Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Falling Away With You ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Froglady15 
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 07.17.2016 | Pages: 12 | Words: 8.3K | Visits: 359 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 07.17.2016 | Pages: 12 | Words: 8.3K | Visits: 359 | Status: Work In Progress
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Just my Husband,
laptop, my 3 dogs and a very overactive imagination… Dragon
Ball Z and any songs mentioned in this fic DO NOT belong to me. I'm
just borrowing them for my own twisted amusement.
Falling Away With You
I can't remember when it was good, moments of happiness elude. Maybe I just misunderstood. All of the love we left behind, watching the flashbacks intertwine. Memories I will never find.
So I'll love whatever you become, and forget the reckless things we've done. I think our lives have just begun, I think our lives have just begun.
And I'll feel my world crumbling, I'll feel my life crumbling, I'll feel my soul crumbling away and falling away, falling away with you.
Staying awake to chase a dream, tasting the air you're breathing in, I hope I won't forget a thing. Promise to hold you close and pray, watching the fantasies decay. Nothing will ever stay the same.
And all of the love we threw away, and all of the hopes we've cherished fade. Making the same mistakes again. Making the same mistakes again.
I'll feel my world crumbling, I'll feel my life crumbling, I'll feel my soul crumbling away. And falling away. Falling away with you
All of the love we left behind, watching the flash backs intertwine. Memories I will never find. Memories I will never find
~Falling Away with You, Muse
Chapter 1
Bulma stood there after she finished tucking Trunks in for his nap and just looked at him in wonder. She had just gotten back from the island the Androids had appeared on. Vegeta had been right, she told herself as the earlier events of the day began to fully sink in. I, no, we had no business being there. I almost got us killed, she thought in horror as she began to dwell on it. And true to his word, he didn’t even lift a finger to save us. If it hadn’t been for that boy from the future... she thought sadly, shaking her head and trying to dismiss the negative thoughts running through her mind as she felt her eyes begin to burn from tears that were beginning to build up from the pent up stress and emotions from the day.
Would he have even cared if we had been killed, she asked herself. Probably not. He would have probably seen it as a blessing, she told herself bitterly, wiping away a stray tear that began to fall.
However, try as she may, she couldn’t bring herself to be completely angry with Vegeta and his callous attitude towards their very near demise. He had told her not to come. He had made it very clear that it was a mistake for her to show up with Trunks; and what had she done? She’d blatantly ignored his practical council and had stubbornly shown up anyway in an act of defiance just to spite him, not taking a moment to consider that maybe he was right or that just maybe the reason why he had been so insistent she not show up, was because it had been his subtle way of letting her know that he did in some small way actually care about them.
As she let that possibility sink in, the more upset she became with herself and less with Vegeta.
She was embarrassed.
Sure she was hurt and angry with the way Vegeta had reacted, or rather hadn’t reacted, but she was more upset at herself than anything else. She had been a fool to disregard his request that she remain far from the battle.
Even Goku had urged her to leave just before it all started and she had been too stubborn and hard headed to take his concerns to heart and leave when she should have.
When Krillin had brought Yamcha back with a hole punched clean through his chest and back, that should have been her cue to turn tail and head home. Thank Korin for sensu beans, she said to herself as the unpleasant churn in her stomach returned at the memory of seeing Yamcha so badly hurt. Her stomach had dropped the instant she had seen Krillin racing towards them with her ex-boyfriend slung over his shoulder. She had known immediately that it was Yamcha.
Yajirobe had questioned her on how she could possibly be so sure since all they could see was the orange gi, but she’d known it wasn’t Goku. As much as she still cared very deeply for Yamcha and knew some part of her always would, she knew he really wasn’t a useful team member anymore in these battles. Everyone had surpassed him by so much now that it wasn’t even worth his showing up to help defend Earth anymore. Not when they had Goku, Gohan, Piccolo and hopefully Vegeta, for now anyway, she thought guiltily. He had nearly been killed before the fight had even started. She admired his willingness to help, but what good were good intentions, courage and a heart of gold in a situation where you were as breakable as paper mache in comparison to your adversary and your fellow companions? None, really.
Once they had restored Yamcha after giving him a senzu bean, she should have left. What possible reason had she to even stay after that? Yamcha's near death should have frightened her off but instead, it had only fuelled her curiosity. She hadn’t cared what the risk was or thought about the possible dangers. Vegeta hadn’t made an appearance yet and she had wanted him to know she had shown up anyway despite his expressed wishes that she not come. Deep down, she knew that was her true motivation at that point and it had overruled any common sense on the matter at that point.
What does that say about me, she asked herself. That I would needlessly put myself and my son in such a dangerous situation just to prove a point. Am I a horrible mother?
Bulma shook her head at herself as she considered that. No, you’re not a horrible parent, you love your son more than anything else but I think the time has come for me to accept that I should remain behind on the sidelines and quit being so reckless. Chi-Chi is never in the thick of it.
She sighed in annoyance, staying behind is so boring though!
Bulma was a thrill seeker; always had been since she was a little girl. She thrived on taking risks and the sometimes near-death experiences.
She finally exited Trunks’ nursery, walking into her spacious bathroom to draw herself up a bath. She left her door open just a crack so that she could hear Trunks if he happened to wake up, though he’d had a pretty long day. She wouldn’t be surprised if he slept until midnight at least.
As the water ran, she examined herself in the mirror. She was 33 years old now, not 17 or 18. Though in her mind she still looked and felt like she was. Not only was she an “adult” she was a mother now too. I guess it’s time I started acting like one, she sighed in resignation that the time to grow up had finally come. She had fought it for as long as possible.
Bulma crawled into the soothing, hot water while it was still running and took a deep breath as she relaxed, letting the hot water wash away her tension. She knew she was going to be stiff and sore tomorrow from all the flying with Gohan. Poor kid, she affectionately chuckled to herself as she thought about how he had selflessly brought back her and Trunks and Yajirobe back without complaint; he had even taken a detour and dropped her off first before going to check on his father and whether or not he was recovering.
She let her mind drift back to her friends. She hoped they were all okay and that none of them had fallen. Without Goku, who knew how things would go. She hoped he was on the mend, having taken the antidote; hopefully they had caught the virus in time before it did any irreparable damage to him. In the meantime, let’s just hope they can all just hang in there until he is able to get back out there.
Bulma wanted to place all her hope and faith in Vegeta, she really did, but the problem with Vegeta was he wasn’t a team player. He wanted to do everything on his own and never accept any help from anyone else for fear of appearing weak in front of everyone else. She understood it to a point, but he was so extreme in his insistence that he stand apart from the rest of the group that she was worried it would get him killed. It will, she snorted out loud as she leaned forward to shut the water off. He’d rather die than ask for assistance from anyone. Idiotic, temperamental, pig headed, stupid, asshole Saiyan.
She chuckled at herself as she realized that in a lot of ways they were very much alike. Which is probably why things between us would have never worked out in the long run anyway.
Bulma thought about that for a moment. She was torn. After their brief fling had ended, she had discovered a few weeks later she was pregnant. Then he had left to go train in space before the Andriods and she hadn’t seen him again until last night. He had returned about three weeks early, she’d known that because the ship had been brought back in fairly decent shape, considering its occupant and how long it had been gone. She snickered to herself in memory of her threatening that he return the ship back whole and in working condition or she would go out there looking for it and him. And he did bring it back in working condition.
She’d had a long time to think about it while he’d been gone. She had come to terms with the possibility that she would be raising her son without a father. That didn’t bother her too much, however. She had the Z fighters as her friends so she knew that there wouldn’t be a lack of male figures in his life to look up to and train with as he grew up. Although if Vegeta did somehow have a change of heart and decided he wanted to be a part of Trunks’ life, she was more than alright with that too.
Bulma sighed as she took in the warmth of the hot water; it was exactly what she needed but she decided she should get out and check in the lab to make sure that everything with all of her friends was still okay. With Goku out of the fight, who knew how things were going. If any of them called her for any reason, she needed to make sure she was available.
You said you were going to remain on the sidelines from now on, she sternly reminded herself as she drew figure eights in the water contemplating it. “Yea, for the next one I will, but until then, I need to help them in any way that I possibly can so our future doesn’t turn out the same as what that boy said it would.” she said determinedly, draining her tub and getting out. It was only late afternoon, who knew what had transpired between now and when she’d left. Maybe she could find something on Dr. Gero’s research and on the androids themselves that could be of some help. She knew the chances of that were slim to none being that Dr. Gero had been very reclusive and almost non-existent the past few decades, but with any luck, maybe she could find something that would be of some use.
Bulma dried herself off and dressed herself in a comfortable top and pants. Trunks was still fast asleep but she carefully bundled him up and headed towards the lab with her, not surprised that he didn’t so much as stir. Poor little guy, she thought to herself, giving him a soft kiss on the head as she went.
Even if she and Vegeta had no future together, she would do everything in her power to help everyone out. If for no other reason, Trunks deserved a future.
“Bulma, I’m glad I found you,” her father greeted her as she walked through the kitchen. “I need you to take a look at this,” he said, placing a picture on the kitchen table.
“What is it?” she asked, studying the picture for a minute. It was an old looking machine covered in moss and dirt.
“Not sure,” her father shrugged. “Someone called to let us know that they found it because it has the Capsule Corporation logo on it but I’m sure it’s not one of our products. Does it ring a bell to you?”
“Hmmm,” she hummed. It looked vaguely like the machine that boy from the future who claimed to be her son had travelled in but how could that be? “I’m not sure,” she said to her father. “Let me talk to the guy to see what other information I can get for him and then let me make a few calls. This definitely isn’t one of ours, but I might know where it came from.”
Bulma took the information her father already had written down and went back upstairs to her room. She had some investigating to do and she had a strange feeling the only person who would be able to give her any answers was the older version of her son from the future who had saved her and Trunks. It was still strange to her to think that the small baby in her arms and that boy were the same person.
“Still, at least he’ll grow up to be polite, well-mannered, he got more of my looks than Vegeta’s and none of Vegeta’s personality,” she shrugged in satisfaction, putting Trunks back into his crib. Bulma picked up her phone to call the guy who discovered this strange object. “I’m going to need a glass of wine,” she sighed as she heard the phone ring on the other end, waiting for someone to answer.
-0-0-0-
Vegeta saw her as she passed him in the hallway with a sleeping Trunks and scowled at her. She was the last person he wanted to see, let alone talk to and that was saying a lot, considering all the Z warriors had decided to congregate at Capsule Corporation to wait for news on the specifics of this tournament that Cell wanted to hold. At least those idiots had the wherewithal to leave him alone for the most part.
Bulma must have felt the same about not wanting to talk to him either, he figured as she shot him an equally cool look and quickly retreated back to her bedroom, making certain he heard her close the door behind her.
Good, he snorted and made his way back down to the kitchen to try and scrounge up a meal. He was hungry and couldn’t remember when the last time was that he had eaten. He carelessly began rummaging through the fridge, grabbing everything and anything without much thought.
“Well look at you,” she sneered at him, not even trying to hide her feelings of animosity towards him as she strolled into the kitchen, however she made sure to keep her voice down so that the other Z fighters wouldn’t hear her. She initially wasn’t going to even bother speaking with him but after she’d slammed the door at him in the hallway a few minutes ago and got no reaction from him, she decided she needed to speak with him about what had happened whether it was a good idea or not.
Vegeta turned and scowled at her. He had been so absorbed in his own thoughts he hadn’t noticed her approaching. He had assumed she had gone to bed.
“So? Did you win and beat everyone?” she asked, her tone laced with sarcasm. He knew she would know by now that he had gotten his ass kicked royally by both Android 18 and Perfect Cell. “Oh, that’s right, you didn’t. You didn’t beat anyone, did you?”
He just continued to glare at her, wishing she would just go away and leave him alone. He’d beaten one of the androids but he didn’t even have the energy to bring that up and dispute her claim that he hadn’t beaten anyone. He didn’t give a shit what she thought.
“You look splendid by the way,” she commented sarcastically, looking him over critically. “There’s fresh flight suits and armour in your bedroom in the closet.”
“Hmmn,” he grunted. He knew he looked like shit and didn’t appreciate her biting tone and sarcasm. “I am only here for a shower, a meal and a few hours of sleep and then I’m leaving to train more for this tournament Cell is putting on. That is the only reason why I am here.”
“As always,” she snorted bitterly. “Well go on then, I wouldn’t want to keep you. Trunks and I are just fine by the way, thanks for asking and checking in on us.”
Vegeta shot her a nasty look in response. “I can see that. Hopefully you learned something from that little incident.” he replied coolly taking great satisfaction at the hurt look she shot his way before turning away and exiting the kitchen, leaving him alone.
She had to help her father repair that android anyway. Arguing with Vegeta would have to wait.
Of course he cared that both she and the brat had very nearly been killed. He kept telling himself after it had happened that he didn’t care and that she had it coming for being so stupid as to make an appearance, never mind the annoyance he felt over her blatantly disrespecting his wishes on behalf of her own safety and the safety of their son. Despite telling himself he didn’t care, the incident instead had shaken him up deeply and it bothered him every time he thought about it and replayed it in his mind over and over again.
He had frozen in the moment and he was not sure how he felt about that. On one hand, it was unacceptable as a warrior of his calibre to simply freeze and not react to a situation but on the other, by not reacting he had spared himself the humiliation he would have felt knowing that the other warriors would have seen him nearly breaking his neck to save his family. That meant acknowledging that he possibly cared about them somewhat and he wasn’t ready for that just yet, never mind being alright with them knowing that he might.
Those other weakened low class warriors all thought that they were better than him. They all assumed that he only cared about himself and no one else, which was true. He didn’t care one iota about any of them, the inhabitants of this planet, or even the planet itself and he was alright with them thinking that. It meant they kept their distance from him and that was exactly how he preferred it.
However, as much as he tried denying it, he did care about the woman and her child. It was a new and foreign feeling to him that even he knew he hadn’t properly addressed to figure out what that meant for him and how he was supposed to act. What he did know was he had been so angry with her for still showing up on the battlefield with Trunks that the moment the explosion happened, he hadn’t cared. Serves her right, or something along those lines had been the only thought that had gone through his mind until Future Trunks had confronted him over why he hadn’t even attempted to save them.
Instead of eating a bit of humble pie and apologizing for the lapse or admitting that he had been wrong to do nothing, he had lied and cruelly said that he had better things to do than worry about the safety of that foolish woman and her blasted child, was what he had said. He winced now slightly at that cutting remark and what disturbed him somewhat was when he’d said it, he’d meant it.
He had completely alienated himself from her and the adult version of his son. So be it, he shrugged as he finished his meal. It is better that way anyway. I do not need them.
Vegeta left all the dirty dishes on the table for someone else to clean up as he went to his room for a hot shower and a quick power nap before deciding whether or not he was leaving for good after beating Cell or not.
“What was that about?” Krillin asked him as he walked out of the kitchen.
“Mind your business,” Vegeta snarled at him as he passed him in the hall.
“Look, I know we’re not exactly friends, but I think Bulma is a little bit upset by what happened in her air car,” Krillin pressed, knowing it was probably not in his best interests. “I’m not judging you, just warning you that you know what they say about a woman spurned?”
“Hmmn,” he grunted.
“Ya, well then there’s a Bulma spurned and that’s a whole different ballgame altogether,” Krillin chuckled. “Believe you me, Yamcha wrote the book on that one and being in Bulma’s doghouse.”
“What difference does it make to you or that idiot weakling?”
“None, really, just warning you that if you are planning to stay here after this thing with Cell that she’s going to probably make your life a living hell for a while,” Krillin cautioned. “In all honesty, I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes at the moment.”
Vegeta snarled and closed the door to his bedroom, ignoring Krillin and his council altogether. She already makes my life a living hell, what else is new?
A couple of hours later, Vegeta was washed, dressed and feeling somewhat rested. He didn't feel as good as he’d hoped and knew he should take a little longer before leaving but he wanted to get out of Capsule Corporation as quickly as possible.
He crept quietly down the hallway, not wanting to attract the attention of the woman. He had nothing to say to her. Thoughts of Trunks flashed in his mind and he paused a moment. Should he go see him before leaving? No, he told himself as he kept walking.
He wasn’t cut out to be a father, so why pretend now? Spending time with Future Trunks in the hyperbolic time chamber had proved that. Yes they had managed to forge some sort of relationship but it had only been because the boy so desperately had wanted to. Vegeta couldn’t have cared less and only hoped the boy would leave him alone the remainder of his time here.
Ten days, he told himself. He had ten days to train and improve and he would. He would deal with Cell himself and show all these low class warriors what he was capable of.
-0-0-0-
It had been three months since the Cell Games.
Vegeta hadn’t left his room since Future Trunks had left this timeline. Initially, he had decided on leaving this miserable planet altogether. What was here for him anymore? Nothing, he told himself. Absolutely nothing.
As he had been preparing to leave, thoughts of Trunks had begun to plague him again. Should he remain here and get to know the child that would eventually grow up to be the man he had interacted with during his brief time here in this timeline? No, he’d told himself. He had nothing to offer the boy. It was best he leave now while he was still an infant and likely had no memory or knowledge him at all.
Except something was telling him to stay.
He hadn’t realized how much the boy meant to him until Cell had killed him.
It frightened him.
He would have denied it until he was blue in the face that Trunks meant absolutely nothing to him. He wasn’t his son. Maybe he was his son in another timeline, but that wasn’t this timeline. Therefore he felt no obligation to the boy. Until he had been killed. It had been one of the most traumatic events of his life.
He had seen and been around death from as far back as he could remember and never had the sight of anyone’s death shaken him so deeply as when he’d witnessed Trunks’ death. He could barely even remember it now but he had gone into a blind rage in his reaction to it.
It was disgraceful. He had been nothing more than a liability in that battle.
What good had he done himself or any of them? None. Cell had only toyed with him for a few minutes and that had been that.
For whatever reason, his feelings of shame over failing the future version of his son so horribly seemed to be the only reason why he stayed here, but yet he could not bring himself to venture out of his room and go see the boy.
Vegeta sighed, dismissing his thoughts of shame and disappointment in himself and decided that he needed to get up and eat something. He had been holed up in this room for several days now and he was so hungry even he couldn’t ignore his stomach’s objections anymore to being left empty and neglected.
While a part of him had no desire to eat and no real appetite, he knew he had to put something into his system as he stood up and felt the floor move beneath him as though it were being pulled out from beneath his feet.
He braced the wall a moment to regain his equilibrium and closed his eyes. Getting up as quick as he had had been a bad idea and he put a hand on his face, leaning forward just a bit, still bracing the wall as he tried to remember the last time he was this disoriented from lack of nutrition, trying to think of anything to distract himself from the feeling of vertigo and nausea from an empty stomach and dehydration.
The last time he felt this way was because Frieza had taken away his dining privileges and rations. He had starved him for several weeks from what he could remember. What had he done to merit that? He tried to think back, anything to distract himself from feeling as horrible as he did right now.
He began to panic as he felt his heart palpating rapidly. He remembered he had been without food for so long that time that he’d gotten some viral infection that had left him ill for weeks afterwards because his immune system had shut down. On top of that, he’d nearly had a heart attack he had been so weakened by the ordeal. Being that a Saiyan’s metabolism was so rapid, it didn’t take long for the body to burn through any and all reserves and once the first few lines of defence were used up, it was a steady, rapid decline after that. From his time on Earth, he had learned that a human could out live a Saiyan if cut off from food.
Now feeling that palpating of his heart despite knowing it hadn’t been that long since he had eaten last, it shook him up somewhat. He knew it was probably all in his head because he was remembering it but still, he knew that he needed some kind of sustenance.
How long has it been, he asked himself as he sat back down. The dizziness and disorientation wasn’t going away. It cannot be any longer than a few days. Not weeks like last time.
Last time he’d had no food for maybe four or five weeks he suspected. His water had been cut off two weeks into his food deprivation. He couldn’t remember why though. Why had Frieza done that? It wasn’t until Zarbon and Dodoria had gone to Frieza on his behalf because he was in the med bay after minor heart failure that Frieza had relented and allowed him to receive his usual rations again. It had taken him another three weeks to recover from a viral infection and begin regaining his former strength.
He must have been in a really bad state that Zarbon and Dodoria had intervened. They’d hated him. Not even Nappa and Raditz had been able to remedy the situation and from what he remembered if they were caught sneaking him anything they themselves would be cut off as well and made to suffer the same as he was.
That was it! He thought to himself as it all came back to him. They had been on a planet that Frieza had wanted for its desirable agricultural traits and Raditz the idiot had not only scorched more than half of the planet’s surface area, thereby destroying the crops but he had blown up many of their storage reserve facilities as well so they had next to nothing to bring back with them to Frieza’s ship.
Needless to say, Frieza had been a little more than pissed off. Because Vegeta was the commanding officer, as usual, he had to take the fall for any mistakes that were made whether they were his fault or not. He had been young at that time. Maybe 19? It had been one of his first missions from what he recalled.
“Fucking useless worm,” he muttered under his breath as he attempted to stand up again only slowly this time.
He still felt a tad disoriented, but he could manage. Skipping taking a shower, he promptly headed down the stairs and into the kitchen to see what kind of meal he could scrounge up. Fortunately for him, the woman’s mother almost always had an abundance of food prepared and set aside.
He rummaged through the fridge and found a casserole dish that was half finished and grabbed it, not caring about what kind of casserole it was, nor did he attempt to warm it up. It was a start and his stomach was growling loudly at the mere sight and smell of food.
Bulma happened to walk into the kitchen just as he sat down and began to dig into the cold leftovers.
“Wow, so the walking dead do exist,” she said sarcastically as she saw him. “What, did your bottomless stomach wake you from your endless slumber?”
Vegeta continued to eat, not even pausing to acknowledge her.
“You know that would taste a whole lot better if you warmed it up, right?”
He simply grunted, not caring.
Bulma sighed at his rudeness as she went to the fridge to see what she could make for herself. It was late afternoon so she didn’t want to eat too much or she wouldn't be hungry come dinner time. She settled on making a sandwich and began taking out sliced meat, cheese and a few other condiments.
As she started, she looked over her shoulder at Vegeta, who was scraping the bottom of the casserole dish trying to make sure he’d gotten every last morsel of the casserole.
“Would you like a sandwich or will that tide you over until dinner?” she asked begrudgingly, not wanting to be nice to him but unable to refrain. She knew that half of a lasagne casserole wouldn’t put even a dent in his appetite. Especially since she knew he hadn’t eaten or even left his room in almost a whole week.
“Yes,” he replied.
Of course he does, Bulma sighed and handed him her sandwich.
He didn’t thank her or say anything, just ate it as soon as he took it from her.
Bulma made three more sandwiches; two for Vegeta and one for herself before putting everything away and snagging two bottles of water for them.
“I’m not sure what mom is making for dinner but you know you’re welcome to join us, right?”
Again, he said nothing, just continued to eat his sandwiches in a steady, determined fashion.
“Whatever, I don’t know why I even bother with you. It’s not like you’re royalty you're more like a pain in the ass DP than anything else,” she sighed in frustration under her breath as she got up to leave. If he wasn’t going to make the effort, neither would she.
“What was that?”
“I said you are a pain in the ass DP!” she repeated louder. “What, you can’t hear me? Maybe you need your ears checked.”
“What the fuck is a DP?” he snarled at her.
Bulma shrugged. “You,” she spat taking great satisfaction that he had no clue what she had just called him.
Of course, this only infuriated him even more as his mind went through a mental rolodex of crude insults, though he couldn’t grasp the meaning behind it. “I am not!”
Bulma, instead of feeling fear from the menacing look he was giving her, began to laugh almost hysterically. “Well, if the shoe fits...” she giggled hilariously at him.
“I do not take kindly to being mocked,” he said dangerously, getting up from his seat and approaching her threateningly.
“Well here’s a news flash for you, buddy,” she snapped, absentmindedly taking a few steps back from him. “You don’t really take kindly to much of anything!”
Vegeta glared at her. “It is difficult to take kindly to much of anything when a demon woman such as yourself is constantly around.”
“Well then go off and find someplace else to live and someone else’s heard earned resources and facilities to destroy and harass because I’m tired of it! This is a home and a place of business, not some fucking DP camp to house every lost cause out there.”
There it was, that term she called him again that he assumed was derogatory in nature. It bothered him that she had the upper hand in this argument because he did not know what DP meant.
“What was that, dear?” Mrs. Briefs asked, waltzing into the kitchen.
“Nothing, mom,” she sighed in annoyance but a part of her was relieved her mother had shown up when she did. Vegeta looked like he was about to throttle her and for whatever reason, she just could not stop prodding at him and resist making him angrier than he already was.
“Who is housing lost causes, dear?” her mother asked. “You can let them know that we have plenty of space and accommodations for anyone who needs a safe place to stay for a little while. I still kind of miss those green people who stayed with us for a while a few years back.”
Not wanting to miss the golden opportunity to possibly make Bulma look bad in front of her mother, Vegeta turned and looked at the attractive older woman. “She was referring to me as a lost cause and that this compound is her home and not a DP camp.”
“Bulma! What a terrible thing to say about any of our house guests, past or present,” her mother scolded her. “I thought your father and I raised you to have more compassion and kindness than that.”
“I was referring to Vegeta as a DP, not the Nameks,” she defended herself, shooting a dirty look at Vegeta who was grinning gleefully at her. “What happened to the Nameks wasn’t their fault and Vegeta was partially to blame if you care to remember that part of the story. He destroyed villages and killed a bunch of them too.”
“All the same dear, that’s a terrible thing to call someone. I’m sure it’s not Vegeta’s fault either that he has no other place to call home besides here. You should show him a little more kindness than that,”
“He doesn’t even know what it means,” she snorted dismissively. It drove her crazy how her mother always took Vegeta’s side, never giving her the benefit of the doubt.
“That’s even worse, dear. You should be ashamed of yourself!”
“Would somebody tell me what the hell a DP is already?” Vegeta demanded irritably, fed up with being the only one who had no idea what they were discussing but was apparently at the centre of being both mocked and defended.
Bulma looked at her mother. “You can tell him,” she snipped. “Since you’re the one always valiantly defending him.”
Mrs. Briefs uncharacteristically sighed in annoyance at her daughter’s childishness. She simply could not understand why those two were always at each other’s throats. She knew that they’d had a short lived affair a while back. She wasn’t sure why it hadn’t worked out; in Mrs. Briefs mind, they were perfectly suited for one another. Not to mention they had given her the most adorable grandson anyone could wish for. She only wanted them to get their act together and settle down and hopefully in a little while she would have another little grand baby to spoil and fawn over. With any luck, maybe it would be a little girl who looked as gorgeous as Bulma with beautiful blue hair or maybe a striking little beauty with dark features the same as Vegeta.
Mrs. Briefs sighed inwardly to herself. At this rate, that was never going to happen.
“A DP stands for Displaced Person,” she finally said to Vegeta.
“Meaning what?” he asked impatiently. That didn’t sound so bad.
“Well, it’s somewhat complicated and covers a vast meaning of a few different scenarios, but essentially a displaced person refers to someone that was forced to leave their home,” she clarified. “Usually in the case of victims of war, a group of people are removed from their native country and placed elsewhere as refugees, political prisoners or slave labourers in some cases. The term Displaced Person is considered derogatory in nature since after the Second World War with the immigration of many Europeans heading to the United States and Canada after Hitler destroyed everything.”
Vegeta shot Bulma such an icy look that immediately made her regret having her mother tell him what the phrase meant and she looked at the floor in shame. When had she become so mean?
He looked at her in disbelief. Sure, he supposed he fit into the category Mrs. Briefs had just described; it was what it was, but Bulma knew what a sensitive topic it was for him the destruction of his people, home and his being forced to work for Frieza as a child slave warrior all the way into his late 20’s; he was essentially a slave and still would be if he hadn’t embarked on his mission to this miserable planet in an effort to break away from all of that.
True, he still felt nothing but animosity towards Kakarott and the way his life had turned out in general. His life seemed to have no purpose or direction anymore now that the Planet Trade Organization was no more; sometimes that bothered him and sometimes it didn’t and he just liked being able to kick back and have a decent nights rest and a good meal without having to constantly be looking over his shoulder.
That she would take his situation and make fun of it in such an insulting and derogatory manner hurt him more deeply than he knew it should have and that alone gave him pause for thought as to why he would feel hurt over something that came out of her foul mouth. Out of all the insults and abusive speech she’d thrown back at him, this was quite possibly the worst thing she had ever said to him and he was so thrown off, he was hard pressed to have anything to say in retaliation to her.
Bulma chanced a glance at him and the moment their eyes met, she knew she’d gone too far this time. She actually felt bad for making fun of him over something so terrible.
Vegeta did not say another word and promptly exited the kitchen as quickly as possible to place as much space between that viper-mouthed woman and himself before he did something he knew that he would regret.
She stamped her foot on the floor in frustration. For the first time ever, she had one upped Vegeta in one of their verbal spars and left him speechless. That never happened! Instead of crowing in victory over getting one on him, she actually felt bad that she had said something that actually hurt him.
“Now look what you’ve gone and done,” Mrs. Briefs reprimanded her daughter. “Honestly, Bulma, I cannot believe you sometimes.”
Bulma ignored her mother and left the kitchen to go outside after Vegeta. Once again, she questioned herself. What is wrong with me?
“Vegeta wait a minute. I didn’t mean-”
“Just leave me alone, you fucking bitch,” he snarled, appearing in front of her suddenly, shoving her against the wall; his hand on her throat threateningly. “If you know what is good for you.”
“I’m sorry, I-”
“Bullshit,” he spat. “You are only sorry because I called you out in front of your mother.”
Bulma didn’t reply. He was right; if her mother hadn’t walked in on their conversation when she had, she’d have dragged the insult out and thrown it at him for weeks at every possible opportunity she could, revelling in the knowledge that he didn’t know the meaning behind it. That was why it was funny. The actual meaning behind it wasn’t, just taunting him over something that he didn’t know was enough for her and why she’d run with it.
“I was more making fun of the fact that you didn’t know what it meant rather than the literal meaning behind it, Vegeta,” she admitted, though she knew it was weak.
He let her go a moment later before turning away from her altogether without another word.
“Oh come on Vegeta. If the roles were reversed, you’d have taken great delight with taunting me over something I didn’t know the meaning behind. You’d have dragged it out for weeks and then laugh at me over it!”
He snorted. She was right, and he knew that. He would have done the exact same thing to her. That didn’t make him feel any less hurt that she would laugh at something so horrible that had happened to him. Once again, she knew how bitter he was still over losing out on everything that he had been destined to have.
“Consider yourself fortunate that I consider you as not worth the effort to dismember and leave me alone,” he said and took off into the air before the desire to tear her apart over ran the common sense dictating that he refrain from doing such a thing.
“Yea, just go! That’s what you’re good at!” she shouted after him, not taking the moment to realize and appreciate how close to death she had actually come this time. Bulma stood outside watching his retreating form until she couldn’t see him anymore before heading back into the house.
“You know, you catch a lot more flies with honey than with vinegar, dear,” her mother chided her.
“Thanks, mum,” she sighed, rolling her eyes as she walked through the kitchen towards the fridge hoping to scrounge something more to tide her over until dinner.
“I mean really, Bulma,” her mother shook her head. “You know that boy has been through an awful lot. I don’t know specifics, but it’s written all over him that he hasn’t lived an easy life. Why do you work so hard to make him despise you?”
“I don’t work at making him despise me!” she argued back.
“Yes, you do,” her mother insisted, stopping what she was doing and turning to look at her daughter. “You share a son together for crying out loud, Bulma. Can you not set aside whatever feelings of animosity you have towards him so you can both raise him together? Forget that I think you two would be really good for each other because what do I know, right? But for a moment, can you think of that poor, sweet little boy you both created and attempt to get along with him? He may be troubled, but he’s a decent young man.”
Bulma sighed, simply taking a beer from the fridge and closing the refrigerator door harder than it needed to be. If only you knew that ‘decent young man’ would have preferred to let me and your precious grandson die without even batting an eye, she bit her tongue back wanting so badly to spill that crucial piece of information to her and let her chew on that for a day or two. As angry as Bulma still was over that, she couldn’t bring herself to reveal it. Why not? She asked herself. Because his reaction was partially your own damn fault, she argued back to herself.
“Whatever, mum,” she sighed again and making a beeline for the door. “Trust me, he’s only here for the free food and accommodations. Once something better comes along, that will be the last we ever see or hear from him. Son or no son.”
“Well don’t give him a chance to find something more worthwhile,” her mother countered as she shook her head at her own daughter.
Bulma pretended to not hear her and continued upstairs to her room to check on Trunks. What was she going to do about Vegeta?
-0-0-0-
Falling Away With You
I can't remember when it was good, moments of happiness elude. Maybe I just misunderstood. All of the love we left behind, watching the flashbacks intertwine. Memories I will never find.
So I'll love whatever you become, and forget the reckless things we've done. I think our lives have just begun, I think our lives have just begun.
And I'll feel my world crumbling, I'll feel my life crumbling, I'll feel my soul crumbling away and falling away, falling away with you.
Staying awake to chase a dream, tasting the air you're breathing in, I hope I won't forget a thing. Promise to hold you close and pray, watching the fantasies decay. Nothing will ever stay the same.
And all of the love we threw away, and all of the hopes we've cherished fade. Making the same mistakes again. Making the same mistakes again.
I'll feel my world crumbling, I'll feel my life crumbling, I'll feel my soul crumbling away. And falling away. Falling away with you
All of the love we left behind, watching the flash backs intertwine. Memories I will never find. Memories I will never find
~Falling Away with You, Muse
Chapter 1
Bulma stood there after she finished tucking Trunks in for his nap and just looked at him in wonder. She had just gotten back from the island the Androids had appeared on. Vegeta had been right, she told herself as the earlier events of the day began to fully sink in. I, no, we had no business being there. I almost got us killed, she thought in horror as she began to dwell on it. And true to his word, he didn’t even lift a finger to save us. If it hadn’t been for that boy from the future... she thought sadly, shaking her head and trying to dismiss the negative thoughts running through her mind as she felt her eyes begin to burn from tears that were beginning to build up from the pent up stress and emotions from the day.
Would he have even cared if we had been killed, she asked herself. Probably not. He would have probably seen it as a blessing, she told herself bitterly, wiping away a stray tear that began to fall.
However, try as she may, she couldn’t bring herself to be completely angry with Vegeta and his callous attitude towards their very near demise. He had told her not to come. He had made it very clear that it was a mistake for her to show up with Trunks; and what had she done? She’d blatantly ignored his practical council and had stubbornly shown up anyway in an act of defiance just to spite him, not taking a moment to consider that maybe he was right or that just maybe the reason why he had been so insistent she not show up, was because it had been his subtle way of letting her know that he did in some small way actually care about them.
As she let that possibility sink in, the more upset she became with herself and less with Vegeta.
She was embarrassed.
Sure she was hurt and angry with the way Vegeta had reacted, or rather hadn’t reacted, but she was more upset at herself than anything else. She had been a fool to disregard his request that she remain far from the battle.
Even Goku had urged her to leave just before it all started and she had been too stubborn and hard headed to take his concerns to heart and leave when she should have.
When Krillin had brought Yamcha back with a hole punched clean through his chest and back, that should have been her cue to turn tail and head home. Thank Korin for sensu beans, she said to herself as the unpleasant churn in her stomach returned at the memory of seeing Yamcha so badly hurt. Her stomach had dropped the instant she had seen Krillin racing towards them with her ex-boyfriend slung over his shoulder. She had known immediately that it was Yamcha.
Yajirobe had questioned her on how she could possibly be so sure since all they could see was the orange gi, but she’d known it wasn’t Goku. As much as she still cared very deeply for Yamcha and knew some part of her always would, she knew he really wasn’t a useful team member anymore in these battles. Everyone had surpassed him by so much now that it wasn’t even worth his showing up to help defend Earth anymore. Not when they had Goku, Gohan, Piccolo and hopefully Vegeta, for now anyway, she thought guiltily. He had nearly been killed before the fight had even started. She admired his willingness to help, but what good were good intentions, courage and a heart of gold in a situation where you were as breakable as paper mache in comparison to your adversary and your fellow companions? None, really.
Once they had restored Yamcha after giving him a senzu bean, she should have left. What possible reason had she to even stay after that? Yamcha's near death should have frightened her off but instead, it had only fuelled her curiosity. She hadn’t cared what the risk was or thought about the possible dangers. Vegeta hadn’t made an appearance yet and she had wanted him to know she had shown up anyway despite his expressed wishes that she not come. Deep down, she knew that was her true motivation at that point and it had overruled any common sense on the matter at that point.
What does that say about me, she asked herself. That I would needlessly put myself and my son in such a dangerous situation just to prove a point. Am I a horrible mother?
Bulma shook her head at herself as she considered that. No, you’re not a horrible parent, you love your son more than anything else but I think the time has come for me to accept that I should remain behind on the sidelines and quit being so reckless. Chi-Chi is never in the thick of it.
She sighed in annoyance, staying behind is so boring though!
Bulma was a thrill seeker; always had been since she was a little girl. She thrived on taking risks and the sometimes near-death experiences.
She finally exited Trunks’ nursery, walking into her spacious bathroom to draw herself up a bath. She left her door open just a crack so that she could hear Trunks if he happened to wake up, though he’d had a pretty long day. She wouldn’t be surprised if he slept until midnight at least.
As the water ran, she examined herself in the mirror. She was 33 years old now, not 17 or 18. Though in her mind she still looked and felt like she was. Not only was she an “adult” she was a mother now too. I guess it’s time I started acting like one, she sighed in resignation that the time to grow up had finally come. She had fought it for as long as possible.
Bulma crawled into the soothing, hot water while it was still running and took a deep breath as she relaxed, letting the hot water wash away her tension. She knew she was going to be stiff and sore tomorrow from all the flying with Gohan. Poor kid, she affectionately chuckled to herself as she thought about how he had selflessly brought back her and Trunks and Yajirobe back without complaint; he had even taken a detour and dropped her off first before going to check on his father and whether or not he was recovering.
She let her mind drift back to her friends. She hoped they were all okay and that none of them had fallen. Without Goku, who knew how things would go. She hoped he was on the mend, having taken the antidote; hopefully they had caught the virus in time before it did any irreparable damage to him. In the meantime, let’s just hope they can all just hang in there until he is able to get back out there.
Bulma wanted to place all her hope and faith in Vegeta, she really did, but the problem with Vegeta was he wasn’t a team player. He wanted to do everything on his own and never accept any help from anyone else for fear of appearing weak in front of everyone else. She understood it to a point, but he was so extreme in his insistence that he stand apart from the rest of the group that she was worried it would get him killed. It will, she snorted out loud as she leaned forward to shut the water off. He’d rather die than ask for assistance from anyone. Idiotic, temperamental, pig headed, stupid, asshole Saiyan.
She chuckled at herself as she realized that in a lot of ways they were very much alike. Which is probably why things between us would have never worked out in the long run anyway.
Bulma thought about that for a moment. She was torn. After their brief fling had ended, she had discovered a few weeks later she was pregnant. Then he had left to go train in space before the Andriods and she hadn’t seen him again until last night. He had returned about three weeks early, she’d known that because the ship had been brought back in fairly decent shape, considering its occupant and how long it had been gone. She snickered to herself in memory of her threatening that he return the ship back whole and in working condition or she would go out there looking for it and him. And he did bring it back in working condition.
She’d had a long time to think about it while he’d been gone. She had come to terms with the possibility that she would be raising her son without a father. That didn’t bother her too much, however. She had the Z fighters as her friends so she knew that there wouldn’t be a lack of male figures in his life to look up to and train with as he grew up. Although if Vegeta did somehow have a change of heart and decided he wanted to be a part of Trunks’ life, she was more than alright with that too.
Bulma sighed as she took in the warmth of the hot water; it was exactly what she needed but she decided she should get out and check in the lab to make sure that everything with all of her friends was still okay. With Goku out of the fight, who knew how things were going. If any of them called her for any reason, she needed to make sure she was available.
You said you were going to remain on the sidelines from now on, she sternly reminded herself as she drew figure eights in the water contemplating it. “Yea, for the next one I will, but until then, I need to help them in any way that I possibly can so our future doesn’t turn out the same as what that boy said it would.” she said determinedly, draining her tub and getting out. It was only late afternoon, who knew what had transpired between now and when she’d left. Maybe she could find something on Dr. Gero’s research and on the androids themselves that could be of some help. She knew the chances of that were slim to none being that Dr. Gero had been very reclusive and almost non-existent the past few decades, but with any luck, maybe she could find something that would be of some use.
Bulma dried herself off and dressed herself in a comfortable top and pants. Trunks was still fast asleep but she carefully bundled him up and headed towards the lab with her, not surprised that he didn’t so much as stir. Poor little guy, she thought to herself, giving him a soft kiss on the head as she went.
Even if she and Vegeta had no future together, she would do everything in her power to help everyone out. If for no other reason, Trunks deserved a future.
“Bulma, I’m glad I found you,” her father greeted her as she walked through the kitchen. “I need you to take a look at this,” he said, placing a picture on the kitchen table.
“What is it?” she asked, studying the picture for a minute. It was an old looking machine covered in moss and dirt.
“Not sure,” her father shrugged. “Someone called to let us know that they found it because it has the Capsule Corporation logo on it but I’m sure it’s not one of our products. Does it ring a bell to you?”
“Hmmm,” she hummed. It looked vaguely like the machine that boy from the future who claimed to be her son had travelled in but how could that be? “I’m not sure,” she said to her father. “Let me talk to the guy to see what other information I can get for him and then let me make a few calls. This definitely isn’t one of ours, but I might know where it came from.”
Bulma took the information her father already had written down and went back upstairs to her room. She had some investigating to do and she had a strange feeling the only person who would be able to give her any answers was the older version of her son from the future who had saved her and Trunks. It was still strange to her to think that the small baby in her arms and that boy were the same person.
“Still, at least he’ll grow up to be polite, well-mannered, he got more of my looks than Vegeta’s and none of Vegeta’s personality,” she shrugged in satisfaction, putting Trunks back into his crib. Bulma picked up her phone to call the guy who discovered this strange object. “I’m going to need a glass of wine,” she sighed as she heard the phone ring on the other end, waiting for someone to answer.
-0-0-0-
Vegeta saw her as she passed him in the hallway with a sleeping Trunks and scowled at her. She was the last person he wanted to see, let alone talk to and that was saying a lot, considering all the Z warriors had decided to congregate at Capsule Corporation to wait for news on the specifics of this tournament that Cell wanted to hold. At least those idiots had the wherewithal to leave him alone for the most part.
Bulma must have felt the same about not wanting to talk to him either, he figured as she shot him an equally cool look and quickly retreated back to her bedroom, making certain he heard her close the door behind her.
Good, he snorted and made his way back down to the kitchen to try and scrounge up a meal. He was hungry and couldn’t remember when the last time was that he had eaten. He carelessly began rummaging through the fridge, grabbing everything and anything without much thought.
“Well look at you,” she sneered at him, not even trying to hide her feelings of animosity towards him as she strolled into the kitchen, however she made sure to keep her voice down so that the other Z fighters wouldn’t hear her. She initially wasn’t going to even bother speaking with him but after she’d slammed the door at him in the hallway a few minutes ago and got no reaction from him, she decided she needed to speak with him about what had happened whether it was a good idea or not.
Vegeta turned and scowled at her. He had been so absorbed in his own thoughts he hadn’t noticed her approaching. He had assumed she had gone to bed.
“So? Did you win and beat everyone?” she asked, her tone laced with sarcasm. He knew she would know by now that he had gotten his ass kicked royally by both Android 18 and Perfect Cell. “Oh, that’s right, you didn’t. You didn’t beat anyone, did you?”
He just continued to glare at her, wishing she would just go away and leave him alone. He’d beaten one of the androids but he didn’t even have the energy to bring that up and dispute her claim that he hadn’t beaten anyone. He didn’t give a shit what she thought.
“You look splendid by the way,” she commented sarcastically, looking him over critically. “There’s fresh flight suits and armour in your bedroom in the closet.”
“Hmmn,” he grunted. He knew he looked like shit and didn’t appreciate her biting tone and sarcasm. “I am only here for a shower, a meal and a few hours of sleep and then I’m leaving to train more for this tournament Cell is putting on. That is the only reason why I am here.”
“As always,” she snorted bitterly. “Well go on then, I wouldn’t want to keep you. Trunks and I are just fine by the way, thanks for asking and checking in on us.”
Vegeta shot her a nasty look in response. “I can see that. Hopefully you learned something from that little incident.” he replied coolly taking great satisfaction at the hurt look she shot his way before turning away and exiting the kitchen, leaving him alone.
She had to help her father repair that android anyway. Arguing with Vegeta would have to wait.
Of course he cared that both she and the brat had very nearly been killed. He kept telling himself after it had happened that he didn’t care and that she had it coming for being so stupid as to make an appearance, never mind the annoyance he felt over her blatantly disrespecting his wishes on behalf of her own safety and the safety of their son. Despite telling himself he didn’t care, the incident instead had shaken him up deeply and it bothered him every time he thought about it and replayed it in his mind over and over again.
He had frozen in the moment and he was not sure how he felt about that. On one hand, it was unacceptable as a warrior of his calibre to simply freeze and not react to a situation but on the other, by not reacting he had spared himself the humiliation he would have felt knowing that the other warriors would have seen him nearly breaking his neck to save his family. That meant acknowledging that he possibly cared about them somewhat and he wasn’t ready for that just yet, never mind being alright with them knowing that he might.
Those other weakened low class warriors all thought that they were better than him. They all assumed that he only cared about himself and no one else, which was true. He didn’t care one iota about any of them, the inhabitants of this planet, or even the planet itself and he was alright with them thinking that. It meant they kept their distance from him and that was exactly how he preferred it.
However, as much as he tried denying it, he did care about the woman and her child. It was a new and foreign feeling to him that even he knew he hadn’t properly addressed to figure out what that meant for him and how he was supposed to act. What he did know was he had been so angry with her for still showing up on the battlefield with Trunks that the moment the explosion happened, he hadn’t cared. Serves her right, or something along those lines had been the only thought that had gone through his mind until Future Trunks had confronted him over why he hadn’t even attempted to save them.
Instead of eating a bit of humble pie and apologizing for the lapse or admitting that he had been wrong to do nothing, he had lied and cruelly said that he had better things to do than worry about the safety of that foolish woman and her blasted child, was what he had said. He winced now slightly at that cutting remark and what disturbed him somewhat was when he’d said it, he’d meant it.
He had completely alienated himself from her and the adult version of his son. So be it, he shrugged as he finished his meal. It is better that way anyway. I do not need them.
Vegeta left all the dirty dishes on the table for someone else to clean up as he went to his room for a hot shower and a quick power nap before deciding whether or not he was leaving for good after beating Cell or not.
“What was that about?” Krillin asked him as he walked out of the kitchen.
“Mind your business,” Vegeta snarled at him as he passed him in the hall.
“Look, I know we’re not exactly friends, but I think Bulma is a little bit upset by what happened in her air car,” Krillin pressed, knowing it was probably not in his best interests. “I’m not judging you, just warning you that you know what they say about a woman spurned?”
“Hmmn,” he grunted.
“Ya, well then there’s a Bulma spurned and that’s a whole different ballgame altogether,” Krillin chuckled. “Believe you me, Yamcha wrote the book on that one and being in Bulma’s doghouse.”
“What difference does it make to you or that idiot weakling?”
“None, really, just warning you that if you are planning to stay here after this thing with Cell that she’s going to probably make your life a living hell for a while,” Krillin cautioned. “In all honesty, I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes at the moment.”
Vegeta snarled and closed the door to his bedroom, ignoring Krillin and his council altogether. She already makes my life a living hell, what else is new?
A couple of hours later, Vegeta was washed, dressed and feeling somewhat rested. He didn't feel as good as he’d hoped and knew he should take a little longer before leaving but he wanted to get out of Capsule Corporation as quickly as possible.
He crept quietly down the hallway, not wanting to attract the attention of the woman. He had nothing to say to her. Thoughts of Trunks flashed in his mind and he paused a moment. Should he go see him before leaving? No, he told himself as he kept walking.
He wasn’t cut out to be a father, so why pretend now? Spending time with Future Trunks in the hyperbolic time chamber had proved that. Yes they had managed to forge some sort of relationship but it had only been because the boy so desperately had wanted to. Vegeta couldn’t have cared less and only hoped the boy would leave him alone the remainder of his time here.
Ten days, he told himself. He had ten days to train and improve and he would. He would deal with Cell himself and show all these low class warriors what he was capable of.
-0-0-0-
It had been three months since the Cell Games.
Vegeta hadn’t left his room since Future Trunks had left this timeline. Initially, he had decided on leaving this miserable planet altogether. What was here for him anymore? Nothing, he told himself. Absolutely nothing.
As he had been preparing to leave, thoughts of Trunks had begun to plague him again. Should he remain here and get to know the child that would eventually grow up to be the man he had interacted with during his brief time here in this timeline? No, he’d told himself. He had nothing to offer the boy. It was best he leave now while he was still an infant and likely had no memory or knowledge him at all.
Except something was telling him to stay.
He hadn’t realized how much the boy meant to him until Cell had killed him.
It frightened him.
He would have denied it until he was blue in the face that Trunks meant absolutely nothing to him. He wasn’t his son. Maybe he was his son in another timeline, but that wasn’t this timeline. Therefore he felt no obligation to the boy. Until he had been killed. It had been one of the most traumatic events of his life.
He had seen and been around death from as far back as he could remember and never had the sight of anyone’s death shaken him so deeply as when he’d witnessed Trunks’ death. He could barely even remember it now but he had gone into a blind rage in his reaction to it.
It was disgraceful. He had been nothing more than a liability in that battle.
What good had he done himself or any of them? None. Cell had only toyed with him for a few minutes and that had been that.
For whatever reason, his feelings of shame over failing the future version of his son so horribly seemed to be the only reason why he stayed here, but yet he could not bring himself to venture out of his room and go see the boy.
Vegeta sighed, dismissing his thoughts of shame and disappointment in himself and decided that he needed to get up and eat something. He had been holed up in this room for several days now and he was so hungry even he couldn’t ignore his stomach’s objections anymore to being left empty and neglected.
While a part of him had no desire to eat and no real appetite, he knew he had to put something into his system as he stood up and felt the floor move beneath him as though it were being pulled out from beneath his feet.
He braced the wall a moment to regain his equilibrium and closed his eyes. Getting up as quick as he had had been a bad idea and he put a hand on his face, leaning forward just a bit, still bracing the wall as he tried to remember the last time he was this disoriented from lack of nutrition, trying to think of anything to distract himself from the feeling of vertigo and nausea from an empty stomach and dehydration.
The last time he felt this way was because Frieza had taken away his dining privileges and rations. He had starved him for several weeks from what he could remember. What had he done to merit that? He tried to think back, anything to distract himself from feeling as horrible as he did right now.
He began to panic as he felt his heart palpating rapidly. He remembered he had been without food for so long that time that he’d gotten some viral infection that had left him ill for weeks afterwards because his immune system had shut down. On top of that, he’d nearly had a heart attack he had been so weakened by the ordeal. Being that a Saiyan’s metabolism was so rapid, it didn’t take long for the body to burn through any and all reserves and once the first few lines of defence were used up, it was a steady, rapid decline after that. From his time on Earth, he had learned that a human could out live a Saiyan if cut off from food.
Now feeling that palpating of his heart despite knowing it hadn’t been that long since he had eaten last, it shook him up somewhat. He knew it was probably all in his head because he was remembering it but still, he knew that he needed some kind of sustenance.
How long has it been, he asked himself as he sat back down. The dizziness and disorientation wasn’t going away. It cannot be any longer than a few days. Not weeks like last time.
Last time he’d had no food for maybe four or five weeks he suspected. His water had been cut off two weeks into his food deprivation. He couldn’t remember why though. Why had Frieza done that? It wasn’t until Zarbon and Dodoria had gone to Frieza on his behalf because he was in the med bay after minor heart failure that Frieza had relented and allowed him to receive his usual rations again. It had taken him another three weeks to recover from a viral infection and begin regaining his former strength.
He must have been in a really bad state that Zarbon and Dodoria had intervened. They’d hated him. Not even Nappa and Raditz had been able to remedy the situation and from what he remembered if they were caught sneaking him anything they themselves would be cut off as well and made to suffer the same as he was.
That was it! He thought to himself as it all came back to him. They had been on a planet that Frieza had wanted for its desirable agricultural traits and Raditz the idiot had not only scorched more than half of the planet’s surface area, thereby destroying the crops but he had blown up many of their storage reserve facilities as well so they had next to nothing to bring back with them to Frieza’s ship.
Needless to say, Frieza had been a little more than pissed off. Because Vegeta was the commanding officer, as usual, he had to take the fall for any mistakes that were made whether they were his fault or not. He had been young at that time. Maybe 19? It had been one of his first missions from what he recalled.
“Fucking useless worm,” he muttered under his breath as he attempted to stand up again only slowly this time.
He still felt a tad disoriented, but he could manage. Skipping taking a shower, he promptly headed down the stairs and into the kitchen to see what kind of meal he could scrounge up. Fortunately for him, the woman’s mother almost always had an abundance of food prepared and set aside.
He rummaged through the fridge and found a casserole dish that was half finished and grabbed it, not caring about what kind of casserole it was, nor did he attempt to warm it up. It was a start and his stomach was growling loudly at the mere sight and smell of food.
Bulma happened to walk into the kitchen just as he sat down and began to dig into the cold leftovers.
“Wow, so the walking dead do exist,” she said sarcastically as she saw him. “What, did your bottomless stomach wake you from your endless slumber?”
Vegeta continued to eat, not even pausing to acknowledge her.
“You know that would taste a whole lot better if you warmed it up, right?”
He simply grunted, not caring.
Bulma sighed at his rudeness as she went to the fridge to see what she could make for herself. It was late afternoon so she didn’t want to eat too much or she wouldn't be hungry come dinner time. She settled on making a sandwich and began taking out sliced meat, cheese and a few other condiments.
As she started, she looked over her shoulder at Vegeta, who was scraping the bottom of the casserole dish trying to make sure he’d gotten every last morsel of the casserole.
“Would you like a sandwich or will that tide you over until dinner?” she asked begrudgingly, not wanting to be nice to him but unable to refrain. She knew that half of a lasagne casserole wouldn’t put even a dent in his appetite. Especially since she knew he hadn’t eaten or even left his room in almost a whole week.
“Yes,” he replied.
Of course he does, Bulma sighed and handed him her sandwich.
He didn’t thank her or say anything, just ate it as soon as he took it from her.
Bulma made three more sandwiches; two for Vegeta and one for herself before putting everything away and snagging two bottles of water for them.
“I’m not sure what mom is making for dinner but you know you’re welcome to join us, right?”
Again, he said nothing, just continued to eat his sandwiches in a steady, determined fashion.
“Whatever, I don’t know why I even bother with you. It’s not like you’re royalty you're more like a pain in the ass DP than anything else,” she sighed in frustration under her breath as she got up to leave. If he wasn’t going to make the effort, neither would she.
“What was that?”
“I said you are a pain in the ass DP!” she repeated louder. “What, you can’t hear me? Maybe you need your ears checked.”
“What the fuck is a DP?” he snarled at her.
Bulma shrugged. “You,” she spat taking great satisfaction that he had no clue what she had just called him.
Of course, this only infuriated him even more as his mind went through a mental rolodex of crude insults, though he couldn’t grasp the meaning behind it. “I am not!”
Bulma, instead of feeling fear from the menacing look he was giving her, began to laugh almost hysterically. “Well, if the shoe fits...” she giggled hilariously at him.
“I do not take kindly to being mocked,” he said dangerously, getting up from his seat and approaching her threateningly.
“Well here’s a news flash for you, buddy,” she snapped, absentmindedly taking a few steps back from him. “You don’t really take kindly to much of anything!”
Vegeta glared at her. “It is difficult to take kindly to much of anything when a demon woman such as yourself is constantly around.”
“Well then go off and find someplace else to live and someone else’s heard earned resources and facilities to destroy and harass because I’m tired of it! This is a home and a place of business, not some fucking DP camp to house every lost cause out there.”
There it was, that term she called him again that he assumed was derogatory in nature. It bothered him that she had the upper hand in this argument because he did not know what DP meant.
“What was that, dear?” Mrs. Briefs asked, waltzing into the kitchen.
“Nothing, mom,” she sighed in annoyance but a part of her was relieved her mother had shown up when she did. Vegeta looked like he was about to throttle her and for whatever reason, she just could not stop prodding at him and resist making him angrier than he already was.
“Who is housing lost causes, dear?” her mother asked. “You can let them know that we have plenty of space and accommodations for anyone who needs a safe place to stay for a little while. I still kind of miss those green people who stayed with us for a while a few years back.”
Not wanting to miss the golden opportunity to possibly make Bulma look bad in front of her mother, Vegeta turned and looked at the attractive older woman. “She was referring to me as a lost cause and that this compound is her home and not a DP camp.”
“Bulma! What a terrible thing to say about any of our house guests, past or present,” her mother scolded her. “I thought your father and I raised you to have more compassion and kindness than that.”
“I was referring to Vegeta as a DP, not the Nameks,” she defended herself, shooting a dirty look at Vegeta who was grinning gleefully at her. “What happened to the Nameks wasn’t their fault and Vegeta was partially to blame if you care to remember that part of the story. He destroyed villages and killed a bunch of them too.”
“All the same dear, that’s a terrible thing to call someone. I’m sure it’s not Vegeta’s fault either that he has no other place to call home besides here. You should show him a little more kindness than that,”
“He doesn’t even know what it means,” she snorted dismissively. It drove her crazy how her mother always took Vegeta’s side, never giving her the benefit of the doubt.
“That’s even worse, dear. You should be ashamed of yourself!”
“Would somebody tell me what the hell a DP is already?” Vegeta demanded irritably, fed up with being the only one who had no idea what they were discussing but was apparently at the centre of being both mocked and defended.
Bulma looked at her mother. “You can tell him,” she snipped. “Since you’re the one always valiantly defending him.”
Mrs. Briefs uncharacteristically sighed in annoyance at her daughter’s childishness. She simply could not understand why those two were always at each other’s throats. She knew that they’d had a short lived affair a while back. She wasn’t sure why it hadn’t worked out; in Mrs. Briefs mind, they were perfectly suited for one another. Not to mention they had given her the most adorable grandson anyone could wish for. She only wanted them to get their act together and settle down and hopefully in a little while she would have another little grand baby to spoil and fawn over. With any luck, maybe it would be a little girl who looked as gorgeous as Bulma with beautiful blue hair or maybe a striking little beauty with dark features the same as Vegeta.
Mrs. Briefs sighed inwardly to herself. At this rate, that was never going to happen.
“A DP stands for Displaced Person,” she finally said to Vegeta.
“Meaning what?” he asked impatiently. That didn’t sound so bad.
“Well, it’s somewhat complicated and covers a vast meaning of a few different scenarios, but essentially a displaced person refers to someone that was forced to leave their home,” she clarified. “Usually in the case of victims of war, a group of people are removed from their native country and placed elsewhere as refugees, political prisoners or slave labourers in some cases. The term Displaced Person is considered derogatory in nature since after the Second World War with the immigration of many Europeans heading to the United States and Canada after Hitler destroyed everything.”
Vegeta shot Bulma such an icy look that immediately made her regret having her mother tell him what the phrase meant and she looked at the floor in shame. When had she become so mean?
He looked at her in disbelief. Sure, he supposed he fit into the category Mrs. Briefs had just described; it was what it was, but Bulma knew what a sensitive topic it was for him the destruction of his people, home and his being forced to work for Frieza as a child slave warrior all the way into his late 20’s; he was essentially a slave and still would be if he hadn’t embarked on his mission to this miserable planet in an effort to break away from all of that.
True, he still felt nothing but animosity towards Kakarott and the way his life had turned out in general. His life seemed to have no purpose or direction anymore now that the Planet Trade Organization was no more; sometimes that bothered him and sometimes it didn’t and he just liked being able to kick back and have a decent nights rest and a good meal without having to constantly be looking over his shoulder.
That she would take his situation and make fun of it in such an insulting and derogatory manner hurt him more deeply than he knew it should have and that alone gave him pause for thought as to why he would feel hurt over something that came out of her foul mouth. Out of all the insults and abusive speech she’d thrown back at him, this was quite possibly the worst thing she had ever said to him and he was so thrown off, he was hard pressed to have anything to say in retaliation to her.
Bulma chanced a glance at him and the moment their eyes met, she knew she’d gone too far this time. She actually felt bad for making fun of him over something so terrible.
Vegeta did not say another word and promptly exited the kitchen as quickly as possible to place as much space between that viper-mouthed woman and himself before he did something he knew that he would regret.
She stamped her foot on the floor in frustration. For the first time ever, she had one upped Vegeta in one of their verbal spars and left him speechless. That never happened! Instead of crowing in victory over getting one on him, she actually felt bad that she had said something that actually hurt him.
“Now look what you’ve gone and done,” Mrs. Briefs reprimanded her daughter. “Honestly, Bulma, I cannot believe you sometimes.”
Bulma ignored her mother and left the kitchen to go outside after Vegeta. Once again, she questioned herself. What is wrong with me?
“Vegeta wait a minute. I didn’t mean-”
“Just leave me alone, you fucking bitch,” he snarled, appearing in front of her suddenly, shoving her against the wall; his hand on her throat threateningly. “If you know what is good for you.”
“I’m sorry, I-”
“Bullshit,” he spat. “You are only sorry because I called you out in front of your mother.”
Bulma didn’t reply. He was right; if her mother hadn’t walked in on their conversation when she had, she’d have dragged the insult out and thrown it at him for weeks at every possible opportunity she could, revelling in the knowledge that he didn’t know the meaning behind it. That was why it was funny. The actual meaning behind it wasn’t, just taunting him over something that he didn’t know was enough for her and why she’d run with it.
“I was more making fun of the fact that you didn’t know what it meant rather than the literal meaning behind it, Vegeta,” she admitted, though she knew it was weak.
He let her go a moment later before turning away from her altogether without another word.
“Oh come on Vegeta. If the roles were reversed, you’d have taken great delight with taunting me over something I didn’t know the meaning behind. You’d have dragged it out for weeks and then laugh at me over it!”
He snorted. She was right, and he knew that. He would have done the exact same thing to her. That didn’t make him feel any less hurt that she would laugh at something so horrible that had happened to him. Once again, she knew how bitter he was still over losing out on everything that he had been destined to have.
“Consider yourself fortunate that I consider you as not worth the effort to dismember and leave me alone,” he said and took off into the air before the desire to tear her apart over ran the common sense dictating that he refrain from doing such a thing.
“Yea, just go! That’s what you’re good at!” she shouted after him, not taking the moment to realize and appreciate how close to death she had actually come this time. Bulma stood outside watching his retreating form until she couldn’t see him anymore before heading back into the house.
“You know, you catch a lot more flies with honey than with vinegar, dear,” her mother chided her.
“Thanks, mum,” she sighed, rolling her eyes as she walked through the kitchen towards the fridge hoping to scrounge something more to tide her over until dinner.
“I mean really, Bulma,” her mother shook her head. “You know that boy has been through an awful lot. I don’t know specifics, but it’s written all over him that he hasn’t lived an easy life. Why do you work so hard to make him despise you?”
“I don’t work at making him despise me!” she argued back.
“Yes, you do,” her mother insisted, stopping what she was doing and turning to look at her daughter. “You share a son together for crying out loud, Bulma. Can you not set aside whatever feelings of animosity you have towards him so you can both raise him together? Forget that I think you two would be really good for each other because what do I know, right? But for a moment, can you think of that poor, sweet little boy you both created and attempt to get along with him? He may be troubled, but he’s a decent young man.”
Bulma sighed, simply taking a beer from the fridge and closing the refrigerator door harder than it needed to be. If only you knew that ‘decent young man’ would have preferred to let me and your precious grandson die without even batting an eye, she bit her tongue back wanting so badly to spill that crucial piece of information to her and let her chew on that for a day or two. As angry as Bulma still was over that, she couldn’t bring herself to reveal it. Why not? She asked herself. Because his reaction was partially your own damn fault, she argued back to herself.
“Whatever, mum,” she sighed again and making a beeline for the door. “Trust me, he’s only here for the free food and accommodations. Once something better comes along, that will be the last we ever see or hear from him. Son or no son.”
“Well don’t give him a chance to find something more worthwhile,” her mother countered as she shook her head at her own daughter.
Bulma pretended to not hear her and continued upstairs to her room to check on Trunks. What was she going to do about Vegeta?
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