Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Coping: A Brief Story ❯ Part I ( Chapter 1 )

Coping: A Brief Story

Part I

Earth's warriors heaved a sigh of relief when the last vestige of the Yerda's ki faded to nothing. Yerda was dead. It had been an alien being whose soul purpose was to jaunt from planet to planet feeding on the downtrodden. They were people who were often looked over for not being old enough to present an opinion that an adult would take into consideration. Yerda fed on teenage angst. And this time he found an abundance of angst in the midst of the Z-warriors own offspring. The Yerda posed as one their friends offering its advice while it slyly began draining the person of their energy.

Trunks was the first one to come into formal contact with the Yerda. He also was the one who after several arguments with his sister, mother, father and best friend figured out that the Yerda had to be responsible for his and his friends uncustomary actions against their loved ones. He'd tried to send the Yerda away; however the being was tenacious and finally decided it was through playing with Trunks and he attacked back causing the extreme damage to the demi-saiyan and alerting the others to his volatile nature.

The next generation warriors had tried to fight Yerda themselves since they had fed it with their feelings of inadequacy and depression, but because those feelings they offered up to him were so strong, he proved a worthy adversary. The young generation ultimately decided to call upon their prospective parents for help in defeating a creature they had empowered.

Their parents had been furious with them, especially Vegeta who knew of the Yerda's existence from his travels through the universe. He knew that the Yerda could only become powerful if they fed on those feelings of angst and drama. He was displeased with Trunks and Bra. He thought he raised his offspring without any feelings of inferiority, but then he blamed their human blood on diluting that of a Saiyajin.

The battle was long and hard as the Yerda had developed a few tricks that he had learned from feasting on the emotions of his "friends." It battled with the cunning of a Saiyan and had the strength of a mystic Saiyan, while having a stoic calm of an android but the body of a humanoid.

And it died smiling at Trunks.

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"Trunks-kun," called Goten as he dropped down beside his friend. "What did Yerda mean when he said: 'I'll at least make your wish come true?'"

Trunks turned away from where his sister was cooing over his small ki burn on his jacket. He shrugged at Goten. "I don't know. Yerda always said some confusing things. What makes this time any different."

Goten began rubbing the back of his head. "I don't know Trunks-kun, don't you think what he said was kind of weird for someone who was dying?"

Trunks let out a growl. "Look Goten, I don't know what Yerda meant by his last statement." He face was set in a scowl that mimicked his father's. "Dying people say weird shit all the time. What am I supposed to be, some last words interpreter?" He stomped off to face the other direction away from Goten's probing eyes and endless questions.

Goten backed up stunned. He hadn't expected such an extreme reaction from out of his best friend. He was always asking questions, but Trunks never swore at him like now. He glanced around seeing the questioning expressions on the other's faces. He blushed and shrugged.

Bulma glanced at the taunt back of her eldest child and sighed. He was such a precocious little boy, but now he was an angst driven teenager lashing out at everyone and everything. She hoped he would exit this new phase in his life quickly as it came upon him. Bulma looked back at Vegeta watching as he examined three long slash marks across his forearm that he got in the battle. "Vegeta come over here and let me look at those things."

"Why?" smirked Vegeta, as he turned his mocking smile toward his mate. "They are already ugly without you looking at them."

Bulma huffed placing her hands on her hips. "Get over here, so I can look at those cuts. They look pretty deep."

Vegeta waited a moment clashing wills with his mate over his injury. He would like nothing better than to turn his nose up at her and ministrations. However, now that the fight was over his rush of adrenaline had ceased and the gashes throbbed incessantly. "Very well, woman you may look at my impairment, if only to give my ears a rest from your harping."

Bulma took Vegeta's arm into hers, muttering underneath her breath. "You'd think after all these years together you would learn my name is not 'woman' but Bulma." She moved his arm gently as she tried to receive better lighting to study his wound. "Vegeta, this looks bad. We need to get home immediately and have this treated against infection." Bulma dug in her pocket for her capsules. After locating the one she wanted, Bulma pressed the button and threw it. Popping out of the capsule was a medium size Capsule Corporation plane. "Bra, Trunks," she called to her children. "We're going home. Your father needs to have his wounds treated."

Trunks turned away from the dying sunset to bump into his younger sister. He growled at her. "What are you doing behind me?"

"Wondering why Yerda took your brain," the blue-hair miniature of their mother answered back promptly. "You didn't have to be so rude to Goten-san. Yerda manipulated us all. Not just you."

Trunks glared at his sister pushing her out of the way to move toward the plane. He glanced up at his father, who saw him push his sister and blushed. He knew his father didn't like the fact that he shoved his sister around. He never understood the reason why his father showed more emotion to his sister than himself. He often wondered if it was because she was girl or because she was a carbon copy of their mother, whom his father was fiercely protective. Trunks pressed his hands deeper into his pockets as he skirted by his father and into the aircraft.

When all members of her family were seated comfortably inside the plane Bulma waved to her friends as she shouted a good night. Pulling back a lever to power the thrusters, she put the plane into overdrive, while agilely plotting her coordinates to their house.

Trunks leaned back in his seat closing his eyes thinking back to the final moments when Yerda had been defeated. He had regarded him out of shocked gray eyes as his life force was dropping quickly. Then he let out a sickly grin as he whispered: "I'll at least make your wish come true, Trunks-san." What had Yerda meant by that? What was the wish Yerda was referring to?

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

Trunks pushed open the door for his sister and mother waiting for them to enter the house before him to make-up for being a jerk in the field and on the way home. He gave his sister a tentative grin as she passed. "Sorry," he muttered as she glared back at him. "I'm just having a bad couple of days."

Bra looked at her brother with concerned blue-eyes. "That makes no excuse to take out your anger on everybody. We all believed Yerda was a good friend, especially the way he listened to all our feelings." She wrapped her arms around her brother as he snorted. "He became the best friend each of us wanted. And he became our worst enemy, too. We all made Yerda strong, not just you." She kissed on the cheek. "So, stop brooding. That's Papa's territory."

Trunks smirked at her quip. "Go in and go to bed squirt. We still have school tomorrow."

Bra stomped off muttering about Earth's greatest warriors still having to attend school. "What's the point of having phenomenal power if you still have to sit through boring math classes."

Trunks glanced back as his mother made her way into the house followed by his father. Both of their gaits were slow and steady. His father's more so than usual. He said sorry to his mother as she moved to pass him.

Bulma halted in front of her son. She'd seen his reconciliation with his sister and she was optimistic that his period of self-loathing would pass. She cupped her son's cheek. "We all make bad mistakes Trunks, sometimes we know immediately and sometimes it takes a while before we realize what a kind of mistake we made. However, your friendship with Yerda was not a mistake. It was Yerda's mistake for deciding to use you and the other's to gain immense power and world domination."

Trunks put his hand over his mother's holding it to his cheek for moment. "Thanks Mom. I just feel like the others would not have felt betrayed if I hadn't decided to introduce Yerda to all of them. Yerda knows so much about us Mom. He found out some our deepest secrets. You should have seen their faces when I told them that Yerda was planning to betray us. I felt like I let them down."

Bulma smiled. She watched as confusion crossed over his face at her enigmatic smile. "Dead men tell no tales, Trunks. I learned that at a very young age." She removed her hand walking away.

Trunks grinned as his mother moved into the house. He watched as his father came up shaking his head.

Vegeta eyed his mate as she walked up the stairs. "That woman is scary at some times." Vegeta glanced back to his son. Their eyes met black to blue each probing the other's depth. "Fine," said the Saiyajin prince as he turned away from his first-born.

Trunks saw the three long stripes of torn flesh on his father's forelimb and sucked in a breath. "Sorry."

Vegeta look back at his son and down at his arm. "We're going to have to work on your defense more. You must always be aware of an enemy's position."

Trunks nodded watching his father stroll up the stairs. Closing the door, Trunks tried to block out the gray eyes that watched him even in death.

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

Bulma sat on the bed clothed in her purple nightgown holding the first aid kit on her lap as she waited patiently for Vegeta to finish with his shower. She was worried; his wounds look deep and she wasn't sure that her first aid kit was adequate to attend to his wounds. But she knew her stubborn prince would protest most vehemently if she even suggested a sojourn to the hospital.

Vegeta opened the bathroom door a towel wrapped around his waist his breathing erratic. He knew the distance from the bathroom to the bed was but a few steps, but to him it seemed to be several yards. His entire body was burning and he was in pain. His brief shower had nearly killed him.

Bulma regarded Vegeta with concern in her eyes as he grasped the doorframe to the bathroom. "Vegeta you're still wet."

Vegeta glanced up from the plush dark blue carpet to glare at his mate. "How astute of you. I can see why everyone calls you a genius."

"Bastard," murmured Bulma as she left the bed to stand opposite him. "Are you in pain?" She didn't like his color. His olive skin was looking pale and drawn. "Let me help you to the bed."

"My arm is causing me a brief discomfort," replied Vegeta as he took a step forward. The bedroom began to swim and sway with every step. He shook is head to clear his myopic vision. This was going to be more difficult than he planned, but his pride refused to accept help from his mate.

Her hands clinched in her lap Bulma waited for Vegeta slowly make his way to the bed. She wanted to help him to the bed, but she knew his pride would not allow it, although they were alone in their bedroom.

Vegeta gingerly sat down on the bed before he collapsed, as he wanted to do. "Like I said woman a slight discomfort." He watched as she stalked around the bed pulling his towel off his battered body. She vigorously rubbed his body and hair dry. Vegeta smiled glancing down at her. "I knew you would make an excellent servant and you pretended like you didn't know how."

Bulma fought back the smile that was trying to work its way onto her lips. It was just like Vegeta to say something incredibly arrogant to make her smile, when she was angry with him. "I'm not your servant. I just don't want you to get the bed wet." She picked up the first aid kit she tossed on the bed. "Let me look at your arm."

Vegeta allowed her to inspect his wound. She sighed; pulling out the antiseptic spray, she began spraying the angry red marks on his arm. Bulma blew on the wounds as she sprayed; she knew the antibacterial spray burned. Bulma looked up at Vegeta's stoic face but it was impassive as always. "Just a little more Vegeta and it will be finished."

Vegeta grunted in reply.

Bulma searched in the white box for the antibacterial cream and sterile gauze. Finding the tube, she quickly unscrewed the top; squirting a generous amount of the cream on her hand, she began smearing it on his wounds. She wrapped the gauze around his arm, glad to be finished with the job. "Finish," she said quietly.

Vegeta looked down on the expertly wrapped bandage. He smirked at her. "I told you it was nothing. I'm already feeling better. Your ministrations prove more valuable than those charlatans you would have insisted I allow to tend my wounds."

Bulma put the kit way in a draw. She turned back shaking her head at his words. She searched his face and happy to see that he did look better, more color had flowed into his face. He didn't look a hundred percent, but it was a vast improvement over his pallor when he appeared at the bathroom door. Bulma got into bed sliding next to Vegeta. "If you're not better in the morning, we go to the doctor. No objections."

Vegeta agreed settling his body next to Bulma's allowing his mind to clear and sink into a restful and hopefully regenerative sleep.

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

Bulma awoke suddenly, she felt as if she was being burned alive. Her body was on fire and someone was moaning. Was it her? She groggily glanced around to see where the abundance of heat was permeating from and onto her. Seeing nothing but Vegeta's arm draped across her stomach, she tried to push if off her body. But it wouldn't budge and it was hot to the touch. "Vegeta," she hissed. "Move your arm. I can't breathe."

Vegeta whimpered in response to her shoving of his appendage.

Sucking in a breath Bulma rolled quickly from underneath his arm. "Vegeta," she whispered again. Bulma sat up when she didn't receive an answer to her cry. Her mate was a light sleeper and for him not to wake at her touch or call had her worried. Reaching over Bulma snapped on a light. "Vegeta!" she cried as noticed he retracted his body into a fetal position and his color was even paler than before. She leaned over to touch his brow and brought her hand back with a gasp. His body felt like molten lava.

Vegeta let out another whimper. He hurt all over. He could hear Bulma calling to him, but he could not get to her. It hurt too much to move. The Saiyajin prince let out another moan.

Bulma jumped up from the bed running to the door. Slamming it open, she let out a blood-curdling scream. "TRUNKS!!" Leaving the door open, she moved to her dresser pulling out the first pair of pants she came across. Slipping them on she went in search of shoes and capsules.

Trunks ran into his parents' room looking around for the danger, but only found his mother was searching under the bed for something and his dad was curled up like a baby on the bed. This image was wrong! He searched out his father's ki and felt an extremely weak signature. "Papa?" he cried.

Bulma slide from under the bed with her other slipper to see her son with a confused and worried expression. "He's hot Trunks and he won't wake up." Tears were sliding down her face. "I knew I should have taken him to the hospital when he couldn't walk from the bathroom to the bed earlier." She pulled her shoe on, "Where did I put that capsule?"

Trunks sauntered over to the bed, placing gentle hands on his father's brow. He felt the intense heat that was worrying his mother. "Papa?" he called his voice choked with tears.

No answer.

Trunks glanced back to the door when he felt his sister and grandparents ki approaching. He saw his sister's concern, as she looked to the bed and his mother crying as she searched for the capsule she held in her hand. Trunks squared his shoulders preparing to take charge of the situation. "Papa's sick. We're going to take him to the hospital." Trunks turned back to his mother. "The capsule is in your hand, Mama."

Bulma opened her hand revealing the capsule she had been searching for, putting a hand up to her face she wiped the wetness from her face. "Bra stay here with your grandparents and Trunks and I will contact you from the hospital with news of your father." She turned to her son who was gazing at his father with a forlorn look on his face. "Trunks wrap your father up in that blanket and follow me."

"We'll wait for your call Bulma-chan," said her mother. "You make sure the hospital gets Vegeta-chan better." Teddi Brief leaned into her husband's arms as her grandson passed her carrying his father. Poor, Vegeta she thought I hope he gets better. She pulled her granddaughter to her as her small body was racked with sobs.

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

Trunks paced the waiting room as his mother sat nursing her cold coffee. They both waited for news of Vegeta. Upon entering the hospital, Dr. Tao, who had been called from the capsule airplane, had a stretcher waiting for them. Trunks had deposited his ailing father onto the bed and watched as the doctor wheeled his father away behind doors marked "Emergency."

"What's taking so damn long," the purple-hair boy yelled punching his hand with his fist.

Bulma looked up from her coffee, her body felt numb. "Don't swear, Trunks. You know I don't condone that kind of language coming from you."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" asked Trunks stopping his pacing. "They are taking too long in there. I wish Goten was here, I need someone to punch."

Bulma smiled. "You know those were the exact same words your father said when you were born in this very hospital."

Trunks raised his eyebrows. "It is?"

Bulma patted the seat next to her. Trunks sat down. "When I was pregnant with you, Dr. Tao was late to the hospital. And I kept crying out in pain with the contractions." She winked at her son. "You were easy to carry, but you were hell giving birth to. As a matter of fact you still give me hell."

Trunks blushed and grinned. "Thanks, Mom. I feel so loved."

Bulma laughed. "Your father kept pacing the room, waiting for the doctor to arrive. I told him to calm down and stop swearing at the nurses. That's when he looked over at me and said he wished Son-kun was present so he could take him out into the parking lot to beat the shit out of."

"That sounds like Papa," laughed Trunks.

The door to the waiting room opened revealing Dr. Tao in his blood-splattered scrubs. "Ms. Brief and Mr. Trunks. Could I speak with you over here for a moment?"

Bulma clutched Trunks hand as they stood up and moved toward the doctor. He was wearing a grim expression that did not speak of good news. She didn't want any bad news. She didn't even want to him to appear to her with a blood-speckled uniform. She sent up a silent prayer to Dende.

Dr. Tao drew in a cleansing breath watching as the young teen he delivered several years ago approached with a scowl similar to his father's deadly expression. The expression told him to expect quick and painful retribution if he doled out any news that did not fall in the "good" category. "Ms. Brief, I'm happy to inform you that Mr. Vegeta is out of surgery. His wounds were infected and I had to drain them. Since, I'm not sure of his regular body temperature I'm guessing he had to be slightly warm, but not blazing hot. This is a small fever and we've got him hooked up to an antibiotic drip to help disperse the fever from his body. He is conscious right now, but I don't want you to stay too long and tire him out. The best thing for him is to have a restful sleep. We expect him to make a full recovery."

Bulma and Trunks let out a sigh of relief. "Can we both go see him?" asked Bulma.

"Yes," replied Tao as he snagged a passing nurse. "But not for too long." He turned to the nurse. "Take Ms. Brief and her son to Mr. Vegeta's private recovery room in 206."

The nurse nodded. "Please follow me."

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

Nothing could have prepared them for the sight that welcomed them. Vegeta lay on the hospital bed, tangled in a maze of wires and tubes attached to numerous beeping and breathing machines. Bulma left her son's side moving forward to sit down in a chair next to his bed. She grasped his hand tightly taking care not to dislodge the IV taped to the back of his hand. Tears streamed down her face as she noticed the small, thin tube running under his nostril and around the backs of his ears, electrodes taped over his face, shoulders and upper chest, and some on his arms. There was an IV in each hand, leading up to two bags hanging from a stand above the bed. "Vegeta," she called softly.

Vegeta's eyes rolled underneath his shut lids before he opened them. His black orbs surveyed the scene around him, his mate was holding his hand, while his son standing watch over his reclined body, tears were also streaming down his face. "Stop crying," he rasped out finally. "You both are getting me wet. I've had my bath for the day, thank you." He bit back a silent groan. "And who told you to sneak me off to a hospital when I was asleep."

"You bastard," replied Bulma on a half laugh and cry. She laid her head down on his hand crying softly. "You..."she left her words hanging in the air. "You're lucky, Vegeta, you're going to make a full recovery."

Vegeta bit back a moan as she grasped his hand a little too hard. "Of course I am. Did you think I would allow a lowly infection to lay me low? Humph. I still have to make Kakkarot bow at my feet and acknowledge my superiority before I kill him."

Trunks watched his father's black eyes, seeing the pain glazed in his eyes. "Don't forget, Papa. You still have to help me work on my defenses."

Vegeta nodded his eyelids felt heavy. "Brat take your mother home and get some rest. She looks even uglier than usual." The Saiyajin prince drifted back into his dark abyss.

Bulma stood up leaning over she placed a kiss on his lips and cheeks. She stood back watching his face for any sign of pain. He looked so peaceful and young while he slept. She loathed leaving him for the night, but she promised Bra and her parents an update on Vegeta's condition. He was going to make a complete recovery. And when he did, he was going to receive the ear screeching of his life.

Trunks wiped his tears away. "Come on Mama. Let's get home. We'll come back tomorrow."

Bulma let go of Vegeta's hand. "Good night, Vegeta."

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

"Vegeta...Vegeta," called a soft voice, pulling the slumbering prince away from oblivion. "Wake-up, Prince Vegeta."

Vegeta gradually opened his eyes to see a warm fuzzy light extended over his hospital bed. He blinked to clear his onyx eyes from any lingering vestige of his medicine-induced repose. "Who's there?"

The bright light if possible shone even brighter at the Prince's acknowledgment of its presence. Soon the ethereal light began to take on shape and form, revealing two regal Saiyajins dressed in royal garments. It was King Vegeta and Queen Legumes. His mother and father.

"Otousama and Okasama," cried Vegeta slightly confused and surprised at seeing them materialize over him. He continued to gawk at the two apparitions, while his mouth resumed its natural moist state. "Why are you here? How come I can see you?"

Queen Legumes glided from the nook of her mate's arm smiling at her son. "It has been a long time Prince Vegeta, since our separation, but I've come to bring you home."

Vegeta chuckled with weak laughter. Glad that the pain in his body had been numbed enough not to feel the small sensations. "Home? I have no home. Frieza destroyed my home. Now, I'm just a shell of a Saiyajin living on Earth." He glared at the spirit that dared take his mother's likeness. "Now go from whence you've came vile demon. I'll not yield to you tonight. You've had your fun."

"I'm no demon, Prince Vegeta," the queen scolded sternly. "I am your mother and you'll not speak to me any other way." Legumes sighed as looked at all the tubes and monitors her son was hooked up to. He is so stubborn. Just like his father. She smiled at that thought. "Prince Vegeta, son, you've had a long journey and I've come to take you home."

"Really," asked Vegeta as he took short painful breaths through the oxygen mask on his face. "Home." Vegetasei. The only real home known to him and the only placed it existed anymore was in his head, in his dreams. The young prince shifted his coal eyes over to form that resembled his father. "I can't go home Otousama. I failed you and the Saiyajin race." He drew in a ragged breath coughing as pain racked his every pour. "I wasn't the one to seek revenge for our annihilation at the hands of Frieza. An Earth raised Saiyajin, who refuses all connections to our home world defeated Frieza. A third class Saiyan succeeds, while the mightiest son failed." Tears began to slide out the corner of his eyes. "I failed you Otousama. I couldn't even defeat the third class to regain back what vengeance I could. I am nothing."

King Vegeta frowned at his son, his dark eyes following the path of the tears that his son wept so freely. "You've not disappointed me Vegeta. I'm very proud to call you son." The king crossed his arms over his chest taking up stance very much like the one his son was known to use on Earth. "I am very proud of you son."

Vegeta laughed as the burning discomfort increased throughout his body. He tried to hold back his tears, but he was too exhausted to control even the most basic function. He shut his eyes hoping that the tears would cease their flowing, but in closing his eyes he saw his own mocking shadow reminding him of how weak he'd become since his settlement on Earth. "Proud...Otousama? How can you be proud of me? I have the blood of the Legendary coursing through my veins, yet a third class idiot achieved the power of a Super Saiyajin before I could. I've even lowered myself so far as to take a human mate and taint my royal blood by producing offspring with her. I've..."

"Prince Vegeta," interrupted the solemn king, he watched as his own cub opened his eyes to glare at him. The king positioned his arms akimbo as he placed a matching glare and scowl on his face. "You've done enough, brat. To me you are a great warrior. You have far surpassed my expectations of you. All that you have had to endure it warms my warrior's heart that you held your head high and kept your pride like a prince should." King Vegeta held up a hand further stopping any rebuttal his son would offer him at that point. "If there is someone who should be ashamed here, it is I. I should be the one who should wear the yolk of ignominy. As it was I who was too weak to fight Frieza when he demanded you and when I finally gathered my faculties the damage had been done and my heroics for naught. I doomed Vegetasei and Saiyajins alike out of existence. You my son have spilled your own blood redeeming our race. So, I can say I'm proud. And I am."

The queen nodded her head at her mate's eloquent speech. "You've made us all proud, son of Vegetasei. Very proud." The queen moved back to her mate's side as the hot light began to expand in width. "Listen."

"Vegeta-sama...Vegeta-sama...Vegeta-sama..." the whispers started out low monotone voice, before the hospitalized prince realized that they were several voices chanting his name. "Vegeta-sama...Vegeta-sama...Vegeta-sama!" Finally the voices took shape allowing Vegeta to view a barrage of Saiyajins kneeled behind his mother and father in typical salute, a fist placed over the heart. In forefront of those using his name as a mantra, Vegeta was able to discern the faces of his own Royal Guardsmen including Nappa. The aforementioned soldier lifted his head for a moment nodding to Vegeta before quickly lowering his balding head.

"See, Prince Vegeta," whispered Legumes with tears sparkling in her eyes. "They are all waiting for you. I'm waiting for you." She clinched her mate's hand in hers.

King Vegeta cleared his throat as squeezed back his queen's small hand. "Are you coming Prince Vegeta?" He jerked his head indicating the rows of Saiyajins lined behind him. "They need a strong Prince to guide them and I could use a strong right hand to lead us to victory."

The ethereal light surrounding his parents and kindred began to fade, pulling them into a void beyond Vegeta's influence. Vegeta raised his heavy-laden arms out to the light. In his mind's eye, he was the little boy who was suddenly thrust from his family's warm embrace into the cruel world of Frieza. "Please don't go. Don't leave me again. Otousama. Okasama. I don't want to be alone anymore." He stretched his hand further until his felt the brush of his father's fingertips on his hand. Using his last bit of strength, Vegeta pushed his hand once more until he felt it being clasped into thick meaty hand of his father.

Vegeta felt his body being pulled into the light where shimmering warmth spread over his body covering him of clothes of his home world. The feeling was warm, radiant, and familiar.

In the hospital, the mortal form of Prince Vegeta released a long, slow, agonizing breath relinquishing his hold on his mortal body. In the background, a machine stopped breathing and monitor stopped beeping, as Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyajins...finally returned home.

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End Chapter 1. [04/07/02] and Finished [04/12/02]. I'm sorry this started out so slow; I tried to make it less tiresome. Sorry if I failed. Yeah, this is a death fic. I'm trying to make this no more than three chapters. Send all questions, comments, critiques, and flames to me at pmchivas@hotmail.com. Dark Shadow Princess.

Straightjacket Musings:

This story is dedicated to SLH, who I've bothered several times about plot devices and possible story lines. Here's to many, many, many, more conspiracies.

Why kill Vegeta? Why not?

I tried to explain about the Yerda some, but I don't think it worked out the way I wanted. So, I'm going to go back and re-explain what Yerda is in the upcoming chapters. Maybe through a flashback. I like flashbacks.

Once again, I made Bra and Trunks ages closer together. You want to know why? Because I could! Plus, it sucks to grow up with a sibling with such a large age difference between the two of you.