and his wife would no doubt go into a decline without someone to cook for, but in the end everyone would be happier. It was clear that as far as Vegeta was concerned, Bulma and his child were non-factors in his decisions. Bulma had suffered enough because of this alien. She would be able to re-build her life once he was gone. Giving Vegeta a capsule was getting off cheap.

"I can have Capsule Four ready in forty-eight hours. I suppose you'll need supplies?"

"Yes."

"And you'll be gone permanently?" Dr. Briefs asked.

Vegeta did not misunderstand. "I will leave and not return."

"Excellent. Everything will be ready Friday morning." Dr. Briefs turned his attention back to his work, but after a moment he realized that Vegeta was still standing there.

"Was there something else?" he asked.

"I am making my departure as low key as possible," Vegeta said. "Would you tell Bulma I said 'goodbye'?"

What a chickenshit, Dr. Briefs thought. I don't see what my daughter ever saw in you.

"Tell her yourself," he said and turned away. This time, when he looked back up, Vegeta was gone.

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Notes for revised version: I didn't address the Vegeta/Mirai Trunks issue in the original because, honestly, I didn't know how. Then recently this conversation started coming to me and I thought I would insert it here. There also a very small addition to chapter eleven from Vegeta's POV. Thanks for reading! And thanks to Ember who found as many mistakes in this small addition as she usually finds in a complete chapter. What would I do without you? *hugs*

ORIGINAL NOTES: A very huge "THANKYOU" to all who have reviewed. It means so much to hear that you like the story. Domo Arigato! Merci beaucoup! Danke! Gracias! Spasiba!

Again, I know I played a little with the story. The discovery of Krillen's crush on Eighteen gets revealed at Kami's. I just couldn't resist using it here. I guess I'm writing an AU after all, ne? ^_~

And everyone get EMBER a huge round of applause! If I look good, it's because she's fixed all my mistakes.