Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Wherever You Will Go ❯ Ch 7 ( Chapter 7 )

Chapter 7

Vegeta stood before Bulma with a stony gaze and a stubborn set to his mouth, "I can take care of them on my own."

Bulma sighed exasperatedly while she clutched a small, lavender-haired boy to her chest, "I just want you to wait on the others. I have a bad feeling about these androids."

Vegeta scoffed and folded his arms across his chest, "I am the Prince of the Saiyans! I do not need help from a pathetic groupie in order to dispatch a couple of tin cans!"

Bulma looked confused, "Why are you doing this? You don't need to prove yourself to anyone! You have a son; you have me! What if something happens to you?"

Vegeta closed his eyes, a scowl fixed on his face, "Woman, Kakarott died of a heart disease. A heart disease! You know what he would do."

Bulma put one hand on her hip, still holding a now squirming Trunks, who could feel the tension between his parents. "He would wait for the others. They're meeting at Kame House to plan something, not jump recklessly into battle." She put the hand on her hip on his arm, "Please."

Vegeta's eyebrow twitched, "No, woman. You're wrong. Kakarott would've taken care of these androids himself." A put a finger on her mouth to forestall what she was going to say, "The others would've been there, but he wouldn't have needed their help. Not truly."

Bulma sighed as Vegeta's finger fell from her mouth. From Vegeta's point of view, that was surely true. Goku had dispatched so many enemies that that was all Vegeta saw. He didn't see that many times, it had been his friends that had brought about victory.

The last foe Goku had faced, no one had been able to defeat. The heart disease had hit him so suddenly, so potently, that no one had time to react before Goku was gone.

Goku's death had hit everyone hard, even Vegeta. Bulma wasn't surprised. Vegeta had transferred his very reason for living to Goku. Goku dying by a heart disease… Even Bulma was floored that a tiny virus had brought down the mightiest of warriors.

Her hand fell from his arm. "I'm so afraid you won't come back," she whispered.

Vegeta gathered her in his arms and silently held her, being careful not to crush the tiny being that was cooing in-between them. He didn't make any promises. Promises were too easily broken.

"I must do this, woman."

Bulma stepped back out of his arms, "I'm not telling you not to fight. I'm telling you not to fight alone."

He stalked to the window and faced away from her, toward the dawn. "You don't understand, woman. Kakarott wouldn't have needed them."

Bulma looked a little shocked. It was almost a concession that Vegeta did need them, or was afraid he did. She put Trunks in the bassinet at the foot of the bed, moved behind Vegeta, put hands on tense shoulders, "No I don't. Not completely. But I understand better now."

She couldn't stand the tenseness of his muscles and couldn't imagine the strain it must have put on him. She slowly began to knead her fingers, working them into the muscles, demanding that they relax. After a few moments, she felt them start to comply but not enough to satisfy her. They stood there until the sun had completely risen, flooding the land with its bright light, chasing all the darkness away, until the muscles beneath her fingers no longer felt rock hard.

As she leaned her head forward to rest on his shoulder she couldn't stop a giggle. He was purring! It was so cute!

He turned and encircled her in his arms, and she reflected that she felt very safe there. "What are you laughing at now, woman?" he softly asked. The purr acted as a background to his voice, making it like velvet.

She didn't answer, just leaned forward and lightly kissed him, "Come back soon."

Vegeta grinned cockily, "No telling what you'll do if I mess up our schedule."

He squeezed her briefly before turning and flying toward the sunrise. Bulma stood at the window long after he could no longer be seen.

* * *

Bulma laughed at ChiChi's impersonation of Gohan begging to go fight the androids with everyone else. She had come over to ChiChi's house, bringing Trunks along, and they now sat in the kitchen chatting lightly and drinking hot tea. It was a good way to pretend that both women weren't thinking of what was happening to their loved ones.

Trunks gurgled happily in the baby carrier that was set on the table and ChiChi turned her attention to him, cooing and gurgling right along with him in a way that made Bulma smile in true happiness.

"He looks so much like his father, but he's definitely got your eyes. But that hair! How in world does black and blue make purple?"

Bulma laughed and looked fondly at her son, "Actually that's his grandfather's hair color."

ChiChi nodded sagely and said nothing. They sat in a companionable silence for several minutes.

Suddenly Bulma felt a pain in her gut so keenly, so deeply, her hand jerked and sent the teacup smashing to the ground, the tea making a dark stain on the carpet around the littered pieces of the cup.

She distantly heard ChiChi asking if she was alright but could only instruct the baffled and concerned woman to watch Trunks as she ran full out the door and jumped into the plane, pulling out all the stops and flying faster than was safe for her to do so.

* * *

Vegeta lay on the ground, not even feeling the cold of it, watching as the two androids turned around and left him there, obviously disinterested in something that wasn't going to resist anymore.

He almost chuckled; well, he would have if he had breath to do so. He didn't know if this was more or less humiliating than his almost-death by Henry. At least Henry had stayed to watch the end.

He could feel the blood leaving his torn and broken body. It was almost comforting in its warmth, but that was part of the illusion that was death, that you would find comfort in it. He didn't even try to move. No, he preferred the time he was given by bleeding to death to think.

His thoughts turned immediately to Bulma. She had been right that there was something not right about the androids. They were stronger than him. They shouldn't have been. He should've been able to easily take care of two mechanical non-entities. If he'd been able to go Super Saiyan….

He gritted his teeth in pain of that failure. Yet again he was dying because he couldn't transform. He remembered clearly that time with Henry though, and the feeling transforming had brought with it. Knowing that, this death was much worse.

He wished he could see her again. She didn't care if he was Super Saiyan or not. Unlike all the others, she never expected or wanted him to change, only to stop lying to himself. It was hard, though. He lied for a reason.

He saw a blackness grow around the edges of his vision and sighed in relief. At least he would have one tiny moment of blackness; nothingness, before he found himself in Hell.

Suddenly his vision was filled with blue. If he'd been able to turn his head, she wouldn't have been able to get this close to him without him noticing.

"Vegeta! Oh, Kami! Vegeta."

Her voice was a wail that cut through his heart cleaner than the android had. She must have thought him already dead, because she jumped at his voice, "W-oman…."

His voice was so raspy and liquid-filled that she almost didn't hear him. She tried to hold onto something that wasn't blood-covered. Then gave it up as not mattering and grabbed his hand. "Oh, Vegeta. You're alive! I'll get you to the-"

She stopped as she realized the choking sound she heard from his throat was laughter, "No…"

"But, Vegeta, you're hurt really badly! Please, let me help you."

His mouth moved and she leaned in closer to hear, "Raise Trunks to be a true warrior."

Bulma shot back up and put a hand to her mouth, tears springing to her eyes, "No! Don't give up like this! I know if I can just get you back-" So saying, she rose up and tried to left him underneath his arms. The gasp of pain that came from his lips, and the sight of blood gushing from a gaping wound in his chest made her stop. She sat down quickly beside him and put his head in her lap, stroking his face in an effort to apologize and make the pained look on his face go away, "No. Vegeta, you have to live."

The growl that came next was quite audible, "Look at me, woman!"

She reluctantly looked at his body, not able to deny the command in his tone. The tears flowed freely at the sight of his torn body. The whole lower half of him was such a bloody mess it looked as if his two legs had merged into one.

He was dying.

Vegeta longed to be able to touch her face, to comfort her. He didn't want her last images of him to be this. He could well imagine what he looked like simply because of the pain he felt. He had dealt this same thing to many and laughed. He wasn't laughing now.

He could feel her tears hitting his face and thanked Kami he was able to. He stayed silent and still, head on her lap, trying to remember the feel of her, the scent of her, so that he would have something bright to take with him to that other world. His last glimpse of it had told him there were no such things down there.

Bulma continued to cry as the sky let go with a deluge of rain, almost as if the whole world were mourning the Prince's death. Bulma gulped back her tears as she heard Vegeta's breath become more ragged. His eyelids were fluttering faster and his entire body trembled. A part of her wished it would end, and a part of her wanted to freeze him, still alive, forever.

She watched, hypnotized, as his arm rose up and his hand caressed her face. His eyes were lucid and clear, free of all pain and a small smile was on his face. Bulma had one flash of hope before the hand dropped lifelessly to the ground. The eyes that once held so much he never spoke, never showed, were now dead, all the spark she had loved gone.

She took a shuddering breath and swept a hand clumsily over the eyes, closing them and making what she wanted to be a nightmare, harsh reality. She felt, suddenly, at peace. Almost as if, now that he was dead, there was no need to mourn. He would not want that. He was dead. She would only be crying for herself, and, as Vegeta had hated self-pity, so did she.

She laid his head carefully on the ground as she rose and decided that she would bury him here, where he had died a true warrior.

Many hours later the cairn had been built using the rocks and rubble that Vegeta's body had probably created. She'd camouflaged the grave. She was pretty sure that if the androids found it, they would gleefully desecrate it.

Thoughts of the androids brought her eyes up to the sky. They narrowed and flashed with an anger that held no trace of mercy in them.

She now understood completely his need for revenge. She craved it; it was like a raging inferno inside her. She would make those 'tin cans' pay for his pain; for her pain.

And then what?

And then I shall be satisfied.

A/N: <sniffles> Jeez, Kahlan. I had to walk away several times to be able to write this, I can't imagine what it did to you readers. JSo, tell me!

This is a sort of interlude for the 2nd part. The first part ended with Henry's death. The second part…well, that's next chapter. Sorry to leave you feeling so angst and vengeful…but it makes all the rest of the Trunks Saga more interesting, doesn't it?

Thank you all for such good responses, but haven't I got anything wrong? Lol. Next chapter will be out soon. The craving to write is greater than the one to eat or sleep so….tomorrow? That's when I'd expect it. I can't leave myself hanging like this!