Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Don't Ever Let Go ❯ Chapter 9 ( Chapter 9 )

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or any of its characters.

 

Chapter 9

 

Vegeta

 

Glancing across the lake in front of me towards the horizon, I watch as the sun makes its final descent, dipping past the horizon and disappearing from view, leaving a few streaks of red and orange that reflect lazily off of the few clouds slipping across the darkening sky. Standing up from my seated position near the shore of the placid body of water, my eyes skim across the small shape of my son who is curled into a small ball, snuggled deep inside a cocoon of grass and leaves he made for himself when he tired of playing in the tepid water. His diminutive chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm as he sleeps soundly, the stress of the day along with his antics in the lake tiring him out well before he would normally be sleeping. Watching him, resentment lodges inside my throat. He is so…so peaceful and trusting, something I never was once I reached his age. Something that I still am not and probably will never be. Once again, I wonder…what would my life have been like had I never met Freeza? Somehow, I doubt that I would be as implicitly trusting and naïve as my son is, but I wonder if perhaps my harshness and my fear of allowing others to truly understand the man that I have become, would those things have been lessened? I don't know the answer to that and perhaps I never will. Shrugging my shoulders slightly, I push those ideas away and step towards the sleeping form of my son.

 

Nudging his small back with my foot, I'm careful not to disturb the nest he's made for himself, lest he wake up and start to promptly throw a fuss. It had taken him the better part of an hour to construct the stupid thing and knowing my brat, his illogical mind would be greatly disturbed if his careful yet pointless creation was accidentally ruined. In a few seconds, his large eyes slowly blink open and I observe him as he sits up, rubbing his face with his hands as he tries to bring his mind back to conscious awareness.

 

Standing up sluggishly, he glances over at me and then waits for instructions. Backing away from him, I walk over to a nearby tree and the clothing he had been wearing before his jaunt into the lake. Giving them to him, he slowly puts them on, yawning repeatedly while trying to push his small frame completely back into a fully awakened state. I can tell it's a losing battle and before I realize what I'm doing, I lean over and scoop him up into my arms once he is fully clothed. Within a millisecond, his arms are wrapped around my neck and his legs are securely wound around my waist. Without saying a word to me, he places his face against my shoulder and his body relaxes, telling me that he has once again found his way back to a world of dreams.

 

I'm still unused to this…this complete and total dependence he has on me, how easily he has transitioned from fear and uncertainty to trust once I finally began to show an honest interest him without having any strings attached regarding my assumptions of how he should behave. How he should act as a Saiya-jin Prince. Shaking my head slightly, I wrap my own arms protectively around his small body and then take off into the sky, this time headed back towards Capsule Corporation without any hesitancy on my part.

 

I know what I need to do, though it is making my insides burn with a feeling that I can only peg as nervousness and uncertainty. Yet I am tied to this course. I cannot stray from this path no matter how uncomfortable it is going to be for me, a person who has never once opened up to another except in the few rare instances when my mental controls where breached due to mitigating circumstances. I have never willingly acknowledged things about myself to another, but…it has to be done. And not only for my sake, to bring my world back to a sense of normalcy that has been missing for so long, but for my son as well. I cannot make any mistakes with this. Although he might never know how I really feel about him, in the past few weeks, I have realized that I can no longer ignore the fact that I have a family and that I care for them more deeply then I ever realized. That because of this caring, their rejection hurt more then I ever fathomed it would. I have to fix this, even when doing so pushes against my pride and my private vows to never allow myself to become emotionally attached to anyone after the rejection of my own father. But it is far too late for that and has been for a very long time.

 

Sweeping through the sky, I think upon my resolution. While Trunks played in the lake and then fell asleep near the shoreline, I used that time to think of a way to push Bulma out of her self-destructive attitude, knowing full well that whatever I say to her, she will most likely have a counter argument using my own past behavior as an excuse for hers. And in reality, she does have that right. The more I thought about it, the more hopeless I started to feel until I had an epiphany of sorts. There would be no reason whatsoever for her to trust my entreaties or me. Until my confrontation with Piccolo, I have rarely, if ever, done anything for reasons that had nothing to do with my position or myself. And even in this case, there is some motivation on my part to fix the problems we have been having because it will make my life easier and less burdensome. But truthfully, my desire to push her back has more to do with Trunks then anything else. After today, I finally have come to a realization how much her behavior has affected him more then anyone else. I can survive without affection since I have done so for most of my entire life. But he cannot and I will not have him become what I have become, even if on the outside, he appears to be less Saiya-jin and more human. Having feelings for others is what gave Kakarrot his strength, no matter how much that still continues to burn my insides. Condoning them and sneering at them was what left me at a disadvantage. I want my son to become strong and if that means having emotional attachments, then so be it.

 

Strengthening my resolve, I increase my speed as I shoot through the sky, my son sleeping contently against my body. Within a few moments, the lights of West City are visible on the horizon and seconds later, the city is beneath me as I wind my way back towards the place where I live. Touching down outside in front of the patio, I carefully swing the French doors open as I step back inside the living room I had exited hours before. Walking out of the room and up the stairs, I open Trunks bedroom door and step inside, careful not to trip over the debris he has a habit of leaving behind him wherever he goes. Leaning over his bed, I deposit him gently and then watch as he instinctively burrows into his covers. I know that under normal circumstances, he would be stripped out of his dirty clothing and clean bedtime garments would be procured for him, but I have neither the time nor the patience to follow through on such a protocol. Backing away, I carefully turn on the nightstand light next to his bed in case he should wake up in the middle of the night and then move the jumbled covers up and over his small frame. For once, my pride isn't nagging at me for doing such a…a motherly activity as tucking in my progeny and making sure that he won't be afraid if he wakes up alone in his darkened bedroom. It feels right and instead of fighting against my instincts as I have the habit of doing when they conflict with my deep sense of propriety, I follow them.

 

I don't know how long I stand and watch his slumbering form before I start to sluggishly push my lethargy away. Perhaps it has been seconds, or perhaps it has been minutes, but whatever the case may be, standing and observing him is not going to lead me any closer towards my goal for the evening. Glancing at the clock next to his bed, I make note of the time, seeing that it is only a little past six in the evening. I know that Trunks will wake up in a few hours, hungry for the supper he didn't receive, but I decide such a thing isn't worth my concern. Instead, it should be focused on Bulma and what sort of reaction I'm liable to receive once I track her down and force myself into her company, something I haven't done since the night I found myself having a conversation with Piccolo in the depths of the desert.

 

Grunting slightly, I close my eyes for a moment and just…just feel the presence around me, the presence that surrounds Capsule Corporation. Slowly, I spread my awareness outward, sensing tentatively for the weak ki that slips here and there throughout the building. If I really wanted to, I could simply push my awareness into the connection I have had with Bulma ever since the time Trunks was conceived. However, such an action on my part would border on a breach of privacy, and for once, I don't want to risk pushing Bulma farther away from me then she already is. Instead, I concentrate on locking onto her weak ki signature, which is not an easy task to accomplish when everyone in the building as a ki level less then five. Bulma's ki, though, is relatively easy to pick up on. Perhaps it is because we are mates or perhaps it is because her growing misery has spread to her ki energy as well. Whatever the reason, in a few seconds, I know without any doubt where she is currently housed within the large framework of Capsule. Opening my eyes, I take in one more glance of my son's sleeping form and then quickly exit the room, making sure the door is closed behind me.

 

Swallowing down some of my apprehension, I tighten my lips and purposefully stride down the hallway in the opposite direction I had come from when I had brought Trunks back up to his room. She has buried herself in the basement, no doubt working deliberately on some project as a way to push her misery away from herself. And she is completely alone, isolated from everyone else in the building. Both her actions and her whereabouts bring back to me thoughts of my own behavior both after Kakarrot died and then when I realized that Bulma was carrying another child within her, this time without telling me the truth, hiding it from me because she was afraid of what I might do. In her quest to separate herself from feeling anything at all, she has taken the habits of mine that she condoned and made them her own. Yet, no matter how she continues to suffer in silence, her actions are not her own, nor do they reflect her true personality. That is what worries me the most. Just as I do not want Trunks to become like me, I do not want Bulma to end up like myself either. It has to stop, one way or the other.

 

Reaching the end of the corridor, I look down at the descending stairs that lead to the bowels of the place where I live. Once again, I feel edgy and uncertain, feelings I have never been comfortable acknowledging or dealing with. Yet, I cannot run away from them or hide behind a mask of indifference. This…this confrontation is something I need to do, and only I can make her understand what she is doing to herself. Only I can…because I know what it is like. I know, and for the sake of those that I care about, I am about to do something that is so against my pride and my honor, that just thinking about it is making my insides quake. I don't want to…but I know that what I am about to do is the only thing that has the chance of bringing Bulma back to the light. It is also the only thing that might be able to push my own demons back into the darkness of my mind, to finally release my own feelings of inadequacy and despair.

 

Forcing myself to take the first step of many, I place my booted foot on the top stair and then begin my descent. Faster then I would have liked, I find myself standing at the bottom of the staircase, looking down a dimly lit corridor that holds both Bulma and Dr. Briefs's private research laboratories. Striding resolutely down the hallway, I swallow down the nagging thoughts I'm having about whether or not this venture of mine will be successful. If I'm putting myself out on the line, only to be rejected and pushed away as has happened many times during my life. I quit making it a habit to expose the inner workings of my mind long ago when all it earned me was pain and suffering. I pray that this time, it will be different.

 

Sooner rather then later, I'm outside of the plain, steel door that connects the outside corridor with the lab that Bulma has taken as her own. The only evidence that alerts me to her presence within is the faint light peeking along the bottom edge of the door and her ki energy that is as muted as she has become these last few months. Firming my resolve, I quickly push the button that operates the door, slightly surprised when it slides open without complaint. Obviously, Bulma was not expecting to have any unwanted visitors bother her during her solitary confinement and she has not taken the precaution of locking the door from the inside. Shrugging my shoulders, I think so much the better for me. The last thing I want is for Bulma to avoid our conversation by occupying her thoughts over a decimated door. Stepping inside quickly, I avoid looking at her surprised face and close the door. Stepping away, I glance over at her and cross my arms, suddenly wondering what I'm going to say to her and how long she is going to sit there before she either screams at me or tries to get up and escape from my presence. However, I'm not going to let her leave. Not until I feel that I have done all I can do.

 

Instead of reacting to my intrusion through verbal barbs, as is her usual habit, her senses seem to come to her and she does what I expect: she stands up and tries to leave. Narrowing my lips, my eyes follow her movements as she pushes her papers into her desk and turns off the computer she was typing at until the second I opened the door to her private sanctuary and stepped inside. I can sense many things about her as she nonchalantly tidies up her unusually clean workspace. She is afraid. She is nervous. And above all, she is trying to contain her overwhelming feelings of despair and depression. It is also obvious that she does not want me to know these things about her and her sudden need for space is a reflection of that. Snapping a file cabinet drawer shut, she straitens herself up and then swiftly approaches me, or rather, the door that leads away from me. Reaching around my body, she aims for the control to the door, but I'm faster then she is. Grabbing her wrist lightly, I pull it away from the door, and set her arm against the side of her body without letting go.

 

I notice as she swallows nervously and then glances up at me with her tired and defeated looking blue eyes.

 

“Please…please Vegeta.”

 

That's all she says. She doesn't yell at me or try to make me feel like scum by accusing me of hurting her, which I have done in the past. But…her tone and demeanor. In a second, I can feel my desire to speak with her starting to flee, this uncomfortable tension between the two of us eating away at me as nothing has ever done in the past. Yet, I know what I have to do and her meek and defeated attitude only begins to firm my attitude that what I am doing is the right thing to do, no matter how much it is going to humiliate and demean me in front of her. I cannot stand seeing her like this. It was her fiery attitude, if anything, that drew me to her in the first place and I want that part of her back. Not this…weak creature standing in front of me.

 

Schooling my facial features into my usual mask, I shake my head slightly and then move forward, pushing her body into a nearby chair. Letting go of her wrist, I back up a few paces and then settle myself in, watching as she mentally calculates how she can escape from me, from the confrontation that she knows is going to happen between the two of us. Not wanting her to get any foolish notions in her mind, I clear my throat and let some of the things I have been thinking about spill forth.

 

“Woman…trying to escape from the realities of the past, it is a futile battle. Trying to bury yourself in a pile of external assignments so that you don't have to feel is foolishness. And trying to extradite yourself from the remorse that you feel by pushing away others who are concerned about your welfare is not going to help you to recover from your loss. If anything, these things are going to only make you feel that much worse over something you had no control over.”

 

She stares at me, incredulous that I, the epitome of hiding and avoiding expressing any sort of feeling or emotional attachment, am giving her advice dealing with those very things. Yet everything I just uttered to her is completely true, and it has only been through this wretched experience of having Bulma close herself off from me and the rest of her family that I have also come to realize those very things myself. However, it doesn't take long before her look of disbelief is replaced by one of anger, anger I know that I am somewhat deserving of.

 

“Whatever Vegeta. I don't know why you decided to come down here, but what you just told me is nothing but a load of shit from the one person I know who has never had any desire to move on from his past, let alone accept the forgiveness of others. I…I do not have to listen to this.”

 

With that said, I gaze at her as she pushes herself out of the chair I seated her in and makes her way once again towards the door. This time, I do nothing to stop her, but before she reaches her destination, I speak up.

 

“You are correct, Woman. I have never desired to move away from the sins of the past. But not because of the reasons you believe. There are…there are many things that you do not know about me because my pride would not allow me to…to share them with you. You, who know me better then most, should realize this. But…I have been unfair to you. The truth is Woman, I cannot allow you to continue doing this to yourself. I have been down this path and believe me when I say that you do not want to continue along it. You are not me and you should not have to…to continue to grieve over something that you could not stop.”

 

Slowly, she stops near the door and turns around, looking at me with surprise in her eyes, not doubt over the fact of how much those statements revealed about myself and my concern for her. In the entire time we have been together, I have never once opened up to her in this manner except after Kakarrot allowed himself to be killed by Cell. Nervously, she pushes a piece of her aqua hair behind her ear and then opens her mouth to speak.

 

“Why are you here Vegeta? What…what do you want?”

 

That is all I need. Stepping closer towards her, I close the gap between us and reach towards her body. Grasping her chin with my hand, I gently tilt it upwards slightly so that she is looking into my eyes. For once, I let her see what is really behind the mask I hide behind: my concern for her, my concern for Trunks, and the need for her to…to accept herself and to accept me as I am. None of this is easy for me. Fuck, it's probably the most difficult thing I have ever done in my life and I know that as the evening progresses, it will only become that much harder. But it has to be done. If not for me, then for her and for Trunks.

 

“I want you to stop running from this Bulma. And mostly, I want you to forgive yourself. I want…I need you to come back to yourself. Please.”

 

Bulma

 

Blinking into his dark, endless eyes, for once I know that everything he is telling me is the truth. He is laying his soul out for me to see and I know intimately just how difficult this must be for Vegeta. However, it isn't that simple. If it were, would I still be recovering from the aftershocks of losing Toma months after it happened? The answer to that question is no. So I ask myself, why is he doing this? What is his real motive? And can I trust him not to scoff at me if finally tell him of all people exactly how I feel about what happened when Toma died? How responsible and guilty I feel over his death? Still…

 

“I want you to stop running from this Bulma. And mostly, I want you to forgive yourself. I want…I need you to come back to yourself. Please.”

 

Snapping back to attention, I'm shocked. Vegeta…he never asks. And he certainly never begs and yet I have a feeling that is exactly what he just did when he spoke those words to me. He needs me to come back to myself? He needs me? Sarcastically, I think back to all the times in the past when I needed him and he just turned his back to me and walked away. Even though I know that it isn't fair of me to think like that, the irrational and depressed part of me doesn't care. I'm suffering and therefore, so should he. However being forced to look into his eyes, I know that he is suffering and I also know that he has been suffering in his own way far longer then I have been. Letting out a sigh, I don't know what to do. I'm tired of feeling depressed all of the time and I'm tired of running from everyone, but I just don't know what to do anymore. Certainly, the rational part of me knows that at the very least, I should be seeking out a counselor for help, but I have become accustomed to using my feelings of guilt over my miscarriage as a sort of penance for my pride. Yet once again, my pride is what has led me to this awful pseudo life that I have been living. And for Vegeta to have to come down here and beg for me to return to the way I once was, I understand for the first time how much my behavior has been affecting everyone around me. Even someone as cold and emotionless as Vegeta.

 

Backing away from him, I nervously clasp my hands in front of me and wait for his next move. Yet all he does is stare at me with his deep and endless eyes. I am aware of my anxiety level starting to rise and my breathing starts to increase accordingly. Before I know it, I'm taking in short, gasping pants of air as I try to fight for control over a losing battle with a panic attack that's about to happen at any second. I can't deal with this…with him. Turning around quickly, I make a beeline for the door, only to be stopped by the solid and warm form of my husband. Before I can say anything to him, he lifts me up into his arms and wraps me up close to his chest. Blinking in confusion, before I know it, we are no longer in the lab. Instead, we are in my bedroom and I'm suddenly lying in the middle of my bed staring at the ceiling.

 

Was I dreaming that entire scenario, my depraved mind making up something as ludicrous as Vegeta coming down to coerce me into getting help? Regaining a sense of calm as my panic attack recedes, I realize when the bed shifts slightly that I wasn't imagining anything at all. Sitting up quickly, I look at the end of the bed only to see Vegeta sitting at edge, his hands tightly gripping his knees as he looks towards the wall opposite of him.

 

“Woman, I understand what you are going through. And I know that…that you have to want to recover from this before you can improve.”

 

Pushing my way backwards so that my body is propped up against the headboard of my bed, it's all I can do not to laugh. He knows what I'm going through? He has never carried a child inside of his body. He has never felt that sort of connection a mother feels for their unborn baby. And he certainly has never had it ripped out of him before it had a chance to live. I'm about to tell him as much when he cuts me off, turning to look at me out of the corner of his eye.

 

“It is true that I cannot share with you that type of loss. But I do know what it means to lose something important, something precious, perhaps more then you even realize.”

 

Glaring at him, I let out the first words that come to my mind.

 

“Spare me Vegeta. I know that you know loss, having been beaten not once, but twice by Goku and it has affected every decision that you have made since you came to live permanently on Earth. I know that you feel upset about his death only because you don't have the chance to prove yourself against him, to prove that you're the better of the two. Well, that isn't even on the same scale as…as…”

 

Choking back a sob, I wipe away the tears that are forming at the corner of my eyes, glancing over to see what sort of reaction I'm going to get out of Vegeta.

 

“I'm not talking about that. It is true that I have `lost' to Kakarrot more times then I should have and that it damaged my pride. And it is true that his death has aversely affected me for longer then it should have. However, not for the reasons that you just mentioned. But I do know loss. It has been a companion of mine since I was child. Shall I give you a list so that we can compare notes?”

 

Letting out a shaky breath, I try to control my outburst and watch as Vegeta's knuckles start to turn white as his hands grip his knees even tighter, his face blank of all emotions as he once again turns and stares at the wall opposite of him. I have never seen him like this before and I'm wary of what it is he plans on doing. Leaning forward, I have the sudden urge to wrap my arms around him and tell him to stop, the distress obvious in his body as he slowly stiffens before my eyes. It is an instinctual thing, this need to comfort, but it is the first time I've felt compelled to act on it since Toma's death and I wonder what about him has caused me to want to feel that sort of connection. Licking my lips, I can feel myself creeping towards him when his voice suddenly breaks the silence between us and my body freezes where it is.

 

“I lost my innocence against killing others weaker then myself when I was four. I lost my planet and my people when I was five. I lost the respect I held for my father when I was the same age. My…”

 

He stops and I watch as his body trembles, as though he is making himself remember something hideous and repulsive that he has kept hidden away even from himself. Yet, he suddenly seems go gain control and once again, his mouth opens as he shares a litany about himself that I have never once heard in the entire time I have know him.

 

“I lost my ability to trust my own comrades when I was six. I gave up the ability to care and to express myself emotionally out of self-preservation when I was about the same age. I lost respect for myself when I was forced…when I…when I was eight or nine. I can't…can't remember.”

 

Looking at him, I notice that there is moisture building in the corner of his eyes and I realize how much this forced confession is costing Vegeta. And it makes me feel guilty for wanting him to suffer like myself when it is suddenly obvious to me how much Vegeta truly understands about the shit end of life. Putting things into perspective, it makes my own misery seem petty compared to what he must have gone through. Yet even with all of that, it's hard for me to just let go. Still, for once, I can't stand seeing him look like this. True, he took it hard when Goku died, but he has never once tried to share his past with me beyond the obvious, and I don't have the urge to find out what exactly the forces were that shaped Vegeta into the man he is today. Not if it's going to cause him to have an even bigger mental breakdown then what I've been going through lately.

 

“Vegeta…please. You don't have…”

 

Before I can finish my sentence, he turns his face so that we are looking directly at each other, eye to eye. Shocked into silence by the anguish laid out for me to see plainly on his face, I back away, knowing that he is choosing to share all of himself with me because…because by understanding who he truly is, I might be better able to understand myself and why he is afraid that I might end up like him.

 

“You see what I mean about understanding loss Bulma? Anything I have ever had has been taken away from me. You think that you truly know me? You wonder why I've…why I've never shared my entire self with you? Perhaps you think it's because I am a selfish and unemotional man. I do know that you think I am selfish, and I have been in the past and present. I cannot deny those facts. But the truth is this: trusting someone has never been something I had the luxury of having. To bare my soul would mean that I would have to have absolute trust that that person would not betray me. Even now, I don't know if you will take what I tell you and let it become common knowledge among your friends. That is a risk I must take though because I won't…I won't allow you to continue like this, sliding into misery and taking everyone along with you. You don't deserve that and neither does Trunks.”

 

“You already know that I committed acts of genocide on a regular basis since I was child. I started when I was four and until the time I came to Earth after Namek-sei was destroyed, that was my livelihood. As a Saiya-jin elite, such behavior was expected of me. But I did…I did have feelings. I cared for my father up until the moment he betrayed me and sold me to Freeza. Soon after that, I hid whatever softer emotions I had because that was the only way I could survive the brutality of Freeza and his men. I could not be soft.”

 

He suddenly stops and in my head, I don't want him to continue, the pain of his past warring with the pain of my own misery. I watch as he takes a shaky breath and then lets it out slowly, trying to gain control of himself but failing miserably. Still, once again, I find myself with my eyes locked on his and once again, he opens his mouth to continue with his story.

 

“Soft. Ha! Freeza's men considered me a weakling and I was resented because of the obvious preferential treatment I received from that fucking tyrant. Well, the truth was, Freeza…Freeza liked me because I was his own pet monkey on a leash. Even though I plotted for ways to kill him, to get away from him, there was no escape because I wasn't strong enough. But that didn't stop me from trying.”

 

“I deliberately disrespected him and taunted him from the sidelines. I found ways to make his day-to-day life hellish by disrupting the little things that happened on the ship in order to make Freeza's life easier. I know now that I was stupid and foolish in the extreme, but as a child, it was the only way I could gain some sort of control over my life.”

 

“He figured it out eventually, who was playing him for a fool. And if there was ever anything that Freeza despised, it was being mocked by his subordinates. I was…I was eight and he punished me by…”

 

Pausing in his story, Vegeta licks his lips and then turns his face away from mine and I can tell whatever he's going to say is something shameful to him, something humiliating and I don't know if he will be able to bring himself to let it out. Taking another uneven breath, he focuses on his feet before once again continuing on.

 

“Freeza was asexual but many of his closest subordinates were not. I was too young to understand any of this, but Freeza…I have done many horrible deeds in my past, but…not like Freeza. Not to the same extent at any rate, though should I die to day, I know that I won't frolic in the afterlife like fucking Kakarrot. Still…some of his subordinates had an interest in…in boys and I was…was unique. I hated him for that. H…hated h…him…”

 

It's at this moment that I want to scream at him to stop. I don't want to know anymore, his point having made itself abundantly clear. His body is shaking and I can tell that Vegeta is on the verge of having a breakdown the likes of which I have never seen before and I can't understand why he has the need to finally confide in me other then to make me see how foolish I've been acting when he has had to deal with such horrifying events in his past. However, it is as if he can't stop himself, some unknown force pushing out these memories from the past and all I can do is watch and listen, powerless to make him quit.

 

“He would beat me and then he would…he would hand me t…to his m…m…men. Anytime h…he thought I was getting out of l…line. I…I shut myself off after that, and it helped t…turn me into an even more b…blood thirsty and completely emotionless pawn, which was what Freeza wanted. It continued until I started to lose my boyishness, and then it became a standard humiliating tale among his men. But all it did was fuel my desire for revenge and it only strengthened my conviction to never allow myself to get close to anyone, not even my own men. Not even Nappa or Raditz.”

 

“You know the rest, how I came to Earth looking for the dragon balls. All I wanted was revenge against the ones who had mocked me, humiliated me, and had taken away everything I had ever had except for my pride. It was true that I told Kakarrot and the others that I wanted to wish for immortality, kill Freeza and then rule in his place. But the real truth was that I only half believed the tale about the dragon balls, and I was more then content to try my might against Freeza and die trying to avenge myself upon him. In the back of my mind, I don't think I ever expected to live past defeating him. But I never even got that chance, Freeza killing me before I could make my wish and then Kakarrot defeating him after turning into a Super Saiya-jin. I lost my purpose at that moment, and yet I gained one that I never expected.”

 

Looking at him, I know that I'm crying in front of him but I don't care if he sees my obvious weakness. I…I don't care. Grabbing his hand in my own, I scoot closer to him, feeling the tenseness of his muscles through his hand.

 

“Vegeta, you…you don't have to go on anymore. I under…understand. Please, just please, stop.”

 

Looking at me, he shakes his head and then pulls his cold hand out of my grip.

 

“Y…you have to understand Woman. I will never open up like this to you again, but you have to understand. I have never trusted others. I vowed never to show or feel any emotions other then hate, anger, and my pride. And yet, since this thing has happened to you, I have come to realize many things, most of which is how much my detachment from you and Trunks must have…pained you more then I realized. And I am telling you these things, not because I want to, but so you can understand me better and understand yourself. We both are proud and stubborn, and it isn't until something pushes us to express how we truly feel that we let ourselves go.”

 

“I…care. No, that isn't quite true. I l…love you Woman. I do, and that terrifies me because it is a weakness for me to have such a feeling. Yet I cannot deny that fact. I have stayed on this planet, partially because of Kakarrot, but mostly because of you and because of Trunks. And as for Trunks, you were right when you said that I did not want him to end up like me. And yet, by detaching myself from him because of my own uncertainty, that's what I have been doing this entire time. You are also hurting the boy. He thinks you do not love him and he thinks it's his fault. I told him I would help you to find what you lost and that is why I am here.”

 

Letting out a sob, I push myself towards Vegeta and wrap my arms around him, crying into his chest, all of the things he has told me taking root inside my mind. That he…he loves me. That he doesn't hate me. And…and Trunks. Oh, god. My other baby. I wonder at what my own self-preservation must have been doing to him, and for the first time, I realize what kind of a step Vegeta must have taken when he started to show an interest in Trunks. I had selfishly thought it was to make me start taking care of him, but it was for a completely different reason. Because he realized that Trunks needed him and that he needed Trunks.

 

I don't know how long I lay against Vegeta's chest before I realize that his own arms are wrapped around me as well, his chin resting on the top of my head. With my face pressed against him, it doesn't take me long to realize that his breathing is somewhat erratic. Leaning upward, I pull away from him and wipe my face, only to see for the second time in my life, obvious tears leaking out of the corner of my husband's eyes, spilling down his cheeks and dripping off the underside of his jaw. I can tell that having told me all this has taken a toll on him and rather then distress him even more, I pretend that I don't notice the evidence of his own emotional release. Relaxing slightly, I once again lay my head against him, this time leaning on his shoulder, letting his spicy scent and his warmth comfort me before I finally let everything out.

 

“Vegeta…I'm sorry for how I've been. I…I know that I'm still going to feel miserable, but I thought…I thought a lot of things that obviously aren't true.”

 

I don't know how to proceed, but it's suddenly as though the dam to my inner suffering is lifted, and words I didn't know how to speak start spilling forth over my lips.

 

“I thought….thought you hated me because I didn't tell you about the baby. I thought you were angry with me because I told you to leave…when…when it happened. And when you started to avoid me…I…”

 

“Shhh Woman…we both have thought many things that were neither correct or relevant. That is neither here nor there and since…since you know the truth about my feelings, stop letting such ideas control you.”

 

Pulling back slightly, I'm surprised when his hand comes up behind me and pushes my head back against his shoulder, stroking my hair softly. Speaking into his shoulder, I try to phrase what I have been going through so he understands and so I can…can let it go.

 

“I had…this dream. About our baby. About you and Trunks and me and…Toma. That was his name and you would have been so proud of him Vegeta. He looked like you except he had my eyes. And then he told me he was dead. I can't get his face out of my mind and…and seeing Trunks only makes me feel that much worse because his brother is dead and I couldn't save him. I keep thinking, if only I had gone to the doctor that day when I started having cramps. If only I hadn't ignored the signs because I was afraid. He'd…he'd still be alive.”

 

Telling him all of this, it's like a small weight has been lifted off of me. That the avoidance of Vegeta and my family was only feeding into my own misery. Trying to control my tears, it's a losing battle as a floodgate of sobbing erupts out of me and onto Vegeta.

 

“Oh…Kami. I loved him. I w…wanted him. Why did he have to die? Why?”

 

“Who knows Bulma? Maybe…maybe it just was never meant to be. Or perhaps it happened as a way to make the two of us work through our own problems. I don't know. I don't even know if there is an answer to that. Why do things happen that we wish we could change? I have asked myself these questions countless times and I have never come upon an answer. I don't think that I ever will. That is just the way life is.”

 

Somehow, his raspy words comfort me more then I thought they would. That there is no answer for why things happen the way they do, both the good and the bad.

 

“Just stop blaming yourself for what happened. You can ask `what if' questions until your voice is hoarse from shouting them out to the heavens and you still will not receive an answer. Neither you nor I could control what happened to the child. Who is to say, had you heeded the warnings, the child would have been saved? You don't know that. Blaming yourself is not going to bring him back. I used to blame myself for Vegeta-sei's destruction, for my father's betrayal. Had I only done a better job of purging, my father wouldn't have sold me to Freeza. Had I not attracted Freeza's notice, his fear of the Saiya-jins wouldn't have prompted him to destroy my planet. But thinking that way never brought back my planet and it certainly did not help to become stronger. The same can be said for you.”

 

He is right. I have to stop blaming myself for what happened. If not for my own sanity, then for Trunks and Vegeta. No matter what I say or what I do, Toma is not coming back. I can either continue living the way I have been or I can push away the pain and move on with my life. I know that this process to recover from the grief of losing my child isn't going to happen overnight, but I also know it is time that I finally take control once again. I don't think that Toma would want me to continue on in the vein I've been heading. Feeling the arms around me, I also realize that I am not alone in this process the way I thought I was. True, I don't know how Vegeta will act towards me once this night is over with, but…he loves me. He loves me, and I realize how knowing that fact has suddenly changed both my outlook on the future and the outlook of our relationship. I realize that things will never be easy between the two of us, but he…he has committed himself to me and to Trunks. We still have kinks we need to iron out, but I realize that through finally sharing his demons with me how much Vegeta has finally vested of himself to his family. There is no doubt any longer in my mind that he has accepted his responsibility and the feelings that come along with such an undertaking. And no matter how rocky our path is at the moment, things will work out in the end.

 

Will Vegeta and Bulma continue down the path to recovery between the two of them? Was this confrontation enough to truly bring perspective to Bulma over what her depression has done to both herself and her family? Find out in the next chapter.