Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Sing No Songs ❯ Vulnerable ( Chapter 2 )

Chapter Two

"I'm sorry."

The doctor was talking to Trunks. He glanced briefly at Vegeta, but then dismissed him. No one had bothered to explain the black-haired man's relationship to the patient.

"Your mother's body is shutting down. It's only a matter of days now."

Bulma had been bedridden for a few weeks, with neither strength nor inclination for talking. Vegeta had left her side only when she was sleeping and even then he never left her for long. What the doctor was saying was no news to him. Bulma was close to leaving now, he could feel it. He could feel her presence slowly diminishing, like a tree shedding its leaves one at a time. There were only a few precious ones left.

"Are you sure?" Trunks asked.

"I'm sorry", the doctor said again.

---

Vegeta allowed himself to think ahead for a moment. Soon Bulma would be gone, her bright presence totally snuffed out. He found himself pitifully unprepared.

For a long time, he had sought his definition of himself in her mind. He had used her as a shield against his past; his past madness, his past demons his past self. Often she had bragged that she had changed him, tamed him, even. That had been true as far as he had wanted it to be true. What he never told her was how desperately he had depended upon her once. She had been his island of tranquility, his one shelter when he had most needed it.

Did he still need her? This he asked himself while he was putting dirty sheets in the washing machine. He was going to miss her, of this he had no doubt. His grief was as inevitable as her death. But was it possible that losing her also could make him lose... control. Was it possible that her death could affect him more deeply than he had ever considered?

He sat down on a chair and watched the machine fill up with water as he pondered the question: What would Bulma's death turn him into?

---

Trunks had actually forgotten to call his sister until she herself appeared on the television news as if to remind him. There she was, talking excitedly into a microphone, the wind whipping her short blue hair. She looked very much like Bulma had looked when she was young.

Trunks stared at her, a bit baffled, before he started listening to what she was saying.

"...as yet unconfirmed. But it is no longer any question whether the ship is of extraterrestrial origin or not. The speculations run rampant as of who the aliens are and why they are here. We will be reporting twenty-four hours a day, bringing you the latest on the alien visitors. This is Bra Briefs, East City, ZTV.

To contact Bra was easy. Trunks simply called the ZTV station and they put him through to her. She was talking in a cell-phone so her face did not appear on the screen. He only heard her voice, loud and full of energy.

"Trunks! I knew you would call me!"

"You did?"

"Yes! Isn't it exciting, you couldn't possibly have missed it! There's a big-ass ship floating in the atmosphere right above East City." Words were tumbling out of her. "People are crazy here! Hey, watch it! That car nearly killed me." She laughed.

"Yeah, um, let's talk about that later. I have something bad to tell you."

"What is it, Trunks? What happened?" Suddenly her voice was dead serious.

"It's mother. She's really ill. The doctor... he said that it was only a matter of days now." Despite himself, Trunks felt tears pushing at the back of his throat.

"Oh." Bra was silent for awhile. "I'm coming straight home. This is horrible. How's daddy taking it?"

"I... Not too bad, I guess. Listen, she's getting some good painkillers and she's in absolutely no pain. She looks pretty peaceful actually."

There was an awkward moment as they both tried to think of something to say. Bra was first to break the silence.

"As I said, I'm coming home at once. I'll just quit this job."

"Since when are you a TV-reporter anyway?" Trunks asked curiously.

"Since last week. I met this guy, nothing serious, and he talked me into trying it. Said I had the right looks. Silly, isn't it?"

"I guess. I'll see you soon then."

---

Bulma lay in the bed with her eyes closed. She was not asleep, but she was drifting, her thoughts vague and slow. A while back Vegeta had given her water. He had tried to make her eat some food, but gave up the attempts when she clearly did not want any. Now he just sat there on a chair by the bed and quietly observed her.

Lying on her back like that, her face was rather smooth. Her brow was slightly furrowed, her mouth closed and her hands rested heavily on top of the sheets. She looked solemn, almost stern. Vegeta watched her attentively, and unconsciously his own face was set in the same lines as hers, his mouth solemn, his brow slightly furrowed.

"Daddy?"

Vegeta did not move.

"Dad!"

Slowly Vegeta lifted his eyes from Bulma's still form and saw his daughter standing in the doorway. He gave her a slight nod before his eyes returned to Bulma. His attention had never left the women in the bed.

Bra sat down next to Vegeta and took one of her mother's hands.

"Oh, mom", she said and caressed the limp hand between her own young ones. She blinked and tears ran unabashed down her cheeks. "Mom, can you hear me? It's Bra."

"Let her rest", Vegeta said flatly.

"Of course." Bra let go of Bulmas hand and straightened her back. She wiped her tears away and sighed.

"Are... are you alright, dad?"

She had not really expected an answer and neither did she get any.

They both sat in silence for some time. The only sound in the room was the occasional patter from the rain as a gust of wind blew the drops against the window.

---

Bra moved uneasily on the hard chair. It was now totally dark outside and the only light in the room was the thin beam emanating from the hallway. She suddenly got the dismal feeling that she was alone in the darkened room. Her parents might as well have been silhouettes of statues.

"Dad," she whispered. He did not move and her whispers grew more insistent. "She's asleep. Let's go to the kitchen, I'm hungry."

He turned his head to face her. For a second the light from the hallway was reflected in his eyes and made them glitter like glass.

"Let's go", she said again and stood up. With both hands she grabbed his upper arm and pulled. She knew very well that she could not move him against his will, but after a moment he got up and followed her. They both stopped and blinked in the hallway before their eyes adjusted to the brightness. Bra looked closely at Vegeta for the first time since she had come home. As usual his face was dark and closed. Maybe, she thought, he looked a bit tired. He was barefoot, she noticed, his bare toes looking strangely defenseless against the gray stone floor.

She was still holding his arm, and suddenly it occurred to her that he had lost weight. As always his arm was hard with muscles, but they were slightly less accentuated then she remembered. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it again when he pulled back his arm. For a fleeting moment she thought she saw indecision in his face, before he looked away.

When Bulma was gone he would be completely alone, she realized. She herself was losing her aged mother, but he was losing the woman that for a very long time had been his only companion. Somehow that seemed like the greater tragedy.

She wanted to cry again for the unfairness of it all.

"Come on, dad", she said. "You must be hungry too."

---

Vegeta pushed the plate back. Some of the food was still untouched. As he was not training he did not eat nearly as much as he used to.

He could feel Bra's concerned eyes on him, but she did not say anything.

He still kept part of his attention on Bulma, ready to go to her when she started to wake up. He was tired, but ignored it. There was time enough to sleep later.

The presence of the girl was soothing and it actually made him relax. Her concern, he thought, was not offensive. He gave her a long estimating gaze across the table, a look that she met with a raised eyebrow.

The girl was brave, he mused.

She was no warrior and she had never wanted to be. She did not know how to fight, and like Bulma she wore her heart on her face for all to see.

Vulnerable.

Still, she was fearless.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked.

He almost smiled.

Together they walked to the door and he followed her outside. They both stopped to watch the span of stars in the dark sky above them. The sight was spectacular.

Abruptly she turned to him and pulled him close in a hug. Her arms were around his neck in a vice-like grip and her cheek pressed against his. First he stiffened, but then he relaxed and lowered his head to rest it on her shoulder. It felt good. He hugged her back, just for a moment. Then he pulled away.

Again, her blue eyes were shimmering with tears. But she was also smiling, very slightly.

"Goodnight, daddy", she said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Vegeta followed her straight figure with his eyes as she walked towards the main building. He took a deep breath of the crisp air. The scent of her lingered. It made him remember the affectionate little child that she once had been. After all this time it still felt wrong, and somehow overwhelming, that he had children of his own.

A familiar thought surfaced, and as usual it filled him with a nauseating sense of exhilaration:

I have killed millions.

The stars glittered coldly as he turned his back on them and entered the house again. He could feel Bulma starting to wake up. He did not want her to wake up alone in a dark room.

As he sat down on his chair by her side the unwelcome thought came to him once again.

I have killed millions.

---

"Don't you think we should call someone?" Bra said.

"Like who?" Trunks asked. He was busy organising several piles if papers containing sketches of the next year's budget for the CC Company. He did not like the numbers he read.

"Well, she had quite a few close friends, you know." Bra tapped her index finger to her cheek in a thoughtful manner. "I know it's been awhile, but we should at least call Son Gohan."

"You're right." Trunks put the papers away. "Who else?"

"Levi. Remember how close he was to his grandmother. Besides, I can't wait to meet my little nephew again."

"Not so little anymore", Trunks muttered.

Bra didn't seem to listen. She inhaled sharply and smiled as a thought came to her.

"Actually... I think there're a lot of people we should invite."

She started to pace in a tight circle as she talked excitedly.

"I can't stop thinking about that alien ship. I believe something major is going on. Just turn on the TV and you'll see how worked up everyone is about this. People are hysterical, some talk about war and some behave like God has come to visit. And no one has even seen these aliens yet!"

Bra stopped pacing and assumed a more considering look, a look that did little to hide her excitement.

"There's one thing, though, that the people of Earth doesn't know ..." She whispered dramatically: "There are already half-alien walking amongst them!"

She continued with her normal tone of voice.

"I think it would be a good idea if everyone with Saiyan blood, married to one of us or whatever, would come together and talk. We should make up plans, some common strategy or something like that. What do you think?"

Trunks nodded.

"I think that would be wise. After all, it's been a long time since we all came together. Not since those parties that mother used to arrange..."

"It's settled then. We shall have a family meeting. The Sons and the Briefs'."