Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Finding Peace ❯ See Thru All ( Chapter 40 )

~~~~```` Chapter-- See thru All

But if you had told me when I was much younger
That life has a way of pulling you right under
I wouldn't be standing here preaching my hate
I stand at the edge staring into my fate --Staind

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Bulma watched her husband with sad eyes as he slowly used a sponge over her legs, washing up and down her thighs. He refused to look at her letting the warm water splash over her soapy feet and legs. "Vegeta, talk to me. Why are you so mad at Trunks?"

"Leave it alone, Onna." He snapped, pulling the plug on the tub, lifting his soaked but clean mate from the water, keeping watch of her swollen breast as he gently set her down at the towels on the bed, flipping them over her before going the closet and fishing out her pajamas.

"Vegeta you haven't talk to him in three days. It is driving him insane not to mention the fact even more depressed then he all ready is."

"Good." He mumbled dropping her clothes on her, taking a seat beside her and patting her dry before slipping her pants up her legs and grabbing the towel out from under her. He moved to her upper body, carefully wiping the wetness around her wound before helping her sit up and carefully slipping on her night shirt, propping her arm up on a pillow to keep away from her painful injury. She gripped his hand before he could get up.

"Is it really that bad?"

He ripped his hand away, "Yes."

"Then talk to him."

"Sleep, woman." He ordered before shutting the door to the bedroom. She sighed in annoyance.

Vegeta made his way down the living room whole, dropping to the ground. His brows knitting finding his son out on the balcony with something white between his fingers. It was smoking? He made sure to ask the woman about it later before looking away pretending not to care as he walked to the kitchen wanting a before-sleep-snack. Why hadn't he gone straight back up that hole he didn't know. Maybe he wanted to speak to his son but what in the hell was he going to say? He didn't know why he was angry. He just was deeply insulted by his son's words and Trunks had only made it worse by coming out on to the balcony and attempted to apologize. If that's what you call what he did.

Vegeta chewed on the sandwich he had just finished making, sitting comfortably in the bar chair as he stared blindly at the counter top, his mind, mindlessly playing him one of many of deaths he had caused to whole races. Vegeta had literally thanked his previous training in mediation for if he wasn't so strong in this category he would have never been able to even get out of bed let alone make love to his mate. It drained him, he'll admit, he couldn't train for long periods of time, slept a lot more then usual. Bulma probably didn't notice the difference but that was only because she was sleeping so much herself.

It was driving him crazy. He needed to be doing something but instead he would find himself napping on the couch in the afternoon after training for a couple of hours. And if that wasn't enough he was getting to bed at ten every night and sleeping past the rising sun. It appeared that he was just lacking in training these past days because of Bulma and he thanked Kami for that excuse but that wasn't it at all. He just couldn't channel his energy evenly for if he were to lay off on his high direct of meditation then his monsters would surely eat him alive.

He needed new medication. There, he admitted it. The medication did help with the nightmares and flashbacks, but he was afraid to start anew for fear that it would affect a performance he had been a genius at for the past thirty years. And he would be damned if his pride were damaged in that area as well.

Vegeta's eyes snapped up to the balcony doors, his son entered the house and instantly he was out of his seat ready to leave but his son called him back. "Dad, please, talk to me. I can't stand this silence anymore." Vegeta sighed in aggravation, however caught something in scent. It was the weirdest kind of smell he had ever experienced and it caused his brows to knit. It wasn't smoke. It wasn't a scent of a female or heat. It was…making him rather dizzy. "Can you at least tell me why you are so mad?" That he couldn't do since Vegeta himself didn't even know why he was doing this. He just felt the need to be mad at the half-breed for his words. Accept it or deny it, it actually hurt.

Vegeta turned his head slightly, getting the image of his son in the corner of his eye. "I may not be good at this father thing or this mate thing. But I try, boy. And whether you want to believe it or not, hate will never be an issue toward my relations. I resent the fact that you ever thought it. And I resent you for saying it." Vegeta floated up through the hole ignoring his son's foul words of failure.

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Vegeta buried his head into the softness of the pillow, his arms wrapped around the cushion as he laid on his stomach. His mate next to him dead tired and fading to dreamland after their gentle excursions of love making that was finally permitted. Her wound was almost healed, the stitches taken out two days ago and now it had been a week since her surgery. This week however would be the beginning of her chemo which he wasn't sure how to deal with it since he didn't know all about it. He would need to look it up on the game box thingy.

His eyes darted up to the clock finding it three in the morning. If he allowed the meditation to seduce him to slumber he more then likely wouldn't rise for five hours. He glanced over at the woman and smirked. She won't be getting up for a while so she wouldn't notice him sleeping in late. Vegeta took a deep sigh, closing his eyes and allowing the walls of transcendental meditation take effect slowly.

Vegeta's head shot up along with his wide eyes as he stared at the door. He took a sniff of the air, frowning at the smell and not knowing what it was. Reluctantly he nudged his mate awake. She groaned in protest but turned to him, "What?"

"The boy's ki dropped."

"Is he dreaming?"

"No." And with that confession the two lovers hurried out of bed, their tiredness suddenly vanished as Bulma wrapped her robe around her and Vegeta pulled on his boxers. Together they made their way hastily out of their bedroom to stand in front of his Trunks' door.

"I know that smell…" Bulma stated but suddenly stalled. Her eyes wide with anger now she gripped the doorknob only to find it locked. Vegeta instantly took it and broke it, pushing the busted door in. Both their mouths dropped open. Trunks sat on his floor his head leaned back against the bed, his knees drawn up so that his arms draped across them and in his hand was held a burning white stick. And all beside him lay an open bag of marijuana and a bong. His head snapped up at the door hitting the back of his wall and instantly his dilated eyes widened in his shock and jumped up to his feet dropping the lit weed.

"Mom. Dad. I…"

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Bulma instantly screamed. Vegeta on the other hand was at a totally loss. But if his mate was mad then sure as hell he was to be mad. He glared at his son.

"I.."

"I can't believe you! Son-of-a-bitch, Trunks! What the fuck is wrong with you! How dare you bring this shit into my home and fuckin'- Damn it, Trunks!" She spun around having not the fight in her to figure out what she wanted to scream about.

Vegeta shocked to find his mate speechless in a ranting, knew this was something big. He turned to his child wanting to smirk at the shiver of fear that past through him, "Get rid of this shit." He snarled before slamming the broken door.

Making his way back to the bedroom, he watched from the doorway as the woman paced back and forth mumbling atrocities to herself. AT any other time he would have found this humorous but something told him this was more serious then not. "Woman--"

Bulma snapped to him and she instantly knew his question, "Do you know what your son was doing!?" She screamed, he said nothing. "He was using drugs, Vegeta! Not the prescription type either! They are illegal drugs that can kill him! These drugs Vegeta to a Sayian will tear away his strength! It will make him weaker then me! That is what these drugs do to Sayian blood! So in a sense your son was killing himself and for what! To get high!? I can assure you that the effect weed has on Sayians is not a buzz effect! He loses control of his actions, of his words. He forgets where he is. And while in such a state his cells are being burned!" Vegeta sensed it even before it happened but was there to catch her before she fell. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, her body begging her sleep but yet she denied. He set her down on the bed. She moaned in disapproval wanting to get back up but Vegeta held her down.

"You are tired, woman. Your body is not yet healed and with the…activity we performed and now this, you cannot handle it. So sleep."

She shook her head once again trying to get up, "I can't Vegeta, I have to talk to Trunks."

"In the morning. You do not even know what you want to say. Sleep and rest and tomorrow you may rant and scream and do what you do best all you want." She giggled in spite of herself however obeying, resting her head in the pillow. Vegeta clicked off the light watching for a moment and making sure she was asleep before he slipped out of the room and down the hall. He found his son's room open, lights all on and Trunks laid face up in the bed staring at the ceiling. Vegeta leaned against the door frame which caught his son's attention and immediately he sat up. They stared at one another for a moment, "Anything to say?"

"Not a damn thing." He whispered lowering himself back down on the bed.

An eyebrow rose. "You've been weird lately. Why?"

"What do you care?"

"Answer boy." Vegeta demanded.

A sigh escaped his lips, "You wouldn't understand."

"You're right. I won't." Vegeta backed out ready to go however stalling only for a moment at his boy's last words.

"I can't take this." He whimpered.

~~~```

Bulma stared straight at her son with a piercing gaze and crossed arms over the breakfast table. Silence filled the Briefs' household this morning though Bra was trying desperately to get the attention on her. She scrambled out of her high chair and quickly went to her mother's lap to gain her eyes but she was suddenly grabbed by her shirt into the air. She hung there for a minute before she turned to see her father's disapproving gaze. She giggled in response reaching out for him. Vegeta eyed the creature but let her push herself into his embrace, crawling up his shoulders to plop on them and play with his hair. Vegeta sighed in aggravation, exiting the kitchen to the playroom to keep his daughter out of harms way so the two could go at it.

Once the door to the playroom shut, Bulma flung from her chair and growled in frustration, pacing back and forth in front of her son. However her anger had much been abide by her night rest, as troubled as it were. Yelling at him would only cause him to get defensive, and him running off. That wasn't something she wanted. She needed to do this calmly. Bulma pulled her chair over to his and sat down beside him. She ran her hands through her blue hair and sighed. Her eyes lifted through her spread out fingers on her face, staring consistently at her son who just had his orbs directed to the uneaten food, his fork mindlessly playing with the eggs.

It was minutes, seemingly hours till Bulma found herself speaking, "What were you thinking?" She questioned in a low whisper. All though he said nothing, not even flinching. "Were you thinking at all?" Bulma leaned back against her chair. "What is this? Some sort of rebellion? I mean you're sixteen, it was bound to happen. But I thought…I thought you were more mature then normal boys your age. I thought since you were the Vice President of the company, finished collage, I thought you would be smarter. Was I foolish to have expectations?" Staring at his hard, unfazed features caused a sigh to reach her lips. "Talk to me."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Anything!" She nearly yelled rising from her chair, "Just say something that makes me know you understand! That you are listening to me! I mean you were doing so fine Trunks. At work, everyone loves you, your grandfather says you're picking up everything so quick. What happened? Is it your father? Is that what's upsetting you?"

"No."

Bulma sat down again, grasping her child's hand trying to get his eyes on her. "What would cause you to use drugs, Trunks? Do you know what those drugs do to you? Do you know that using those kinds of drugs are slowly killing you, each time you inhale? Do you want to die?" She pleaded an answer but his features never changed beside that of his head turning slightly away. "What has gotten you to this state, Trunks? I just don't know what to do."

"Nothing, I'm fine."

"No you're not! If you were fine then you wouldn't be doing drugs!"

Trunks flew from his chair to glare at her, "Everyone does! All the humans do!"

"It's different for you, Trunks! Those drugs slowly kill you!"

"I don't care! And stop telling me I am different! I'm not!…You just…you don't understand." He mumbled before walking away but Bulma moved grasping his arm but he didn't turn around.

"Try me." Trunks yanked his arm away. "You know, you told me to release you from the 'protective bubble' that I always have around you. And the first time I do you turn into this! A druggy!"

Trunks swung around, Bulma stepped back unconsciously of fright from the expression of his face, "You want to know what's wrong, Mom! Nesa's pregnant!" He only stalled for a moment, tears already swelling from his eyes. "She's pregnant. With my baby. And I am terrified."

Bulma had no words at first. She barely heard him after the sound of 'pregnant' breached his lips. Her eyes darted along the ground as if they held the all important advice that would help her obvious desperate son. Her orbs found his blood-shot gaze and for the moment threw the child factor away. Something else was wrong and she needed to know what. "So that is a reason to kill yourself?"

"I cannot be a father! I don't know how! I don't even know that word! My own father is a prime example of what I don't want to be so what am I supposed to do!? I promised myself I would not be a disappointment to my kids but I am too--"

"A disappointment, am I?" Trunks swung around to see his father standing in the doorway, arms crossed and eyes unwavering.

"Dad, I-"

"Save it." He turned round to the playroom again ignoring his child's protest as he went through the sliding doors and blasted off.

Trunks dropped his head into his hands, digging his fingers into his hair trying to ease the frustration and overwhelming regret that was eating at his self-control. Bulma though wanting to sooth her child's needs could not repress her words, "You deserved that. I am so sick of you treating your father like he has been beating you your whole life. I think what your so afraid of is that you will never be as good a man as he is."

"I told you, you wouldn't understand."

"Oh I understand all right. I understand that I was wrong to think you've grown up enough. I understand that I was wrong to think you mature. And I was wrong to think that you are capable of handling the company. You are no longer Vice-president, and you are going back to collage. Maybe there you'll learn some common sense." Bulma turned, stomping to the elevator and after pressing the button she looked back at her depressed child. "You know, your father isn't the one who's a disappointment. It's you." She disappeared behind the elevator door.