Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Sing No Songs ❯ Goodbye Bulma ( Chapter 4 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Chapter four

The sun was sinking beneath the horizon in a shower of gold. The last rays lit up the whole western sky and set the stray clouds on fire.

Vegeta was oblivious to the brilliant view outside the window. His whole being was focused on Bulma. He observed her every breath and kept a close watch over the calm waters of her mind.

Suddenly, Vegeta was on his feet and gripped the frame of the bed. He leaned over Bulma, almost as if he was sniffing her prone form.

Something was happening. A ripple went through her resting mind, the calm waters was disturbed. She did not move a muscle, but to Vegeta it seemed like her whole body had started to jerk and thrash. He began to feel a dull ache behind his right eye. She was in pain, he felt the pain clearly, but he also felt something else. Something that made his throat contract, his eyes widen with a sense of admiration: He felt a great effort in her, a relentless gathering of will. He leaned even closer.

"Dad, what's happening?"

Bra was standing beside him. How long she had been there, he did not know.

"She's waking up", he murmured.

Bulma was waking up, perhaps more fully than she had in weeks, or in years. Spaces and corridors that he had thought forever lost were gradually illuminated once again, until the bright vitality of her mind was nearly restored.

She opened her eyes.

---

Bra was walking down the hallway, taking long unsteady strides. With every step all she wanted to do was to sag down on her knees and weep. Memories were tumbling through her head with a clarity that made them appear almost like visions, blinding in their intensity.

| Her mother, cheerful and laughing. |

| Bulma, pulling a comb through her silky hair, smiling down at her daughter. |

| Laying the comb aside. Picking the child up. |

| Holding her tight. |

| Bulma, waving merrily at the departing car. Bra, twisting in the seat, waving back through the rear window. |

Mother...!

| This is goodbye. |

---

"She's awake," Bra said with numb, blood-less lips.

Trunks stood up at once, slight alarm on his face. Gohan also followed as she, without saying another word, turned and started to walk back to Bulma's room.

Silently they stepped up to the large bed.

Her eyes were striking, completely calm, and blue like the deepest part of the summer sky. All life seemed to have focused in those eyes, her face totally relaxed. Bulma looked from one person to the next, perhaps she saw them, perhaps not.

"Mom," Bra said, lightly taking Bulma's hand. She sobbed loudly when she felt her mother's fingers move and slowly squeeze down on her own.

"Bra." Bulma's voice was little above a whisper.

Once again her eyes moved between the four people standing by the side of her bed. This time there was no doubt that she registered their presence. Her face was open and alert.

"Gohan," she breathed. "How good of you to come."

"Anytime, Bulma," Gohan said, his voice husky.

Bulma closed her eyes and for a short moment her face twisted as if from pain. She took a large shuddering breath and opened her eyes again.

"I have been sick, haven't I?" she said vaguely.

There was a deep silence in the room before Gohan answered.

"Yes. You have been ill."

"I dreamt..." She faltered. "I was dreaming..."

Suddenly, her face was filled with alarm.

"Vegeta? Vegeta?" Her inquiry was interlaced with urgency.

"I'm here," Vegeta immediately answered. His voice was calm, soothing.

"Good," Bulma said, reassured at once. Almost indifferently, she added, "You'll behave when I'm gone, won't you?"

"I promise."

"I dreamt..." she started again. Her eyelids slowly started to droop.

"I'm tired", Bulma said abruptly. "You can all leave me now."

This was greeted by a stunned silence. Bra broke it with a short laugh that sounded as if it had been ripped from her throat against her will.

"Alright, Mom." She leaned down and kissed Bulma on her cheek. "We'll let you rest."

Trunks too, bent down and pressed his lips to his mother's soft cheek.

"Goodnight, Mom," he whispered.

Bulma closed her eyes. She sighed.

A few moments passed and then she opened her eyes once again.

"Are you still here?" This time her voice was strong and interlaced with impatience. "I told you I was going to rest now."

Bulma then turned to Vegeta, dismissing the others entirely. She smiled, a smile full of affection and kindness.

"Vegeta," she sighed. "Come to bed, honey."

Ignoring the stares directed at him, Vegeta lifted the sheets and crawled into the bed. He lay down close to her, his back to the others, and wrapped one arm around her fragile body.

"Come. Let's leave them alone," Gohan whispered. Trunks and Bra both nodded.

Silently, they exited the room.

---

Bra and Trunks were alone in the heartless reality of the kitchen. Bra leaned back, her warm hands pressed against the refrigerator door. Trunks was standing by the sink, slowly drinking a glass of water.

"Should we really leave them alone like that?" Trunks said tentatively and fiddled with the empty glass he was holding.

"Yes, I think so," Bra replied. Her expressive face was filled with doubt. She added, though, and with much more conviction: "It felt right."

The image of their parents as she had last seen them suddenly flashed before her eyes and with it come the strangest sense of foreboding.

"Trunks..." she started, trying to form her dark feeling into words. "I'm scared. It's like we're losing them both."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm not sure, it's just..." She stood silent for a moment. When she continued, her voice held an angry, almost accusative tone. "Aren't you worried about what this might do to Dad? What's he going to do with his life when she's gone?"

Trunks looked at her, a bit taken aback.

"I haven't really thought about it," he admitted. "I just, you know, assumed that he would continue on as normal."

"Continue on as normal! You talk as if he would just shrug it off."

"So what you're saying is that father might... what? Die out of grief?" He sounded like that was the most ludicrous thing he could imagine.

"Perhaps I am", she snapped back. "He's not as strong as you think, Trunks. In some ways he's really quite sensitive."

"Sorry, sis," Trunks said, shaking his head. "I know you love him, but you're delusional. The man's about as sensitive as a block of granite."

Bra straightened from her leaning position and walked aimlessly to the table and back. She hated the tension in the room, but felt that however hard the conversation was, she had to continue.

"You know how Dad is," she finally said. "He detests anything he perceives as a weakness, particularly in himself. Shouldn't the fact that he so rarely talks about himself or his feelings tell us something?"

"He thinks ordinary human sentiment is a weakness", Trunks said harshly. "So what else is new?"

"You're missing the point!" Bra took a deep breath to calm down. "Daddy is awfully smart, smarter then anyone I know. Whatever weakness he's hiding, it must be very real."

"I'm not even sure he cares. He never had a loving word..."

"Trunks!" she interrupted. "Big brother... dearest... STUFF your bitterness! This isn't about you."

"I was talking about mother!" He sounded defensive, but also unhappy. Like a small boy that was unfairly accused.

"He loves her." All anger was suddenly gone from her voice. "I know he does. He maybe never showed it openly when we were kids, but now, when she really needs him, he has truly been there for her. He hasn't left her side for a minute and he has done everything to make it easier for her. She's more important to him then anything else, can't you see that?"

"He did stop training so he could take care of her," Trunks admitted. He was nodding slightly, not fully agreeing with his sister, but he was starting to accept some of the things she was saying.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Sometimes I need things spelled out for me, if you know what I mean."

She smiled sadly and moved into his arms. They held each other in silence, both glad for the support.

"Things aren't going to continue on as normal, are they," Trunks finally said. "Whatever happens, everything will change."

"Yeah." Her voice was the merest whisper against his chest. "Everything is changing."

---

Vegeta laid with his eyes closed. He felt Bulma's soft hair against his lips. He felt the slight movement of her body as she was breathing. He was breathing in the same rhythm as her, feeling her thoughts, her pain, her fear. And he tried, tried, tried to make things easier for her.

What is happening to me? Her thought was as clear as if she was speaking it out loud. It was clearer.

You were going to sleep. Remember? He did his best to convey reassurance and calmness, but it was hard. Go to sleep. I will not leave you.

Perhaps she responded. Perhaps she was calmed. But then the pain was back, stronger then ever, and with it came wave upon wave of anguish and fear.

This is wrong! Something feels wrong! What is wrong with me!?

She could not hear him. She could not hear him trying to comfort her.

Barriers.

No barriers.

He let it all down. No last reservations.

He entered her mind.

Pain. This was no ordinary pain. This was the heart being wrenched by its root. This was every cell in the body grinding to a final halt. This was the soul screaming, yes howling, in denial. Always a fighter, he thought. Never to give up. But, Bulma. This is when you should give up. Please. Please. Just this once.

Darkness. A child was crying in the dark. Protect me, she sobbed. Why am I being punished? Make it go away. He tried, but he could not even reach her. There was a wail in the air. A young woman screamed, he saw her, knew her, tried to take her in his arms. And she was angry, screaming: Do something! Do something! Don't just stand there! Can't you see I'm in pain! Vegeta! Vegetavegetavegetavegetavegetavegetavegeta. A wail in the air.

Silence. He was kneeling by an old woman lying on her back, wearing a thin, white nightgown. Ancient, she was. All characteristics to mark her distinctly as a woman was washed away by time. She was just a human being, with a gentle smile and bottomless sky-blue eyes. Beautiful. She grabbed his hand, attempting to comfort, he realized. She. Comfort him. Do not worry, he thought he heard her say. I will protect the child.

Peace. They fell asleep together, his arm around her, his lips touching her hair.~

---

Bra opened her eyes. She rose from the couch where she had been nodding off and looked out of the window. It was the middle of the night, she could see the stars clearly. It seemed very cold outside, the window glittered as if covered in frost.

She walked down the hallway, her fingertips trailing the wall. Everything was so silent, so still.

When the came to her parents' room she stood in the darkness for a long moment before she reached for the light-switch.

They were both dead. Certainty hit her stomach and froze her in place, one hand on the light-switch, the other reaching for something, anything.

Bulma lay on her back. Her eyes were closed and her mouth had fallen open. No doubt. She was gone. Vegeta was turned toward Bulma, with one arm around her midsection and his chin resting against her shoulder.

He drew a breath. Bra could see it now. Her father's black-clad back was slowly moving with every new breath. He was not dead.

Vegeta was fast asleep.