Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Variations of Fate ❯ Dreams ( Chapter 13 )

Water splashed around, suspended her body. Youthful laughter echoed about her, yet was so far off. She felt and saw everything...but it was hazy. And the emotion... Everything and everyone, so carefree, so happy.

Another wall of water came her way, accompanied by nine-year-old Ava's squeal of raucous laughter. She heard herself squeal, felt her arms send a splash Ava's way. Somehow...she felt so...happy...so carefree...

But then... The lights flickered, stabilized, flickered, stabilized...Ava...we've gotta go...Ava...we've gotta go...gotta go find mom...Mom...she'll be worried...Dad? Where's Dad...He'll protect us...

Then all went black. Fear. Fear was everywhere. Frantic screams permeated her senses. She could feel them, smell them, taste them, hear them though they were formless to sight. The bile rose in her throat, her stomach grew queasy.

Everything spun wildly out of control. Frantically she searched for Ava. Frantically she searched, frantically she found.

Green light. That eerie green light. That horrible, menacing green light...

Mom...mom...where's dad? We've got to get him...Dad...They'll kill him.

Hands pushed her forward. People shoved her. The Saiyans...the Saiyans...

Outside. The glare of the sun off the rocks. The smell and sound and sight of fear. People huddled.

Dad...Dad...

The sea of people parted and the image cleared as she felt herself rush forward.

Dad...Her father, tied and bound. She was forced roughly around, into her mother's stomach, her mother who smelled of fear. Flashes of light reflected from the rocks around them, the smell of death and charred flesh wafted on the breeze. Dad?! No...he... Dad's voice! Dad was still alive...he was still alive...

Bulma wrenched free from her mother's grasp and turned. The Saiyan...was aiming his hand at Dad...There was a flash of brilliant white light, and a massive explosion...

"DADDY! NO!" Bulma screamed out, sitting bolt upright in bed, body streaming with sweat, the linens on her cot wrapped about her, clinging to spots of bare skin. She sat shocked and numb.

"Bulma?" came Ava's soft voice from the doorway. "Bulma...?"

Bulma didn't answer. Her head fell into her palms, her body wracked with sobs. Ava slipped onto the cot next to her and placed an arm around her shoulder. With a shudder and a sniffling sob, Bulma buried her head in her sister's shoulder.

Ava wrapped her arms about Bulma and hugged her close. "Shh...shh..."

Tears streamed freely down Bulma's face as she fought the sobs, muffling them against Ava's shoulder. Minutes passed before Bulma was able to subdue and swallow the sobs, though in their place came hiccups and quivering. Neither saw Cuff or Mrs. Briefs in the shadows of the door. Neither saw when mother and son turned quietly and quickly away, grief etched on Mrs. Briefs' face, sympathy and envy and dejection etched upon Cuff's.

"Shh..." Ava uttered again before holding Bulma at arm's length. "You had that nightmare, didn't you?"

Bulma nodded numbly, wiping her nose and face on the sheets before she spoke softly, "I haven't had it in years, Ava..." She was still shivering, the aftermath of the sobs.

"Shh...I know..."

"It was horrible...how dad died..."

Ava bit her lip and glanced away. She had not seen Dr. Briefs die. She had been sobbing uncontrollably against Mrs. Briefs' stomach. Bulma, only nine, had witnessed it all and not had someone else to relate with on the topic. Mrs. Briefs had always been reluctant to discuss the topic of her husband's death.

Finally, Ava said, turning back towards Bulma, "I didn't see him die...I couldn't look..."

Bulma hiccupped and bit back a sob at her inability to control herself. "I wish I hadn't...I wish I hadn't..."

"Bulma..." Ava began softly.

"Y-yes?"

"...how did dad die?" Ava blurted, then yet again turned her head from her sister and bit down hard on her lower lip.

Bulma was silent for several moments. "He...was blasted away...in this...blast of energy..."

"Oh," was all the redhead could manage. But Bulma wasn't finished.

"They beat him and kicked him first, though. Because he spoke of how he loved us..." Bulma paused painfully, looking away from her sister "...and how...how...he...was proud he had killed the Saiyans he'd killed...he was...proud he'd...fought for us..."

"I remember..." Ava said softly, "...he called me his daughter..."

"You were his daughter the moment he and mom took you in with us. You were my sister and best friend that same instant," said Bulma with fierce certainty and finality, though the tears were streaming freely down her cheeks again. She glanced back at Ava; Ava's cheeks were also tear-streaked. It was Bulma's turn to comfort the silently suffering Ava. Bulma hugged her and held her close.

They were, after all, sisters and friends, bound by suffering and the companionship that stems therein.

A somewhat haggard looking Bulma pushed through the palace doors that morning, strode determinedly towards the throne room doors and pushed them open. She sauntered up to the throne and bowed before King Vegeta who sat watching the input from various security cameras.

"Salrud spoke to me about five minutes ago. There was something you wanted, sire?"

"Ah, yes, Ms. Briefs," King Vegeta said, glancing away from the screen down from his dais to the 'exotic' woman below. "You are a very intelligent woman--"

"Thank you, sir."

"Do NOT interrupt me, Ms. Briefs."

Bulma nodded and bowed her head.

"Now, Ms. Briefs. As I was saying...You are a very intelligent woman, far more intelligent than any of my current technological staff members. HOWEVER," King Vegeta paused. Bulma glanced up at him, eyebrows lifted in surprise as she awaited his next words. "However, though your potential is great, your education has been sorely neglected due to oversight on the part of many, many policies written on the education of human slaves and servants.

"You lack the training and expertise to be one of the best of my scientists, and I would like for you to become one of those elite. Therefore," King Vegeta continued, "I am extending an offer for you to continue the education that so abruptly ended when you turned fourteen and became a full-time servant of the Saiyan Empire. I would like for you to eventually, in time, become my son's science and technology advisor."

Bulma stared at the King. Was the man mad? Had he gone completely off his rocker? "Are...are you serious, sir?"

The Saiyan quirked an eyebrow. "Do I look as though I am anything but? No. I am perfectly serious, should you show the discipline and loyalty necessary -- you already show the aptitude." The King paused a moment, and then continued flippantly. "Besides, the current advisor is getting on in years. He won't be much longer in this dimension. Who knows? Perhaps you could become my science and technology advisor in due time."

Bulma cringed inwardly at King Vegeta's choice of words, but outwardly her face drained of all emotion. She was the very image of serenity and stoicism. "I would enjoy nothing more than...to be given this change to learn more, sir." Her fists clenched at her sides, the only outward sign of the emotions threatening to overflow.

"Ah, but there may be something of a...hitch."

It was Bulma's turn to quirk an eyebrow. "A...hitch?"

"Yes. A hitch," the King delivered smoothly, "You will need to live in the palace."

"And...my family can come with me?"

King Vegeta stared blandly back at her. "No."

"I--" Bulma began.

King Vegeta held up a hand to stop her. "You will need to live here, part time at least. You will be allowed visitors, of course, but they may not take up permanent residence. And...perhaps you will like this and perhaps it will give you something more to think about, something other than science that is. Savoya has graciously offered to share her rather spacious compartments with you. Realize that I know and observe more than you might suspect."

Bulma blanched at the thought, but nodded anyway.

"Your training will start today. It will not be instructional so much as ... an autodidactic exercise. Report to Savoya's compartments. Your reading material will be there, but first go and retrieve your personal effects from your family quarters. Savoya will assist you."

Bulma nodded numbly and after another bow, turned towards the door.

"Oh, and, Ms. Briefs?"

She paused.

"Report to me every morning at 09:00."

"Yes, sire," Bulma said faintly...and then she made a hasty retreat. Meanwhile, someone else slipped into the throne room from a back door.

"Ah, Salrud. Have the medics and scientists compiled any further information?"

"Aye, sire, they have," said the obsequeous Saiyan archivist. He handed the King a datapad and then once more slipped out from the door he'd come in from.

Nappa awoke abruptly from the light nap he'd been taking for all of three minutes at most. He growled under his breath. His Prince's life was at stake and he, the Prince's primary guard, had just fallen asleep on the job!

He glanced guiltily back into the tank where Prince Vegeta continued to heal from the wounds received during his disastrous battle against Zarbon. The bald Saiyan glanced down at the floor. Several days had passed on Frieza's ship. They were bearing down fast on Vegetasei. A few more days, and they'd be home for good.

But...

Nappa glanced again at his Prince. Vegeta's vitals were good. His outermost wounds and bruises had disappeared. Things looked good...but he wasn't sure Vegeta was fully healed. In fact, he wasn't sure Vegeta would be fully healed by the time they entered Vegetasei's atmosphere.

Of course, the Prince had surprise them many times before...but...

With a girly squeal, Nappa jumped away from the tank.

Surprises, surprises! Prince Vegeta was awake ... and glaring quite angrily at him! Nappa slunk quickly forward and smacked the release button. The fluid drained out; Vegeta tore the mask from his face and floated out of the tank. Nappa made a mad dash for a towel and the Prince's clothing, both of which he tossed and the Prince and looked away.

"How long have I been in there?" Vegeta demanded as he towel dried himself and began changing into his clothes.

Nappa looked down at his hand and tried counting, but as to be expected he failed miserably. "Uh...um. Four or five?"

Vegeta cursed vehemently. "Damn that green pretty boy. Damn him!"

"Er...you might...er...not...want...er..."

"Are you saying I'm weak?!" Vegeta demanded.

"Uh! Uh! No, of course not!" Nappa hurriedly said, turning around and bowing and scraping and groveling before his Prince.

The young Saiyan smirked, laughing coldly. "Get up, you fool."

Nappa suppressed a shudder. Prince Vegeta in a bad mood was very scary.

"Yes sir," Nappa said quietly.

"What's the latest news?" Vegeta asked, tossing the towel over his shoulder and crossing his arms.

"We're approaching Vegetasei."

"...and?"

"A few more days. Two or three."

Vegeta cursed again, took the towel off his shoulder and tossed it violently into the nearest laundry bin. "Fuck. Shit. Damn it!"

"Er."

Vegeta promptly ignored the bumbling idiot of a guard and stalked out of the medical bay. Nappa blinked and then ran after his charge.