Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unconditional Bonds (revamped) ❯ The Ties that Bind ( Chapter 13 )

Chapter Thirteen: The Ties that Bind

"Mom, do you think I can see dad today?"

The muscle in Bulma's jaw jumped. She turned to look into the deep blue orbs of her son. She opened her mouth to speak but a voice cut her off.

"Trunks," it said, "I don't think your dad wants to see you."

The statement hung in the air like a bad odor. Finally, "Think about it, my boy," the voice soothed, "It's been two weeks. If he really wanted to see you, he would have shown up by now, wouldn't he?" A reassuring smile was flashed his way that made the child's stomach turn. "I know it's hard for you to understand, but he abandoned you. It's just best if you forget about him."

Bulma shot Billy a nasty look.

"Bill, I know you don't think highly of Vegeta, but you shouldn't judge him like that. He does care for his son, he just isn't public about it."

Billy rolled his brown eyes.

"Well if he cares so much," he asked critically, "then where is he?"

"I...I don't know." She shook her head a bit sadly, "this was all such a shock, I mean-"

"Don't make excuses for him," he cut in. "He's just another dead beat dad." The lanky man shook his head in disgust. "People like him make me sick. Never there for their family, always locking themselves away with their addictions, ignoring what's going on in their own household. It's horrible."

"Addictions?"

"Yes, Bulma, addictions. For some it's drugs, other's it's alcohol, for him it was training. Isn't that why we're here right now?" he asked tactlessly. "Because of him locking you and Trunks out, training hours on end, and not spending anytime with his family?"

By this time Trunks had had enough. None of this was true and he knew it.

"Shut up! Both of you! Just shut-up!"

Both Bulma and Billy turned around, the lanky man's hand still on the wheel. Brown and blue eyes settled on the 9-year-old sitting in the back seat. Trunks face was set in anger, looking so much like his father that Bulma had to suppress a shiver.

"You know that's not true, Mom!" he cried outraged, "Why do you let him talk like that?"

A stab of guilt instantly ran through the young boy when he looked into his mother's distressed eyes.

"I'm sorry, mom," he sighed.

Bulma gave him a weak smile.

"It's okay Trunks," she said softly, "we shouldn't have talked like that in front of you. I'm sorry too."

Billy nodded, letting his eyes go back to the road. The school was now visible and he pulled the air car up to the curb.

"Me too, champ," he said twisting back in his seat. "I shouldn't talk about your father like that." He gave him a lop-sided grin. "How about I take you to the circus to make up for it, okay?"

The lavender haired boy shrugged; he was getting tired of being dragged to so-called `fun' places.

"Yeah sure. Can Goten come?" Maybe if his best friend came along they could ditch this loser and have a decent time on their own.

"You bet he can!" he laughed. The child's lip turned in distaste. That had to be the stupidest laugh he had ever heard. It was one of those braying wheezes that caused everyone else in the vicinity to snicker. But it was only humorous the first few days, now it set his teeth on edge.

The lanky man reached back and ruffled the demi-Saiyan's lavender hair. Trunks cringed, fighting the urge to recoil under the touch. Quickly, he leaned forward and kissed his mom on the cheek and hopped out of the air car.

He made his way towards the school, relieved to be away from the ongoing tension that was building in the car.

A cheerful voice was there to greet him.

"Oi, Trunks! Wait for me!"

Goten ran up along side his friend. With his father's goofy grin plastered on his face, he gave Trunks a good-natured shove.

"How ya doing?"

Trunks smiled and shoved him back. Goten was always good for cheering people up.

"Fine, I guess."

Goten knew better, but didn't say anything. He wasn't about to upset his best friend; he had gone through too much already.

Before more words could be exchanged Mr. Neller and Ms. Perry caught sight of the boys and ushered them inside, scolding them each step of the way for being late.

The morning went by agonizingly slow. Trunks was counting down the minutes until recess, not being able to tear his gaze away from the large clock nailed above the chalkboard. Only three more minutes, why did it take so long? He held his breath, as if it would speed the time up. It didn't help. Neither did fidgeting in his seat.

"Trunks!"

The boy jerked his head up.

"Yes, Ms. Perry?"

"Sit still. You're distracting the rest of the class."

"Yes, Ms. Perry," he sighed despondently.

Then, by some miracle, the bell suddenly rang. As always, he was the first out the door, followed closely by Goten.

"I never thought it would ring," proclaimed his younger companion, "I think they're setting the clocks back just to be mean."

"You're paranoid, Goten."

"No, really I swear yesterday it rang 2 minutes earlier, and even then, it was still late."

"Whatever, I'm just glad to be outside."

Trunks scanned the playground looking for something to do. It was here that he felt something off. His ears tingled, like someone was whispering to him.

"Hey, Goten, did you hear that?"

Goten looked around, "Hear what?"

"Like someone's talking real soft." He was quiet and he heard it again. "There, just now!" His eyes grew wide, "You didn't hear that?"

"Um, Trunks are you feeling okay?"

Trunks shot his younger companion a dark look.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

Goten shrugged. "I just don't hear anything."

A young girl with dark auburn pigtails abruptly ran up to the two of them. She smoothed out her pretty pink shirt, shuffling her shoes in the grass, "Goten, um, could you come with me over to the soccer field? We got our ball stuck in a tree and we can't get it down." She batted her green eyes. "Please?"

Goten flashed the classic Son smile, "Sure, I'll be there in a sec."

Trunks, on the other hand, had a familiar scowl etched on his face.

Goten looked over at him. "You going to come?"

"No way." He stated, as if Goten had asked him to eat dirt, "Girls are stupid."

"Ah, they're not so bad, well I'll see you in a bit." And with that, Goten ran off.

Trunks grumbled to himself and went to sit on a rickety bench to wait for his friend's return. The chain link fence that marked the edge of the school's property was at his back. He leaned back upon it and closed his eyes.

"Trunks."

There it was again, but this time it was louder, like it was closer. Right behind him in fact.

The boy slowly turned around. Over the fence leaning up against the tree... He nearly broke into tears.

"Dad?"

A nod.

In an instant, Trunks leapt over the fence and half flew, half ran, over to the tree on the hill. He squarely attached himself to his father's leg.

"DadImissedyousomuchhashappenedtheresomeweirdguylivingathomeandm om'sallfunnyand-

"Whoa Trunks, slow down."

He pulled his son away from him and placed his hands on his shoulders, looking down at him. The child had tears in his eyes, but was trying his best to keep himself in check.

"Sorry." A sniffle. "I said, I missed you. There's some weird guy living at home. Mom acts funny towards him, she said I should be respectful to him and mind what he says. She said he'll be living here from now on. Everything's really screwed up."

"I know it is."

"Dad, I'm glad you're back. When are you coming home?"

Vegeta sighed, "Come with me, Trunks. We have a lot to talk about."

Trunks grinned; one, he was getting out of school and more importantly he was with his father. He couldn't have been happier. They rose in the air and started heading towards the heart of the city.

"Dad," the demi-Saiyan shouted in the direction of his father, "I thought we weren't suppose to fly with people around."

Vegeta bit back a comment; that had been Bulma's rule.

"Just don't make yourself obvious, we'll be landing in a second anyhow." Which they did behind a closed-down building.

They walked around the city streets for a while in silence. Trunks repeatedly looking at his father, wondering where they were going. He didn't ask though. Vegeta's expression was one of deep thought, not to be interrupted.

The boy was getting more confused by the second. He didn't know what was wrong and to top it off he was starving. It was well past lunch-time.

Vegeta stopped and suddenly turned down an alleyway, Trunks at his tail. When they re-appeared on the other side, they were on the city's main drag. The prince walked towards a tall building. Trunks grinned ear to ear. He knew this place well.

Upon entering one got the feeling of entering a palace. The place was massive, and furnished with every imaginable luxury. An extravagant fountain with waterfalls and jumping sprays sat in the center beneath a gigantic chandelier. Waiters in their red and black uniforms seemed to dance around it, their hands scrawling down their customer's exorbitant selections as they moved from table to table.

A glass elevator was positioned behind the falls, Trunks blue eyes settled on it.

"Can we eat up there?"

Vegeta nodded.

"Yes, but don't drop anything on the people below us like you did the last time we ate up there, got it?"

Trunks frowned; his father had ruined his plans.

"But you thought it was funny."

"Yes, but the owner didn't. We nearly got kicked out."

"Awww" he then smirked, a carbon copy of his father. "We could blast them if they tried."

Vegeta put a hand to his chin, mockingly considering it.

"Hmm...I don't know. If we did, the police would show up and we would have to blast them too. Then there's the fire department and the reporters to consider, not to mention all the witnesses." He shook his head, "Nope, by the time we would be done, lunch would be over and the day would be shot."

Trunks laughed. He had missed joking with his father.

The two Saiyans entered the elevator. Upon reaching the upper level an attendant seated them at a table overlooking the leaping sprays of the fountain. The owner made it a point to come by and greet them. She knew them well, as she did all high paying customers, and after giving them a complementary round of drinks she went back to the kitchen to oversee the new cook.

Trunks was eyeing the passing waiters, already devising plans of a spit ball assault.

Vegeta waited until the owner had left then looked at his young son. He closed his eyes momentarily; this wasn't going to be easy.

A waiter came and took their rather lengthy order and began to walk away to the back. Trunks was wearing a mischievous smile, sizing him up, and looking for a good place to aim.

It was time:

"How much has your mother told you?"

The boy gave a startled shrug, a bit disappointed that he lost his opportunity to send a spit wad flying at the waiter's hair. He focused on his father.

"She said that Billy was going to be living with us and that I should be nice to him." His blue eyes settled on his father. Vegeta had trouble looking into them as they were mirrors of his mother's eyes, but he managed.

"She said there was something bothering you and you had to go to Kami's Lookout to get it sorted out." His brows drew down, "Billy said you abandoned us or else you would have come by."

A look of agitation crossed the prince's features. `Thanks, Bulma, let me do all the explaining, and fuck you, Billy,' he thought, cursing her for her vagueness with the boy and Billy for his misleading lies.

"Trunks," he paused trying to form the right words. This was beyond difficult, but it had to be said, "Trunks, this is hard for me to say, but you need to hear the truth." Another pause. "I'm sure you're sick of being jerked around."

A simple nod.

"I didn't abandon you," he stated firmly. "I didn't come by because I wasn't welcome. Your mother and I..." Blue eyes penetrated his black ones, making it all the more harder, "aren't going to be living together anymore." There he said it.

Trunks brows knitted together in confusion; he had been under the impression that this was all temporary. This had to be some sort of fluke, some mistake, it had to get better, it just had to.

"What? Can't you say you're sorry?" His voice rose, quivering "Can't you do anything?"

Vegeta slowly shook his head.

"I wish it were that simple."

All thoughts of spit wads vanished from the boy's head.

"So are you getting a divorce or something?"

Vegeta wasn't going to explain the fact that Bulma and he weren't married in the first place, but he supposed the word `divorce' would aptly sum up the situation.

"Yes, Trunks. I guess that's the best way to put it."

Tears brimmed in the young boy's eyes.

"But why? Was it something I did?"

A look of concern fell over the Saiyan's face.

"No," he said sincerely, "you didn't do anything wrong. I don't know what happened, honestly. But it has nothing to do with you. So no blaming yourself, okay?"

After a few tears, the demi-Saiyan gave a shaky nod.

Vegeta handed him a napkin, Trunks took it with his small hand. He looked away, ashamed he was crying in front of his father.

"It's all right, Trunks. It's okay to cry when you have a good reason."

Trunks looked up at him and then back to the ground.

Vegeta, already feeling distraught, knew he needed to give a further explanation.

"You know you are going to be having a new baby brother or sister." He stated this, figuring Trunks knew.

The child looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Really?" Maybe there was hope yet.

Vegeta bit his tongue. Bulma hadn't even told him that. He repressed a thousand insults aimed at the blue-haired woman and shook his head. He hated to do this, but someone had to tell him. Looked like it would be him.

"Yes, your mom's pregnant. It will be your sibling through her, but," by the Gods this sucked, "not through me."

Trunks couldn't comprehend what he meant by that. Just then the food arrived, yet neither touched their plates.

"I don't understand, dad."

He gave his son a long look. Finally had to stare behind him to say it, it was simply too hard to meet his eyes.

"Billy is the father of this child, not me."

Trunk's face shattered, realization hitting him like a sledgehammer. His face broke and a high-pitched keening sound erupted from his throat. Billy was living with them because he was going to be his new father. He started to sob, rather loudly as that reality began to sink in.

A pained look crossed Vegeta's face. He hated this. Not sparing a second thought, he moved over to his son's side and let the boy cry on his chest, trying to comfort him the best he could. Perhaps it had been cruel to tell Trunks straight out as he had done, but Vegeta was a firm believer in telling the truth to those who mattered to you. And a lie was a lie regardless if it you used it to spare a person's feelings or not. He didn't always used to be this way, and now was one of those times he wished he wasn't.

Trunks finally calmed enough to ask, "So mom cheated on you? That's why you're leaving is because she had an affair?"

Some left over pain seeped back into the prince's system; so he wasn't as over this as much as he thought he was.

He nodded numbly, not willing to elaborate further with his son.

"But why would she do something like this?"

"I don't know," he confessed. "I don't think she was exactly happy with me. I wasn't the best husband in the world to her." Damn, but he hated talking to Trunks about this. So much for being vague.

They boy's red-rimmed eyes became angry.

"Yes you were! You did everything for us! She's just being a jerk!"

"Trunks!" Vegeta's voice becoming stern although he fully agreed with him "Don't talk about your mother like that. She was just doing what she thought was best for her. True she could have gone about it differently, but to be honest it wouldn't have mattered if she would have had the affair or not." He wondered if this statement was true or not, "Your mom and I just aren't happy together anymore. "

"What about me?" he demanded, "Did either one of you stop and think about me? I don't want that loser as my dad! I want you!" He clutched desperately on to Vegeta's shirt.

Now they were beginning to attract stares. The Saiyan's burning black eyes shot them a look that promised a slow death if they didn't quickly attend to their own business. All promptly turned in their seats and focused on their plates.

After a moment he gently rocked his son.

"Trunks, I'll always be your father. No matter what happens, never forget that. No one's asking you to accept Billy," the hatred restored in that name. "as your father."

Trunks pushed away.

"That's not true. He's already trying to take your place. He takes me to all of these stupid places and tries to buy me everything under the sun to try and win me over."

Vegeta looked him in the eye.

"Is it working?"

The boy held his head up defiantly.

"NO. I'll never like him! And nothing he does will ever make me call him `dad'."

The prince had to smile at his offspring's proud behavior, so much like his own.

"Well then, you have nothing to worry about. The only one who can make him take my place as your father is you."

"But I'll never see you…" he trailed off.

A gentle chuckle.

"Trunks, you can see me anytime you want. You know where the Lookout is."

"Really?"

"Yes."

Trunks tears ceased.

"But what if mom doesn't let me?" he asked, frowning.

"Well we're going to have to talk to her about that." He said this statement with a bit of venom in his voice, but tried to mask it. He didn't want to upset his son further.

More question's burned through the boy's skull, but his father placed a hand on his head.

"Dry your tears. I know this is bullshit," Trunks mouth gapped, although he had heard his father curse...frequently, he had never done so while speaking to him. He found it a bit humorous, and a tiny grinned tugged on his lips. Vegeta matched it with his own, "But over time it will get better."

The boy gave a nod, it was then he started eyeing the now cooling food before them.

"Dad if we're done talking now; I'm hungry, can we eat?"

"Spoken like a true Saiyan," he smirked. "Go ahead."

They finished their meal. Trunks had cheered up now that he had food in his stomach not to mention that he had gotten a few good spitballs in. Of course he only did so when his father would `conveniently' look away. He thought he was doing a good job too, until Vegeta pointed behind him.

Trunks looked over his shoulder. The mother of all targets was standing 3 yards behind him. The overweight cook- the word `overweight' being a kind statement-had come out into the dining floor and had dropped a spoon and was in the process of bending over to pick it up. His crimson clad butt was like a bright red beacon to the nine year old. He looked over at his dad in astonishment. Vegeta simply grinned and on cue looked away to the fountains below him.

Trunks leapt at the chance. An indignant "Hey!!" was Vegeta's signal it was time to look back at the table. Trunks was wearing the biggest shit-eating smile he had ever seen. He chuckled at him. The waiter, who was sporting many a spit wad in his hair, unnoticed of course, handed him the bill. Without looking at it, Vegeta began to pull out his wallet; a slender hand on his shoulder stopped him. It was the owner.

"Please, Mr. Vegeta don't worry about it." She looked both ways, and when she was sure the coast was clear she bent down to whisper in his ear. "I couldn't help but hear part of your conversation earlier. So I took the liberty and charged your meal to Mr. Quinn's personal account."

"Mr. Quinn?" A questioning glance.

"Ah, Billy Quinn" she winked at him mischievously.

Vegeta gave a snide snicker.

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

The owner gave a pleasant smile.

"Think nothing of it Mr. Vegeta. I know whose business I value more. And if you should ever need anything," she handed him a business card, "don't hesitate to ask." With that she flashed him another smile, turned and left. He flipped the card over, written in an elegant scrawl;

`I'm so sorry for this misfortune. If you ever need to talk, please give me a call,' a number `or come by,' an address, `I'm free after 6, or anytime. Anything for you. Forever there, Sandra'

There was a smiley face drawn under her name. A look of horror crossed the elite's face.

"What is it dad?"

Not only was he just hit on, but he was hit on in front of his son.

"Let's just say it will be a while before we eat here again."

"Why?"

Vegeta shook his head and looked in the direction of the owner, she looked back and waved, winked, and gave him a sly smile. Vegeta quickly looked away and tugged at his son's arm.

"Oh by the demons...Let's go."

"What? Why?"

"I'll explain it to you when you're older."

He quickly threw down a tip, wrapped in it was the business card. Later on that evening Sandra did get a call...from the love struck waiter who had found the card thinking it was for him. Unfortunately for him, he was fired by the humiliated woman.

Vegeta flew in the direction of Capsule Corp. a mixture of emotions churning through his head. He had flown this way countless times, but now he couldn't just stroll into the massive building as he had done before. He had accepted that the relationship between Bulma and himself was over, it was just breaking the familiar habits that was so hard.

They landed outside the entrance. Trunks wished his father farewell and promised he'd be up to see him soon. Vegeta nodded in his direction advising him to stay out of mischief. Trunks grinned and ran up to the door. Before he could touch it, however, it flew open.

"Trunks! I was worried sick about you! Where were you? The school called and said you were missing. Why did you do such a thing?" Trunks backed away from his flailing mother.

"Oh mom, calm down I was just with dad." He jerked a finger behind him. "See, he's right over there."

Bulma immediately stopped her frantic behavior and looked up. Vegeta stood like a statue, his arms crossed and his face expressionless. They looked at each other, neither speaking a word.

Finally a squeaky pitched voice broke the air.

"Bulma, honey? Is that Trunks? Is he okay?"

Billy came outside; the first thing he saw was Trunks.

"Hey there you are kiddo, we were really-"

His gaze caught on the menacing looking Saiyan standing in the front yard. Brown and black eyes met. Vegeta didn't move or speak, a brief glance the only acknowledgement he granted the other man. Finally, Billy spoke.

"You must be Vegeta."

The Saiyan Prince said nothing.

"Er, the quiet type huh? Listen, I know you probably don't think much of -"

"I don't think anything of you," he intercepted. "My son, on the other hand," his eyes snapped on Bulma, "is of my blood. And considering this fact," he said, words spilling like fire, "at anytime he pleases he can leave these premises and come to my own, is this understood?"

Bulma's eyes narrowed; how dare he command her?

"Now listen, Vegeta. Trunks just can't up and leave anytime he wants to."

"No, you listen, Bulma. Trunks can damn well see me anytime he wants. If you dare try to prevent him like you have been doing-"

Billy stepped protectively in front of the blue-haired woman.

"I won't let you hurt her."

Vegeta threw back his head and laughed.

"Is that so?" His lips twisted in a cruel smile, "I could kill you before you draw your next breath."

"Perhaps, but I'll die before you hurt her. I understand you wanting to see your son. We won't keep him from you. But he can't leave the middle of school. Please understand this."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow, indeed Billy was as ugly and ridiculous as Piccolo had said, but apparently he had a decent heart, at least from this display.

Vegeta sneered, "I'm not going to hurt her, you fool." He glared in Bulma's direction, "Fine," he hissed, "We'll work out the details later." She nodded in reply.

He inclined his head towards Trunks and blasted off into the sky without another word. All eyes following his vapor trail until it dissipated in the evening air.