Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Price You Pay ❯ Chapter Forty-Nine ( Chapter 49 )

Insert standard disclaimer here.

 

The Price You Pay: Chapter Forty-Nine

 

A week went by and everyday Bulma grew stronger. Her resting ki was no longer as alarmingly low as it had been before her accident. Even the doctor had some trouble explaining how it had all happened. Apparently, though the medical display equipment had been turned off, the machines were still recording biologically what was going on in the tank.

 

After tirelessly going over all the data, the med techs discovered the secret. Though Bulma's heart had stopped beating, her brain was still pulsing with electrical activity. She'd only gone into a light coma. After a few minutes of floating in the tank, Bulma's body had not merely tolerated the Saiya-jin DNA, it had used it and incorporated it into her genome. The regen tank had saved her. Not that Bulma would be going out sparring with the Saiya-jins any time soon, her ki was still too low for that, but her body was now almost as resilient as her son's.

 

It was Trunks. Somehow her pregnancy with the Saiya-jin hybrid had prevented the formation of the antibodies that would cause an adverse reaction to the foreign DNA. She already had the DNA inside her so her immune system didn't recognize the alien genome as, well, alien. In reality, her pregnancy had been more dangerous than being submerged in the regen tank for a few days.

 

Bulma stared at the sleeping baby in her arms. He'd gotten so big. It seemed like everyday she noticed something new about him. And everyday he looked just a little more like his father.

 

Vegeta was surprisingly withdrawn during the day. He was constantly busying himself and surrounded by engineers. Bulma wasn't sure what to make of the strange behavior, but for now she was just content to spend time with her son. Her near-death experience had given her a new outlook on life and she became less concerned about returning to Earth.

 

But despite Vegeta's neglect during daylight hours, he always returned early enough to put Trunks to sleep. Bulma watched as Vegeta spoke in his native tongue to the boy, telling him stories of great Saiya-jin warriors of the past. After enough time, Bulma even began recognizing and understanding some of the lilting cadences of the Saiya-jin language. And, she was sorry to admit, it sounded nothing like cave man.

 

~~~~~~~<(((((|||)))))>~~~~~~~

 

“When are you going to tell her?” asked Zarbon cautiously. Neither of them had done more than mention the message Vegeta had left for Zarbon before his suicide mission. “You know you have to.”

 

“I know, Zarbon, I know,” said Vegeta with irritation and something else in his voice. He continued typing specs into the computer.

 

The Legendary reduced to staring at a computer screen, how prosaic.

 

He thought, hoping Zarbon was taking the hint. He'd barely returned with his life and the green creature was already nagging him to death. They fell into an extended silence.

 

Thankfully, the preliminary design was coming along as planned. It had only taken a few tweaks to broaden the field. It would all be worked out more quickly than he'd hoped. He began scribbling some notes on a stack of papers next to the computer console.

 

“You can't put it off forever,” Zarbon's voice interrupted his thoughts once again.

 

“Enough, damn you, enough!” proclaimed Vegeta, throwing his writing utensil to the ground and standing abruptly.

 

Zarbon peered at him through half-slit eyes.

 

“She's going to figure it out.”

 

Assuming she hasn't already.

 

Vegeta narrowed his eyes and stared at his advisor and friend, his continued irritation evident.

 

“Whatever,” he finally said, and without further ado, stomped out of the room, muttering curses the whole way.

 

~~~~~~~<(((((|||))))>~~~~~~~

 

“Let me guess,” said Bulma, refraining from facing the angry Saiya-jin, “you've got something you need to tell me.”

 

Vegeta stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed, scowl firmly in place. He'd stomped not so quietly into her lab about five minutes earlier and planted himself in front of her, obviously nonplussed. It didn't take a mind reader to realize something had gotten his panties all in a bunch. Of course, it didn't hurt that she really could read his mind either.

 

“Woman!” he said. “While I am delighted you've finally been cultivating your minuscule mental abilities, you will refrain from using that tone with me.”

 

Bulma turned to face him, her eyebrows raised. Something had really gotten his panties in a bunch.

 

“Alright. Out with it,” she said, crossing her own arms, and leaning back further in her chair. Vegeta was silent. She was glad Trunks wasn't with her. He never reacted well to his father's outbursts.

 

“If this is about the device you've been working on, Vegeta, I already know.” She turned away, typing something into her computer console. Vegeta remained silent, apparently in shock.

 

“You're terrible at secrecy. You know, you're not the only one the guards swore fealty to,” she said offhandedly. She sighed. “Do you honestly think I hadn't figured it out? You're mated to one of the most intelligent females on this side of the galaxy and the fact that I have a brain in my head still astonishes you.” She sighed again, this time in exasperation.

 

Bulma stopped typing and began twirling Vegeta's mother's ring around her finger. Its jewels glittered in the artificial light. It was a nervous habit she'd picked up as of late.

 

“Look. I figured out weeks ago what happened.” She still wasn't facing him. “Once the other scientists tracked the irregular quantum signal around the time of our arrival, it was easy to put two and two together.” She turned again, lacing her fingers together and resting her head on top of them. “Time travel.”

 

Vegeta stared at her, his face hard and his tail wound tightly around his waist. He was playing this one close to home. Bulma just continued to stare him down.

 

“At first, it didn't make sense to me why you were spending so much time with my father. I figured that maybe you were working on some upgrades for the GR. But while rummaging through his desk one night searching for some of the communication chip specs, I stumbled across a sketch.” She paused. “At the time, I didn't think anything of it. Dad was always working on crack pot ideas for new projects. If we could violate some physical laws with encapsulation, why not look into time travel?

 

“Even after I arrived here I had no idea how we were suddenly transported to a planet that no longer existed.”

 

Vegeta twitched ever so slightly.

 

“At least not in our dimension,” she added to soften the blow. “But quantum interference could only mean one thing: interdimensional travel. Before now, it was only theoretical, but it makes sense when time manipulation becomes part of the picture. And it explains everything that happened.” Her words were now almost accusatory.

 

“I've done quite a bit of research since I've been here. Did you know that some scientists have theorized that two copies of the same entity cannot exist within the same dimension?”

 

Vegeta didn't respond.

 

“Anyway, the implications are pretty easy to understand,” she said when she took his lack of response for ignorance. Her tone became pedantic. “You occupied the same niche as the already existing Vegeta, so, according to this theory, physical law forced your two personalities to be fused to correct the error. Your personality became the lesser of the two, hibernating within this Vegeta's body until our bond forced you into dominance.

 

“Being that my planet was already destroyed, and I never existed here, I had no such problems,” she added as an afterthought.

 

“Somehow, you arrived here several days before me. The only explanation I can find is that though our two dimensions are parallel, their timelines must not be. What was only minutes on Earth could have amounted to days or weeks here.” She stared at him, waiting for some sort of response.

 

Vegeta said nothing.

 

“That has to be what happened. You tried to use my father's device to travel through time and something went wrong. Didn't it, Vegeta?”

 

She let the question hang it the air, rhetorical. They both knew the answer already. His silence only confirmed his guilt. He really had tried to leave her. Their relationship meant nothing to him other than an obligation, an untimely bond formed because of her own stupid curiosity. Even though it would have been excruciatingly painful for him to separate himself from her, he was going to do it anyway.

 

Bulma stood and walked to the window in her lab. She'd known all along, but somehow it hurt so much more having everything confirmed by the man she'd grown to trust, even love.

 

“When did you find out, exactly?” asked Vegeta after several moments of silence, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. If it were anyone else, it would have come off as a nervous reaction.

 

“About a week before Freeza arrived. I'd already worked everything out by the time I brought it up to you in our quarters. I wanted to see how you'd react. But I didn't say anything, Vegeta. I just couldn't be that selfish.” She sighed, burying her face in her palms and shaking her head in a futile motion. After a few minutes, Bulma lifted her head slowly, looking up at Vegeta as if she'd just had an epiphany.

 

“And that's why you're working on this new project. You want to send us back to Earth,” she said, placing a distinct ostracism on the word 'us'. Vegeta widened his eyes and Bulma raised her face to look at him. Her chest ached.

 

Vegeta pulled out a lab stool and sat. He'd had enough of people psychoanalyzing him. They were always wrong.

 

“Like so many other members of your species, Bulma, you're willfully misunderstanding.”

 

Insufferable race.

 

He thought with a sneer. Was he really going to do this? He hated explaining himself.

 

“You're right,” he said finally. Bulma's face went blank, concealing her emotions. “I did design that machine with your father. I did try to leave. I'm not going to lie to you. If there was any chance I could regain the life I thought I should have had, I was going to take it. I wanted to escape.”

 

Bulma made an angry noise under her breath and started walking to the door, disgusted with his confession. She'd heard enough. She didn't want to be around him when she finally broke down. He would only chastise her. He hated emotional displays.

 

Vegeta stood up, stalking toward her as she tried to leave.

 

“But in dwelling on those things, you're ignoring some non-negotiable facts,” he said before she could make her own escape. “First, I will not be separated from my son. He is the Heir and the only remaining link to the Royal House. He will not be raised below his station the way I was.”

 

He drew closer and Bulma took in a breath through her nose. Her sadness was dissipating and being replaced with another emotion. She was angrier than she could ever remember. She was not going back to Earth without her son.

 

“And secondly,” he said and reached out to run his fingers through Bulma's hair, “I refuse to remain in a dimension where you don't exist.” He pressed in on her, trapping her with his body. Bulma was backed against the door, her escape route blocked.

 

“So you see, we're at an impasse.”

 

Bulma stared at him, not sure how to interpret the situation. Was he forcing her to stay? But if he planned on keeping her here then why spend so much time down in engineering?

 

“I don't understand,” she said and pushed at his chest feebly. His base ki was ten times stronger than it used to be. If she couldn't fight him off then, she sure as hell couldn't now.

 

'Most intelligent female on this side of the galaxy' my ass.

 

Thought Vegeta.

 

Placing one hand against the wall on either side of Bulma's head, Vegeta closed the distance between them until his lips were against her ear. He would make her understand.

 

Bulma stiffened. Even through her anger and the other emotions that seeped through their bond, he could sense the faint smell of her lust. She was pissed, but she still wanted him.

 

Vegeta turned the lock on the door and pressed himself more firmly against her. No one was in the lab and he'd already disabled the security cameras. They were completely alone.

 

He inhaled deeply, tangling his hands in her hair and cupping the back of her head. Would he ever tire of the feel of her?

 

“All those firing neurons in that brain you pride yourself in,” Vegeta scoffed, “and you still haven't figured out the most important part.” He grasped her chin and turned her head so she had to look at him directly. His chocolate eyes glowed gold. “You and the boy are not the only ones returning to that miserable mudball.”

 

Bulma's eyebrows furrowed.

 

“I'm going back to Earth with you.”

 

“What?” she asked in barely a whisper. Bulma scowled and Vegeta continued to stare at her as the anger left her eyes.

 

The Saiya-jin no Ou pulled her away from the wall abruptly and wrapped his arms around her, cradling her head. It was a surprisingly tender move. Uncomfortable with his sudden display of affection, Bulma pushed him away skeptically and looked at him as if she'd never seen him before. It had to be a joke. A cruel joke. What did he mean he wasn't staying? He was going to leave Vegeta-sei?

 

“But Vegeta, this is everything you've ever—“

 

“We don't belong here,” he interrupted and shook her slightly, trying to convince her of his sincerity. He didn't want to hear the reasons he should stay. He'd already weighed the pros and cons.

 

This is not our home.

 

He said into her mind with disdain and a strange simplicity as he let his hands fall from her arms. Bulma stood there, unmoving, measuring his words. When Vegeta's eyes didn't falter, she reached out, grabbing the tight material of his body suit. The fabric was soft against her fingers. It was one of the new models she'd designed personally.

 

She couldn't believe it. They were really going home.

 

“I love you,” she said with challenge and defiance in her voice.

 

“I know,” he responded, a derisive smile on his face. He was never going to say it back to her.

 

With the new strength she'd gained after her extended stay in the regen tank, Bulma pulled her mate closer, the instruments in her lab coat rattling together loudly. The piece of clothing clanked in protest as it dropped to the floor. It didn't matter. She wouldn't be needing it anymore tonight.